Charles Bukowski Poems

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
...

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
...

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
where you wrote me that last letter and
...

Long walks at night--
that's what good for the soul:
peeking into windows
watching tired housewives
...

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
...

we are always asked
to understand the other person's
viewpoint
no matter how
...

shot in the eye
shot in the brain
shot in the ****
shot like a flower in the dance
...

Either peace or happiness,
let it enfold you
...

washed-up, on shore, the old yellow notebook
out again
I write from the bed
as I did last
...

it was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street
I used to get drunk
and throw the radio through the window
while it was playing, and, of course,
...