Confessioni di un codardo

I liken reading a good Bukowski poem to getting hit in the mouth by your best friend. It hurts. You feel raw about it for a while. But then you feel pretty good. Because it's done. Things are out in the open. And you survived.

i used to drink alot and smoke crack. once was hanging out with some young girl in west philly and she saw this book in my backpack. nef was her name i think. near 51st and master. i told her it wasn't a book of love poems. she wanted it anyway. i gave it to her and often think of crackheads in west Leggi tutto

...pozerám si svoje staré fotky a pýtam sa to isté.

Wow. I am writing this about 30 seconds after finishing the last poem on the last page of 'Betting On The Muse'. I had no idea that a book published after his death, composed of random unpublished poetry and short stories could be so powerful. This book is truly moving, it grasped me from the very s Leggi tutto

Fantastic as always. Some of my favourite lines: with agony stuffed in mypocketsand the sunbehind a film ofpain. they and we are in thetrenchesof hell,throwing mud at thefates. I knew exactly what Iwas doing: I wasdoing nothing.because I knew therewas nothingto do.

"this place, this time, nowI vow to the sunthat I will laugh the good laugh once againin the perfect place of meforever." Bukowski's poetry never gets old. He continues to be my favorite poet.

This Bukowski is a mix of short (very short) stories and poems--reading them I would assume a mix of older material and material from shortly from before Hank passed away. The poems he writes on his Mac are so quaint--as if he is talking to the machine as well as using it--reveling in it's "trash ca Leggi tutto

a fellow worker at the library read it. So I started to read it and got addicted to Bukowski's poems. Some are funny, some suck, and you could not make up the race track, drinks, women and crazy men who fight with Buk. I think his style is his style. Not Williams or Ginsberg but definitely Charles Bukow Leggi tutto

I love Bukowski, because sometimes, though rarely, when you're up to your eyeballs in misery, hopelessness, and the horse shit of life, he'll reveal suddenly a glimmer, a short line of poetry of something he finds beautiful in the world. However, this collection had a few that turned my stomach and

This collection is a little different for Bukowski. A little less angry, more at peace with his old age. Still better than most anyone, but not my very favorite Buk.