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
museums
We are all museums of fear.
tired space age
I grow tired of 18th century moralities in a 20th century space-atomic age
nice fighting names
Don't fight your demons. Your demons are here to teach you lessons. Sit down with your demons and have a drink and a chat and learn their names and talk about the burns on their fingers and scratches on their ankles. Some of them are very nice.
waiting-around waiting problem
Death is not the problem; waiting around for it is.
war hate army
there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average human being to supply any given army on any given day 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
silly writing past
I have seen too many men wilt and go silly under a little light, and then they continue to write and get published, turning out pure crap under a name that has become a bad habit. The next poem is all that counts. You can't stand on past poems.
art writing men
To me Art (poetry) is a continuous and continuing process and that when a man fails to write good poetry he fails to live fully or well.
odds laughing
We are here to laugh at the odds.
light darkness
We must.. We must bring our own light to the darkness
running believe thinking
There may not be a hell, but those who judge may create one. I think people are over-taught. They are over-taught everything. You have to find out by what happens to you, how you will react. I'll have to use a strange term here... "good." I don't know where it comes from, but I feel that there's an ultimate strain of goodness born in each of us. I don't believe in God, but I believe in this "goodness" like a tube running through our bodies. It can be nurtured. It's always magic, when on a freeway packed with traffic, a stranger makes room for you to change lanes... it gives you hope.
writing wine men
the writing of some men is like a vast bridge that carries you over the many things that claw and tear. The Wine of Forever
play whiskey stealing
You can steal my women but don't play with my whiskey.
men faces different
Each man's hell is in a different place: mine is just up and behind my ruined face.
simple artist way
Intellectuals say simple things in difficult ways. Artists say difficult things in simple ways.