what is everyone's favorite Bukowski poem? and thoughts on his other work.
I have read Post Office, Hollywood, and Women. doing a report on "young in new orleans" for english right now
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what is everyone's favorite Bukowski poem? and thoughts on his other work.
I have read Post Office, Hollywood, and Women. doing a report on "young in new orleans" for english right now
I apologize that I never responded to this thread earlier, being a fan of most of Bukowski's work. I recently saw an independent film made after him, mostly biography, called Bukowski: Born Into This; I would recommend it, if you have access.
Some of my favorite poems:
The Blackbirds Are Rough Today
lonely as a dry and used orchard
spread over the earth
for use and surrender.
shot down like an ex-pug selling
dailies on the corner.
taken by tears like
an aging chorus girl
who has gotten her last check.
a hanky is in order your lord your
worship.
the blackbirds are rough today
like
ingrown toenails
in an overnight
jail---
wine wine whine,
the blackbirds run around and
fly around
harping about
Spanish melodies and bones.
and everywhere is
nowhere---
the dream is as bad as
flapjacks and flat tires:
why do we go on
with our minds and
pockets full of
dust
like a bad boy just out of
school---
you tell
me,
you who were a hero in some
revolution
you who teach children
you who drink with calmness
you who own large homes
and walk in gardens
you who have killed a man and own a
beautiful wife
you tell me
why I am on fire like old dry
garbage.
we might surely have some interesting
correspondence.
it will keep the mailman busy.
and the butterflies and ants and bridges and
cemeteries
the rocket-makers and dogs and garage mechanics
will still go on a
while
until we run out of stamps
and/or
ideas.
don't be ashamed of
anything; I guess God meant it all
like
locks on
doors.
---
Young In New Orleans
starving there, sitting around the bars,
and at night walking the streets for
hours,
the moonlight always seemed fake
to me, maybe it was,
and in the French Quarter I watched
the horses and buggies going by,
everybody sitting high in the open
carriages, the black driver, and in
back the man and the woman,
usually young and always white.
and I was always white.
and hardly charmed by the
world.
New Orleans was a place to
hide.
I could piss away my life,
unmolested.
except for the rats.
the rats in my dark small room
very much resented sharing it
with me.
they were large and fearless
and stared at me with eyes
that spoke
an unblinking
death.
women were beyond me.
they saw something
depraved.
there was one waitress
a little older than
I, she rather smiled,
lingered when she
brought my
coffee.
that was plenty for
me, that was
enough.
there was something about
that city, though
it didn't let me feel guilty
that I had no feeling for the
things so many others
needed.
it let me alone.
sitting up in my bed
the llights out,
hearing the outside
sounds,
lifting my cheap
bottle of wine,
letting the warmth of
the grape
enter
me
as I heard the rats
moving about the
room,
I preferred them
to
humans.
being lost,
being crazy maybe
is not so bad
if you can be
that way
undisturbed.
New Orleans gave me
that.
nobody ever called
my name.
no telephone,
no car,
no job,
no
anything.
me and the
rats
and my youth,
one time,
that time
I knew
even through the
nothingness,
it was a
celebration
of something not to
do
but only
know.
---
man in the sun
she reads to me from the New Yorker
which I don't buy, don't know
how they get in here, but it's
something about the Mafia
one of the heads of the Mafia
who ate too much and had it too easy
too many fine women patting his
walnuts, and he got fat sucking at good
cigars and young breasts and he
has these heart attacks - and so
one day somebody is driving him
in his big car along the road
and he doesn't feel so good
and he asks the boy to stop and let
him out and the boy lays him out
along the road in the fine sunshine
and before he dies he says:
how beautiful life can be, and
then he's gone.
sometimes you've got to kill 4 or 5
thousand men before you somehow
get to believe that the sparrow
is immortal, money is piss and
that you have been wasting
your time.
this one is amazing, I love his work but I haven't found a book by him in bookstores here in Iceland...
