Charles Bukowski

(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994 / Andernach)

An Almost Made Up Poem - Poem by Charles Bukowski

I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny
blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny
they are small, and the fountain is in France
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Comments about An Almost Made Up Poem by Charles Bukowski

  • Mohammad Maleki Mohammad Maleki (8/25/2016 1:34:00 AM)

    love you like a man loves a woman he never touches only wites to or keeps little photographs of.
    moving line of this inspirational poem. it showes essence of true love which is totally beyond ordinary sorts.
    far from any lust and physical charms and apart from transitory and temporary loves. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • Patricia Grantham Patricia Grantham (8/16/2016 1:07:00 PM)

    A poem that is full of hidden truths and innuendos. Strictly Bukowski. Compelling. (Report) Reply

  • Thomas Case Thomas Case (11/23/2015 12:14:00 PM)

    beautiful...through Buk's tough exterior, his romantic heart shines through. (Report) Reply

  • Souren Mondal Souren Mondal (9/23/2015 5:52:00 AM)

    An extraordinary poem.. I couldn't even guess at all that it would end like that.. Bewildered, shocked, and still somehow, I am mildly amused.. (Report) Reply

  • Nel Omofolarin Nel Omofolarin (7/29/2015 8:41:00 AM)

    Honestly, there is brilliance in this man's mind....I read just one of his works and I haven't been able to conqure the almost irresistible urge to read more of Bukowski's work...Genius! And this poem is another wonderful piece from a great mind (Report) Reply

  • Raymond Farrell (4/27/2015 7:04:00 AM)

    This is what I like about Bukowski, no BS just the real deal. (Report) Reply

  • Emaan Mir (1/8/2015 10:43:00 AM)

    Stoopid (Report) Reply

  • Frank Avon (9/15/2014 10:35:00 PM)

    This is depressing, not the Bukowski I'm accustomed to - and so well written. I wonder which of his (many) books it's from. It confirms my hope to read more of his work, but I hope some of it is more cheerful. He was a man of many, many words. (Report) Reply

  • * Sunprincess * (6/17/2014 10:41:00 PM)

    ..........this poem is keeping it true and so honest....would have loved, if he could have had a chance to meet her.... (Report) Reply

  • Mazhari David (5/21/2014 4:03:00 AM)

    The famous are worried about their fame... and the not famous are worried about their fame too... silly world made of pride and vanity* * (Report) Reply

  • Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (5/12/2014 4:42:00 AM)

    A very good poem but where the numbers in the video recording actually missing in poem. (Report) Reply

  • Brian Jani Brian Jani (5/5/2014 3:51:00 AM)

    Nice one Charles I absolutely like it (Report) Reply

  • Rouren Torres (1/3/2014 9:56:00 PM)

    He makes it so it doesn't feel like a true tragedy. (Report) Reply

  • Billy Markham (6/23/2010 2:46:00 PM)

    @ Lee Crowell

    oh man, i hope you are not serious at all. (Report) Reply

  • Byron Crosby (3/1/2010 10:43:00 PM)

    So powerful, so incredibly powerful. It's the kind of raw beauty that is pure Bukowski. Brilliant darkness. (Report) Reply

  • Joey Valenzuela (9/1/2009 11:46:00 PM)

    yea, nice poem, , , coz i always appreciate poems...
    well hell yah, , for you who said tis not likely a poem...hammp, , shut up ye not a an idiot...a fool... (Report) Reply

  • Caliban Jigsaw (6/3/2009 1:16:00 PM)

    The form is as obscure as beat can be - but it is not the package that makes it art, it is the content.

    I like it. It is not the be all or end all of anything. It rings of truth. Truth as voiced from a selfish man, from a cynic's perch where touch is but a wish.

    I do enjoy his voice. I am certain I would despise the man. (Report) Reply

  • Lee Crowell (5/2/2009 7:51:00 PM)

    in my humble opinion there's only one person who ever wrote a poem, his name is Bukowski
    all the rest, and I mean all, are wannabes (Report) Reply

  • Alex Webb (1/7/2009 6:17:00 PM)

    I didn't realize trolls roamed these parts. 'To the hills! ' I say, 'to the hills. We must finally escape from this misbegotten bunch. Don't stop for lunch, we must be off, and on out way, if we do not want out feet trampled on.'

    Like the poem. Loved the comments. (Report) Reply

  • Jesse Weaver (11/6/2008 6:40:00 PM)

    While you insult each other I guess I'll read this nice poem again. (Report) Reply

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