That's the point. He did fulfill his drive, urge to write in spite of the detours and road blocks. He also got much more because of it. We readers did too.
it's a hell of a life if you got the strength for it (and the weakness)
used to see him out at Hollywood Park, clubhouse level, against the wall with his Racing Form and program. thank god i knew enough to leave him the fuck alone
I love Bukowski; he lived his life, deeply and deeply. He had understood the game of life. He discovered his poetry gift in his second half of life and lived like never before. What I admired about him is that he wrote from his heart and soul. His earlier life of pain and suffering shaped him. And today, he is a celebrated poet. And I have got my 5 minutes.
I am writer like him; I write for the underserved communities in Africa. Maybe you can pass by so I can't starve
A writer’s dilemma squeezing time through the cracks of light in the day, doing jobs to get by, but having a smoke with the reaper and drinking the last of wine squeezed a creative moment for clarity.
To do something well, truly well, costs nothing less than our all.
" I got my
5 god-damned minutes
and much
more."
That's the point. He did fulfill his drive, urge to write in spite of the detours and road blocks. He also got much more because of it. We readers did too.
Clarity, like death, is a bitch. But a comfort too, when brought into focus.
it's a hell of a life if you got the strength for it (and the weakness)
used to see him out at Hollywood Park, clubhouse level, against the wall with his Racing Form and program. thank god i knew enough to leave him the fuck alone
Fucking hilarious
Fucking drop dead steel irony
Fucking precious
Got to be writing it down
no matter what
that’s the ancient rhyme
the Muse sung
over and over and over
since the beginning of written time
She sings because she must
She sings because that is
her reason for being.
She needs no instruction manual
no writer’s workshop
to know how to sing
A jealous mistress
like no other
Another thing
Death cannot defeat
Her songs echo in Eternity
blazing across Infinity
Got a The Seventh Seal-like storyline:
a knight suddenly comes face-to-face
with the hooded figure of Death,
and challenges him to a game of chess.
I love Bukowski; he lived his life, deeply and deeply. He had understood the game of life. He discovered his poetry gift in his second half of life and lived like never before. What I admired about him is that he wrote from his heart and soul. His earlier life of pain and suffering shaped him. And today, he is a celebrated poet. And I have got my 5 minutes.
I am writer like him; I write for the underserved communities in Africa. Maybe you can pass by so I can't starve
If you're new to Bukowski, start here: Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame, Selected Poems 1959-1973
A writer’s dilemma squeezing time through the cracks of light in the day, doing jobs to get by, but having a smoke with the reaper and drinking the last of wine squeezed a creative moment for clarity.
Death is lighting my cigars
One of my favorite writers and poets
Fuckin' A, man.
Needed to read this right now. Thank you so much.
Anyone out there who is willing to die, really die, for their freedom?
getting it down in a time warp no matter what.
Yeah….