Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski
Henry Charles Bukowskiwas an American poet, novelist, and short story writer...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth16 August 1920
CityAndernach, Germany
CountryUnited States of America
writing people trying
Most people are much better at saying things in letters than in conversation, and some people can write artistic, inventive letters, but when they try a poem or story or novel they become pretentious.
coffee thinking together
but isn't there always one good thing to look back on? think of how many cups of coffee we drank together.
moving different dull-days
you are on the freeway threading through traffic now, moving both towards something and towards nothing at all as you punch the radio on and get Mozart, which is something, and you will somehow get through the slow days and the busy days and the dull days and the hateful days and the rare days, all both so delightful and so disappointing because we are all so alike and so different.
dark people car
Early evening traffic was beginning to clog the avenue with cars. The sun slanted down behind him. Harry glanced at the drivers of the cars. They seemed unhappy. The world was unhappy. People were in the dark. People were terrified and disappointed. People were caught in traps. People were defensive and frantic. They felt as if their lives were being wasted. And they were right.
people bed hours
The best thing about the bedroom was the bed. I liked to stay in bed for hours, even during the day with covers pulled up to my chin. It was good in there, nothing ever occurred in there, no people, nothing.
country thinking forget
They swallow God without thinking, they swallow country without thinking. Soon they forget how to think, they let others think for them.
baby
What's wrong with assholes, baby?
symphony bird lines
I don't know if this is true to you but for me sometimes it gets so bad that anything else say like looking at a bird on an overhead power line seems as great as a Beethoven symphony. then you forget it and you're back again.
vegetables space waiting
I wasn’t going anywhere and neither was the rest of the world. We were all just hanging around waiting to die and meanwhile doing little things to fill the space. Some of use weren’t even doing little things. We were vegetables.
sleep alcohol trying
Meanwhile the 3 a.m. drunks of the world would lay in their beds, trying in vain to sleep, and deserving that rest, if they could find it.
cities feelings guilty
there was something about that city, though it didn't let me feel guilty that I had no feeling for the things so many others needed. it let me alone.
pain rain wells
Well, the rain had stopped but the pain was still there.
horse love-is broken
Love is a horse with a broken leg trying to stand while 45,000 people watch.
people so-sad ifs
people are not good to each other. perhaps if they were our deaths would not be so sad.