Love poems
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Cut While Shaving
© Charles Bukowski
I walked away from the mirror.
it was morning, it was afternoon, it was
night
The Retreat
© Charles Bukowski
this time has finished me.
I feel like the German troops
whipped by snow and the communists
walking bent
Layover
© Charles Bukowski
Making love in the sun, in the morning sun
in a hotel room
above the alley
where poor men poke for bottles;
Sway With Me
© Charles Bukowski
sway with me, everything sad --
madmen in stone houses
without doors,
lepers steaming love and song
Something For The Touts, The Nuns, The Grocery Clerks, And You . . .
© Charles Bukowski
some do it naturally
some obscenely
everywhere.
Prayer In Bad Weather
© Charles Bukowski
by God, I don't know what to
do.
they're so nice to have around.
they have a way of playing with
Whats The Use Of A Title?
© Charles Bukowski
they do'nt make it
the beautiful can't endure,
they are butterflies
they are doves
they are sparrows,
they dont make it.
The Most
© Charles Bukowski
here comes the fishhead singing
here comes the baked potato in drag
here comes nothing to do all day long
here comes another night of no sleep
Pull A String, A Puppet Moves
© Charles Bukowski
each man must realize
that it can all disappear very
quickly:
the cat, the woman, the job,
His Wife, The Painter
© Charles Bukowski
There are sketches on the walls of men and women and ducks,
and outside a large green bus swerves through traffic like
insanity sprung from a waving line; Turgenev, Turgenev,
says the radio, and Jane Austin, Jane Austin, too.
The Poetry Reading
© Charles Bukowski
at high noon
at a small college near the beach
sober
the sweat running down my arms
Big Night On The Town
© Charles Bukowski
you leave Madame Death there,
you leave the sneering bartender
there.
Out Of The Arm Of One Love...
© Charles Bukowski
out of the arm of one love
and into the arms of another
I have been saved from dying on the cross
by a lady who smokes pot
Raw With Love
© Charles Bukowski
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
As The Sparrow
© Charles Bukowski
To give life you must take life,
and as our grief falls flat and hollow
upon the billion-blooded sea
I pass upon serious inward-breaking shoals rimmed
