Charles Bukowski

(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994 / Andernach)

Charles Bukowski Poems

121. 2 Flies 3/31/2010
122. Eat Your Heart Out 1/13/2003
123. Raw With Love 1/1/2004
124. Death Wants More Death 1/13/2003
125. For Jane 1/13/2003
126. Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame 1/1/2004
127. Finish 1/13/2003
128. 40,000 1/13/2003
129. Cows In Art Class 1/13/2003
130. Close To Greatness 1/3/2003
131. To The Whore Who Took My Poems 1/13/2003
132. Big Night On The Town 1/13/2003
133. A Following 1/13/2003
134. The Genius Of The Crowd 1/13/2003
135. Consummation Of Grief 1/13/2003
136. Carson Mccullers 1/3/2003
137. Back To The Machine Gun 1/3/2003
138. Let It Enfold You 1/1/2004
139. As The Poems Go 1/13/2003
140. A Challenge To The Dark 1/13/2003
141. A Radio With Guts 1/13/2003
142. As The Sparrow 1/13/2003
143. Confession 1/3/2003
144. Cause And Effect 1/13/2003
145. Are You Drinking? 1/13/2003
146. Be Kind 1/13/2003
147. An Almost Made Up Poem 1/13/2003
148. And The Moon And The Stars And The World 1/13/2003
149. Bluebird 1/13/2003
150. Alone With Everybody 1/1/2004
151. A Smile To Remember 1/3/2003

Comments about Charles Bukowski

  • 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.

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

    Hank, you were the man.

Best Poem of Charles Bukowski

A Smile To Remember

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
to be happy, told me, 'be happy Henry!'
and she was right: it's better to be happy if you
but my father continued to beat her and me several times a week while
raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't
understand what was attacking him from within.

my mother, poor fish,
wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a
week, telling me to be happy: 'Henry, ...

Read the full of A Smile To Remember

Rhyming Poem

the goldfish sing all night with guitars,
and the whores go down with the stars,
the whores go down with the stars

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