Charles Bukowski Poems

We are like roses that have never bothered to
bloom when we should have bloomed and
it is as if
the sun has become disgusted with
...

each man must realize
that it can all disappear very
quickly:
the cat, the woman, the job,
...

the final curtain on one of the longest running
musicals ever, some people claim to have
seen it over one hundred times.
I saw it on the tv news, that final curtain:
...

225 days under grass
and you know more than I.
they have long taken your blood,
you are a dry stick in a basket.
...

I've come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
...

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
...

not much chance,
completely cut loose from
purpose,
he was a young man
...

there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
...

I can remember starving in a
small room in a strange city
shades pulled down, listening to
classical music
...

I pick up the skirt,
I pick up the sparkling beads
in black,
this thing that moved once
...