"question and answer"
he sat naked and drunk in a room of summer
night, running the blade of the knife
under his fingernails, smiling, thinking
of all the letters he had received
telling him that
the way he lived and wrote about
that--
it had kept them going when
all seemed
truly
hopeless.
putting the blade on the table, he
flicked it with a finger
and it whirled
in a flashing circle
under the light.
who the hell is going to save
me? he
thought.
as the knife stopped spinning
the answer came:
you're going to have to
save yourself.
still smiling,
a: he lit a
cigarette
b: he poured
another
drink
c: gave the blade
another
spin.
from http://todayinliterature.com/
Bukowski and the Barfly Life
On this day in 1994 Charles Bukowski died. He published over fifty books of poetry and prose in a career spanning a half-century, becoming the Grand Old Man of the fringe presses. He came by his skid-row, blue-collar themes honestly, enduring decades of bosses ...
"...with bad breath and big feet, men
who look like frogs, hyenas, men who walk
as if melody had never been invented....
and the inevitable landlady,
execrating and final,
sending me to hell,
waving her fat, sweaty arms
and screaming
screaming for rent
because the world had failed us
both"
http://todayinliterature.com/assets/...-200x300-2.jpg
Bukowski's gravestone bears the inscription, "Don't Try."
Haven't read any of his work but love the poem you posted.
Second that. Not a Bukowsi fan but after reading that part (?) of the poem you posted, I might be getting interested.
R.I.P. Charles Bukowski. For those who have not read his amazing, yet often shocking, work: http://www.online-literature.com/for...ead.php?t=3815
I always preferred his novels and short stories to his poetry, which (to me) just seemed like his prose cut into the shape of poems. His childhood memoir Ham on Rye is my favorite--an unflinching depiction of a child's dawning realization of the nature of the world around him. He owed a lot to Hemingway in terms of style--tough, terse dialogue with the underlying emotion remaining unstated.
I think he owed more to Henry Miller, and the nihilism of Celine.
im reading "post office" and yeah i can see a lot of henry miller in the prose. its a great novel by the way and such an easy and interesting read. apparently he was classed along with the beat generation but i think he was far better than kerouac and co who were always overrated in my mind. yeah so if youre into writers making fun of bosses from the perspective of the downtrodden everyday worker...no scrub that, if youre interested in a good read then give charles bukowski a go!
:banana:
i meant to write, he also reminds me of hunter thompson's style of writing. bukowski's great, has anyone read john fante's "ask the dust"? its apparently bukowski's favourite novel
:banana:
anyone realise that in charles bukowski's last novel "pulp" the character of nicky belane is similar to the cedric the entertainer's character in the coen brothers film "intolerable cruelty"? cedric's character busts into rooms yelling "IM GONNA NAIL YO' ***!" while brandishing a camcorder to film the adulterous liasons of a married person and someone else, just like nicky belane does in "pulp". those unoriginal thinkers, the coens....
:banana:
Post Office was the first piece of work I'd read by Charles......rest in peace...I enjoyed this genre quite a bit...albeit could make you "go postal" for sure.Quote:
Originally Posted by mister_noel_y2k
While I could only stomach about 10 minutes of the flick and blanch at the thought of ever having to watch someone named “whatever the entertainer” I wouldn’t chastise the Coen Brothers for being “unoriginal” (although their last few movies have suuuuucked), moreso as fairly well read chaps.Quote:
Originally Posted by mister_noel_y2k
Aside from the William Faulkner’ness in “Barton Fink”, they’ve had several other nods to the Faulkner (the carpet being defiled in “The Big Lebowski”, etc).
very true old chap, despite their last coupla movies sucking they have had a brilliant run of good movies like the big lebowski, the man who didn't (something) and o brother where art thou (based on homer i think) so theyre a good bunch of chaps when theyre directing their own material but when it comes to someone else writing the script like in intolerable cruelty then they tend to suck
:banana:
I enjoy the writings of Charles Bukowski because they make me laugh for all the wrong reasons. How many writers can pull that off?
I admit that a writer nicknamed Buke the Puke for his habit of throwing up regularly is a little hard on the sensibilities. For one thing he looked like a frog -- the combination of acne scarring and a perpetual watery-eyed hangover. His characters are always on the john with a bad case of the beer ****s when they discover the toilet paper rack is empty. His alcoholic girlfriend once asked Bukowski if he ever wiped his *** after she found brown stains on their bed sheets. If that happened to me, I'd feel too embarrassed to put it in a book, but Bukowski believed in telling the truth, warts and all.
