Charles Bukowski

(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994 / Andernach)

Charles Bukowski Poems

121. For Jane: With All The Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough: 1/1/2004
122. 2 Flies 3/31/2010
123. Death Wants More Death 1/13/2003
124. Girl In A Miniskirt Reading The Bible Outside My Window 1/13/2003
125. Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame 1/1/2004
126. 40,000 1/13/2003
127. For Jane 1/13/2003
128. To The Whore Who Took My Poems 1/13/2003
129. Close To Greatness 1/3/2003
130. Raw With Love 1/1/2004
131. Carson Mccullers 1/3/2003
132. Cows In Art Class 1/13/2003
133. A Following 1/13/2003
134. Big Night On The Town 1/13/2003
135. Let It Enfold You 1/1/2004
136. Consummation Of Grief 1/13/2003
137. The Genius Of The Crowd 1/13/2003
138. A Radio With Guts 1/13/2003
139. A Challenge To The Dark 1/13/2003
140. As The Poems Go 1/13/2003
141. Back To The Machine Gun 1/3/2003
142. Confession 1/3/2003
143. Cause And Effect 1/13/2003
144. As The Sparrow 1/13/2003
145. Are You Drinking? 1/13/2003
146. Be Kind 1/13/2003
147. And The Moon And The Stars And The World 1/13/2003
148. An Almost Made Up Poem 1/13/2003
149. Bluebird 1/13/2003
150. A Smile To Remember 1/3/2003
151. Alone With Everybody 1/1/2004

Comments about Charles Bukowski

  • Bera Tremoz (11/6/2005 12:14:00 PM)

    I raise a toast in your name
    everytime i drink
    my dear Chinaski
    and i curse at you
    silently and privately
    cos i cant wait to get drunk
    with you
    in the afterlife.


    8 person liked.
    6 person did not like.
  • W J (7/26/2005 6:54:00 PM)

    This guy is absolutely amazing. Writing this great while drinking that much? all I can say is 'Wow.'

  • Praxku Segapoto (3/8/2005 1:49:00 AM)

    I need to know where I can find the poem titled 'gamblers all', in what book. I hope somebody can help me. Thanks!

  • Doren Robbins Doren Robbins (2/18/2005 1:56:00 AM)

    To survive without adding to the horror is sometimes the best we can do. The courage and cunning it takes to live this way makes what little art or decency we have possible. Until the sometimes wistful and poignant poems Bukowski wrote in old age, his central theme, both comically and tragically, involved the battering struggle of the individual writer, worker, lover in a violently exploitative and humanly deranged world. Readers feel permeated by the best of his poems because of the simplicity with which he expresses passion, and paradoxically conveys the butchery done to it, and the butchery endured, by people.

  • Jackson Kilroy (1/28/2005 8:16:00 AM)

    Hank, you were the man.

Best Poem of Charles Bukowski

Alone With Everybody

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
and nobody finds the
but keep
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards...

Read the full of Alone With Everybody

These Things

these things that we support most well
have nothing to do with up,
and we do with them
out of boredom or fear or money
or cracked intelligence;
our circle and our candle of light
being small,
so small we cannot bear it,
we heave out with Idea

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