Charles Bukowski Poems
- A Smile To Remember we had goldfish and they circled around ...
- Alone With Everybody the flesh covers the bone and they put...
- Bluebird there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get ...
- An Almost Made Up Poem I see you drinking at a fountain with ...
- Be Kind we are always asked to understand the other ...
- And The Moon And The Stars And...
- Are You Drinking? washed-up, on shore, the old yellow ...
Henry Charles Bukowski was an American poet, novelist and short story writer. His writing was influenced by the social, cultural and economic ambience of his home city of Los Angeles. It is marked by an emphasis on the ordinary lives of poor Americans, the act of writing, alcohol, relationships with women and the drudgery of work. Bukowski wrote thousands of poems, hundreds of short stories and six novels, eventually publishing over sixty books. In 1986 Time called Bukowski a "laureate of American lowlife". Regarding Bukowski's enduring popular appeal, Adam Kirsch of The New Yorker wrote, "the secret of Bukowski’s appeal. . . [is that] he combines the confessional poet’s ... more »
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Quotationsmore quotations »
''If you want to know who your friends are, get yourself a jail sentence.''Charles Bukowski (1920-1994), U.S. author, poet. Notes From a Dirty Old Man (1969).
''The pest, in a sense, is a very superior being to us: he knows where to find us and howusually in the bath or in sexual intercourse or asleep.''Charles Bukowski (b. 1920), U.S. author, poet. "Notes on the Pest," Tales of Ordinary Madness (1967).
''You begin saving the world by saving one man at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics.''Charles Bukowski (1920-1994), U.S. author, poet. "Too Sensitive," Tales of Ordinary Madness (1967).
''Show me a man who lives alone and has a perpetually clean kitchen, and 8 times out of 9 I'll show you a man with detestable spiritual qualities.''Charles Bukowski (b. 1920), U.S. author, poet. "Too Sensitive," Tales of Ordinary Madness (1967).
A Smile To Remember
we had goldfish and they circled around and around
in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
covering the picture window and
my mother, always smiling, wanting us all
to be happy, told me, 'be happy Henry!'
and she was right: it's better to be happy if you
but my father continued to beat her and me several times a week while
raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't
understand what was attacking him from within.
my mother, poor fish,
wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a
week, telling me to be happy: 'Henry, ...