My favorite Bukowski book is "Factotum" about his hobo journeys around the country when he was a young man. He took crappy jobs temporarily to eat and rent dumpy apartments and drank every day to keep from going crazy. During those years, he learned an important lesson about the Protestant work ethic:
“Frankly, I was horrified by work, at what a man had to do simply in order to eat, sleep, and keep himself clothed…It was true that I didn’t have much ambition, but there ought to be a place for people without ambition, I mean a better place than the one usually reserved. How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 6:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, ****, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?…Of all the ways you can spend your life, working a job is a low ignominious goal.”
I also liked many of Bukowski's free-verse poems. One volume of poetry was titled "Love Is A Dog From Hell." Amen, brother.
Bukowski never made much money from his writing until he was an old man. Even then, his books sold much better in Europe than the U.S. Then came the film "Barfly," which was a financial windfall for Bukowski. I liked the movie and the hilarious performance by Mickey Rourke. The critics and most other people hated it. Bukowski laughed all the way to the bank and wrote a book about the experience titled "Hollywood."
In his old age Bukowski proved the addage that living well is the best revenge. He bought a nice car and a respectable house, where he lived with a woman who took loving care of him. He learned to drink good wine instead of beer and cheap whisky. He still gambled on the horses, but kept his losses to a minimum. He gave speeches to college students eager to learn about writing. In 1994 he died at the age of 74 happier than he had ever been in his younger life.
Bukowski was a unique success story. He lived the dream that all writers have -- of being lifted out of misery by the magic of storytelling. He just had to wait until he was almost too old to enjoy it.
I haven't ever read anything by him, mainly due to the fact that Bukowski novels are insanely expensive in France but one day (soon) I shall. Both his poetry and his prose.
I have been reading Bukowski's poetry and plan on buying a few of his books when our X-Mas bonus comes in... happy days!
Aside: When I was in highschool I had a sticker on my alto-sax case that read "Barfly." A couple of kids started calling me barf-lee. Mean kids <pout>.
Great post Starrwriter, I couldn't agree more - Bukowski is a genius. Post Office is probably one of the finest books I've ever read. He's the ultimate proof that brutal honesty is what makes great literature.
As for his comment "there ought to be a place for people without ambition", there is - it's called the civil service.
I noticed you are in public relations in the Royal Navy. As a former U.S. Air Force drone, I want you to know that you have my deepest sympathies.Quote:
Originally Posted by Zippy
Love is a dog from hell, You get so alone at times that it just makes sense, and Septugenarian stew are really good. ham on rye is my fav. novel of his.
His poetry is subsidiary with a good drink.
Ok, the posts in this thread managed to interest me. I have ordered a copy of Post Office, expected to be delivered by end of this month. Let's give it a shot :nod:
here's a link to some of his works.
Why buy when Post Office and most of Bukowski's other work is available free from your local public library? When I was younger, I practically educated myself in libraries. Now there seems to be an aversion to libraries. What's the deal -- too much disposable income?Quote:
Originally Posted by subterranean
Starr, I don't live in the "west" , there's no such thing as public library with books like Post Office in display. Not everyone as luck as you...
And no, I don't have too much disposable income. As a matter of fact, I have to save my lunch money in order to be able to buy those kinds of books you can freely borrow from your sophisticated library.
http://www.websmileys.com/sm/mad/623.gif
Please excuse me, I'm not really in a very good mood now.
Sorry, I didn't know where you lived. (You might want to mention your home country in your profile.)Quote:
Originally Posted by subterranean
I found a great link to Charles Bukowski's FBI files. There's quite a lot of repitition, but a few good pieces from magazines he was writing for:
http://www.smog.net/writers/bukowski/fbi/
No problem.
Yes, good idea.
You might want to ask first in the future.
And yes, it's a good review on Bukowski you wrote there.
Cheers
http://www.websmileys.com/sm/drink/trink39.gif
Quote:
Originally Posted by starrwriter
I did it backwards. I read (almost) all of John Fante's work first--Ask The Dust, Dreams From Bunker Hill, The Road to Los Angeles, Wait Until Spring Bandini and The Brotherhood of the Grape. Then I started looking into Bukowski because he was so enthralled by Ask The Dust. I mean, Bukowski has never been out of my reading-choice league, I just never got around to him. My dinky, disorganized library has little to no Bukowski so I'm forced to purchase it, which is fine, but yet I never quite seem to get around to it...finances, forgetfulness, whatnot.
So does anybody have a quintessential starter book for Bukowski or should I just wing it?
