Members Who Read Most Number Of Poems

Live Scores

Click here to see the rest of the list

(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994 / Andernach)

Listen to this poem:
What do you think this poem is about?

For Example: love, art, fashion, friendship and etc.

Are You Drinking?

washed-up, on shore, the old yellow notebook
out again
I write from the bed
as I did last
year.
will see the doctor,
Monday.
"yes, doctor, weak legs, vertigo, head-
aches and my back
hurts."
"are you drinking?" he will ask.
"are you getting your
exercise, your
vitamins?"
I think that I am just ill
with life, the same stale yet
fluctuating
factors.
even at the track
I watch the horses run by
and it seems
meaningless.
I leave early after buying tickets on the
remaining races.
"taking off?" asks the motel
clerk.
"yes, it's boring,"
I tell him.
"If you think it's boring
out there," he tells me, "you oughta be
back here."
so here I am
propped up against my pillows
again
just an old guy
just an old writer
with a yellow
notebook.
something is
walking across the
floor
toward
me.
oh, it's just
my cat
this
time.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003


Read poems about / on: cat, horse, running

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (As The Sparrow by Charles Bukowski )

Enter the verification code :

  • * Sunprincess * (3/15/2014 7:14:00 AM)

    something is
    walking across the
    floor
    toward
    me.
    oh, it's just
    my cat
    this
    time.
    .................love the ending it gave me a laugh...
    I didn't expect that....excellent write
    .......and an awesome poem! ! !

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Fiona Schwartzinoff (12/21/2013 10:17:00 PM)

    Not his best... Rather dull and border-line shallow. I prefer other works of his.

  • Smoky Hoss (12/10/2013 12:27:00 PM)

    Bukowski knew and expressed the heavy part of life as well as anyone could. This poem is a picture, some will see its meaning, and some will not. Either way it goes to a deeper place, and speaks honestly.

  • Reyvrex Questor Reyes (10/7/2012 4:00:00 AM)

    Yes I am drinking: Check this out:

    Drunken Sonnet

    When in my lowest stock of wine and praise
    I just content myself with this cheap beer
    And wish in some hotel I with my raise
    In yuletide, enjoying a good cheer;
    But most I get from work that I contend,
    Is reprimand from bossy chief and staff,
    And scorn from lady love whom I pretend,
    To have, when all I get from her is chaff;
    And thinking of this love, this love of fools,
    That no angel finds worthy of a cent,
    Spit out, might I, in any of my drools,
    And wonder how my glossy life have went;
    .... Seeing your face, and hearing your tirade,
    .... I might with bandits give my life to trade.

  • Kasia Fedyk (5/17/2012 6:39:00 PM)

    Wow, he is just incredible, such simplicity comes through him when he expresses his emotion, simplicity and play with the words, his whole state of being, yet the heaviness he carries with him you can feel to the bone. He is brilliant. I love his work. Rest in peace Charles Burkowski. Thank you for sharing your amazing talent and your life.. [3

  • Stan Petrovich (7/7/2011 2:25:00 PM)

    Sure he was. Later him life he boasted about switching to 'natural' wine, as opposed to the skid-row stuff, like Midnight Train, et al that he was used to, and died in Tucson (I think) of cirrhossis anyway.

  • Cailin O'Malley (5/23/2010 8:17:00 PM)

    Love it and know these feelings far too well... I guess they're what I live for, though.

  • David Woods (3/16/2009 4:08:00 PM)

    A laconic poem, I feel like i've been there, felt that same world weariness. I wonder who/what he saw the last time someone walked across the floor

  • Mario Koun (6/11/2008 6:48:00 PM)

    We'll have enough time to rest when we die.

  • Just Jes (4/30/2008 7:01:00 PM)

    the beauty of Bukowski is that he is a master of crafting words that Everyman can relate to. That heavy side of life that you'd find talking to any person suffering through life is so present in this poem. You don't have to have watched a person suffer through the ravages of Cancer to comprehend this. Fighting is tiresome, even if the demons are self inflicted. This is just great writing. Its not covered in perfume, or redundant cerebral metaphors. it simply is what it is!

Read all 18 comments »

People who read Charles Bukowski also read

Top 500 Poems

[Hata Bildir]