Car poems
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Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame
© Charles Bukowski
some dogs who sleep ay night
must dream of bones
and I remember your bones
in flesh
Sleep
© Charles Bukowski
she was a short one
getting fat and she had once been
beautiful and
she drank the wine
Revolt In The Ranks
© Charles Bukowski
I have just spent one-hour-and-a-half
handicapping tomorrow's
card.
when am I going to get at the poems?
We Ain't Got No Money, Honey, But We Got Rain
© Charles Bukowski
call it the greenhouse effect or whatever
but it just doesn't rain like it used to.
I particularly remember the rains of the
depression era.
40,000
© Charles Bukowski
at the track today,
Father's Day,
each paid admission was
entitled to a wallet
Poem For My 43rd Birthday
© Charles Bukowski
To end up alone
in a tomb of a room
without cigarettes
or wine--
For Jane
© Charles Bukowski
when you left
you took almost
everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers
that will not let me be.
What Can We Do?
© Charles Bukowski
at their best, there is gentleness in Humanity.
some understanding and, at times, acts of
courage
but all in all it is a mass, a glob that doesn't
A Radio With Guts
© Charles Bukowski
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,
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,
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
The Most Beautiful Woman In Town
© Charles Bukowski
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
To The Whore Who Took My Poems
© Charles Bukowski
some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
Tz'u No. 11
© Li Ching Chao
It was far into the night when, intoxicated,
I took off my ornaments;
The plum flower withered in my hair.
Tz'u No. 10 (Exile)
© Li Ching Chao
Soft breezes, mild sunshine,
spring is still young.
The sudden change of the light
brightened my spirit.
Tz'u No. 1
© Li Ching Chao
To the tune "Courtyard Filled with Fragrance"Fragrant grass beside the pond
green shade over the hall
a clear cold comes through
the window curtains
