All Poems

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© Charles Bukowski

I took my girlfriend to your last poetry reading,
she said.
yes, yes? I asked.
she's young and pretty, she said.

The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth

© Charles Bukowski

if I suffer at this
typewriter
think how I'd feel
among the lettuce-

Shoes

© Charles Bukowski

when you're young
a pair of
female
high-heeled shoes

Are You Drinking?

© Charles Bukowski

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

Eat Your Heart Out

© Charles Bukowski

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

The Night I Was Going To Die

© Charles Bukowski

the night I was going to die
I was sweating on the bed
and I could hear the crickets
and there was a cat fight outside

The History Of One Tough Motherfucker

© Charles Bukowski

he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed

How Is Your Heart?

© Charles Bukowski

during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with

George was lying in his trailer, flat on his back, watching a small portable T.V. His
dinner dishes were undone, his breakfast dishes were undone, he needed a shave, and ash
from his rolled cigarettes dropped onto his undershirt. Some of the ash was still burning.
Sometimes the burning ash missed the undershirt and hit his skin, then he cursed, brushing

Young In New Orleans

© Charles Bukowski

starving there, sitting around the bars,
and at night walking the streets for hours,
the moonlight always seemed fake
to me, mabye it was,

The Shower

© Charles Bukowski

we like to shower afterwards
(I like the water hotter than she)
and her face is always soft and peaceful
and she'll watch me first

A Challenge To The Dark

© Charles Bukowski

shot in the eye
shot in the brain
shot in the ass
shot like a flower in the dance

Here I Am ...

© Charles Bukowski

drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end of my 2nd bottle
of wine, I have typed from a dozen to 15 pages of
poesy
an old man

A Following

© Charles Bukowski

the phone rang at 1:30 a.m.
and it was a man from Denver:

"Chinaski, you got a following in

For Jane: With All The Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough

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

The Most Beautiful Woman In Town

Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl
in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes
to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that
would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her

The Genius Of The Crowd

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

An Almost Made Up Poem

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

Somebody

and I said

forget that

I'm In Love

she's young, she said,
but look at me,
I have pretty ankles,
and look at my wrists, I have pretty