My love and appreciation for Bukowski is rivaled (equaled) only by my love for Nietzsche, Whitman, Rumi, Hafiz, and maybe a couple others. Sad that many think of Him as some sort of nihilist. Someone made a comment on a post of mine (re: Bukowski) "Sometimes misanthropy is an invitation, with deep frustration, for the opposite to manifest." I thought that appropriate.
Well, I have to succumb to the fact that this is my new treasure of Bukowski’s. I get Bukowski. Who could ever deny his extraordinary vulnerable, sensitive soul?
I love this so much… and as a hospice and palliative care professional, it confuses the hell out of me because I love it as much as I do. Torturing myself with, “should he have just put the cat down? Was the cat glad his life was saved or did he wish he was dead?” But I have to believe that the cat was glad- that if the cat wanted to die, it would have died, regardless of the effort to keep him alive. The will to live is a very real will- human or otherwise.
Coincidentally, I just read this poem a couple of nights ago. I’m working my way through The Pleasures Of The Damned, a collection of his poems from 1951-1993. Stunningly beautiful work.
Ol' Henry Chinaski has saved my ass numerous times, esp. as regards women and drinking.
Cats? Everything from a Bluepoint to a possible relation to Celine: Beat to shit, dirty--a neighborhood fighter--a regular Mickey O'Rourke type. They've all given me way more...
My love and appreciation for Bukowski is rivaled (equaled) only by my love for Nietzsche, Whitman, Rumi, Hafiz, and maybe a couple others. Sad that many think of Him as some sort of nihilist. Someone made a comment on a post of mine (re: Bukowski) "Sometimes misanthropy is an invitation, with deep frustration, for the opposite to manifest." I thought that appropriate.
No words…only a knowing.
Well, I have to succumb to the fact that this is my new treasure of Bukowski’s. I get Bukowski. Who could ever deny his extraordinary vulnerable, sensitive soul?
His edginess is a bonus.
It's funny how a cat can reveal our soul like no other... This one story gives you endless insight into the man..
I love this so much… and as a hospice and palliative care professional, it confuses the hell out of me because I love it as much as I do. Torturing myself with, “should he have just put the cat down? Was the cat glad his life was saved or did he wish he was dead?” But I have to believe that the cat was glad- that if the cat wanted to die, it would have died, regardless of the effort to keep him alive. The will to live is a very real will- human or otherwise.
Meet the cat where it’s at.
Peace Whenever Possible, Dwight Lee Wolter.
but i hear you're influenced by..........yea - bullshit, endless bullshit, yea that.
Buk was the best, a beautiful soul in a jalopy body.
Magnificent.
Often imitated, never duplicated…✌🏻
Coincidentally, I just read this poem a couple of nights ago. I’m working my way through The Pleasures Of The Damned, a collection of his poems from 1951-1993. Stunningly beautiful work.
One in a billion.
Ah Bukowski... ! The first poet I ever 'got' at 13. He got me. I got him. Maybe it's time I revisit his work! Thnx for sharing this one! ☺️
I've always loved this poem and the beautiful picture...I love cats,and Buk sure loved his kitties.Thank You for sharing this...
sanctificetur Nomen tuum 😔
This is more like flash fiction masquerading as poetry, but a pretty good one nevertheless!
Ol' Henry Chinaski has saved my ass numerous times, esp. as regards women and drinking.
Cats? Everything from a Bluepoint to a possible relation to Celine: Beat to shit, dirty--a neighborhood fighter--a regular Mickey O'Rourke type. They've all given me way more...