And does anybody here read Fante??? :)
I started with "Factotum" and after I read all of Bukowski's books, I still thought it was his best.Quote:
Originally Posted by Sandrine
I read "Ask The Dust," but I didn't think it was as good as Bukowski.
It actually was there last time I had looked...she was like one of the rare ones who had their true location there...I don't know when it changed and I am not implying that you should have known...Quote:
Originally Posted by starrwriter
No libraries there Subby??? Or no libraries that keep such books? I actually wonder if my local library has something like that...who knows, maybe it evoluted since the times I used to go there...I should go back there now that I dont have 'school' books to read anymore...
I think I read some Bukowski one, ages ago...I only vaguely remember alcohol and toilets, but if it's the book I'm thinking of and I remember who lent it to me, I must have been 13 or 14 years old...uhm...blurred memories... Who knows, maybe I'm not even talking of the right one. *sighs* I miss being a readaholic rather than an internetholic... :rolleyes:
Quote:
Originally Posted by Koa
Many libraries here Koa, but most of them have same collections that you'd feel you're in the same place eventhough you have moved to the other . My college has good library, but the collection is only for registered students. As I'm working, I can only visit it on Saturday, but in Saturday it only opens until 12 PM. So there..
I could go to the national libary, but I'm to lazy to take the one hour travel by train. Well, maybe I'm just being spoiled. I mean they say no pain no gain...
Just had a look for fun in the online catalogue of my Uni library, which gives me no matches for Bukowski...
They have a few of his novels but none of his poetry at my Uni library.
to add bukowski also is insanely wicked hence influence of the schnapsQuote:
Originally Posted by Mark F.
i had very mixed emotions reading some of his text
at times i was not sure if i felt sick or amused by his vivid bluntness
try this linkQuote:
Originally Posted by Koa
http://www.charlesbukowski.com
Has anyone seen Factotum yet? I saw it had mixed reviews from Cannes but hope it doesn't turn out to be a disappointment.
I have yet to see Factotum, though I would love to see it sometime soon. I, too, have heard some mixed criticisms - some praising, some detesting, but thus seems the work of Bukowski - either loved or hated with no medium. :DQuote:
Originally Posted by MirrorImage
For anyone who does not know of Factotum, click here.
I first saw Factotum before getting into Bukowski's work, and back then I really loved it. Since then I have read "Post Office", "Factotum" and "Tales of Ordinary Madness", I've also seen the excellent "Bukowski : Born into this" documentary. From what I remember Dillon's portrayal of Bukowski was spot on and very touching, the film is very close to the novel but also has some of his poetry spoken by the narrator (Matt Dillon) which really gives more depth to the character. Check out the film, you might not like it but it's really worth seeing.
The novels I read were both very enoyable, lots of off-beat humour. His prose is unique, he's one of the best writers of the last century. I'm planning on buying a collection of poems to read through this Summer.
One of my favourite Bukowski poems :
"As the spirit wanes, the form appears."
R.I.P. Hank
Bluebird
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe ?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
C. Bukowski
ya i love bukowski! ! ! i had no idea they were turning one of his books into a movie-- i looked up the release date and it shuold be AUGUST 15!!- cant wait. apperently it's soundtrack kicks butt too- kristin asbjornsen put some of mr.b's lyrics to music- shes a jazz artist from norway
The Factotum soundtrack is great. She does puts 4 Bukowski poems to music. After hearing it, I found myself deeply enchanted by her version of "Slow Day." Brilliant...
Good tribute to the man Basil. One of the great writers of the 20th-Century and perhaps the most relevant American author of the past 100 years. Notes of a Dirty Old Man changed my life. I first read it in the toilet and came out a different young man. The sharp wit, skid-row humor, and the weary and sober depictions of real life were unlike anything I'd read prior to that time. It shattered the comfortable, smug, rose-colored pedestal-tower I thought myself secure in. I've seen the world since with a more grounded outlook, and am all the better for it.
"All women are prostitutes, they just charge differently". - Charles Bukowski
I remember finding a worn, tattered paperback anthology of confessional poets with vintage, yellowed pages in Speech class earlier this year. I immediatley flipped it open, and came across the poem "The Loser" by Charles Bukowski. I am positive that that particular piece of poetry isn't held in high esteem to his legacy, but for my part, I believe that is the stepping stone that led me into digging old Charlie.