I just spent an hour and a half in the afternoon with a beloved aunt. We met at a local pub. I ordered a cup of chamomile tea. She had a Manhattan in front of her when I arrived. Before I'd finished half my tea, she was onto her second Manhattan. Then she ordered a glass of wine - all before I'd finished my tea. I needed to leave after 90 mins. Thankfully she informed me that her partner was arriving within the next 30 minutes or I would have felt irresponsible leaving her there. When I left, I felt like it was forever. I didn't want to be there anymore and I don't want to do that again. It was deeply upsetting.
I honor Bukowski for being able to sit with these feelings and find the words to convey them so profoundly. To take his experience, as painful as it could be, and to transform it in a way that helps me to deepen my understanding and experience of what it is to be human.
My recollection from reading the Gospels is Jesus on the cross said of his killers, “Forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do.” If that did n’t petrify them, then maybe Bukowski was right, laughing would have.
My parents got up drinking vodka each morning and turned in drinking it each night, so when Bukowski seems to boast or revel in his drinking, I think he was so full of shit that his eyes were brown.
His relations with women seem to me to be a bit off the rails, too, but then, I didn’t fare so well in that arena myself. However, I was fortunate to have deep relationships with 8 very different remarkable women, one at a time, and shorter relationships with other remarkable women, and each of them someow caused something to awaken in me, which I did not know was there, and it remains with me today, and they enriched my life, even though it was perhaps a stretch for them to be with me. It’s been a stretch for me to be with me.
Bukowski had a profound knack for NAILING the oftentimes brutality of life. And sadly, this brutality only seems to get worse with the passage of time. "Be on the watch. There are ways out. The G-O-Ds will offer you chances. Know them. Take them." His salient advice applies - it's sad that he couldn't "hear it" Himself. But then again, maybe He did? #CrazyWisdom
The way the poet navigates through darkness, finding solace in laughter amidst the chaos, is both haunting and powerful. It's a reminder that sometimes laughter is the only release from the weight of existence.
Bukowski was a creator in the highest sense. It was his priority even when working the shit jobs. He didn't drink as much as he let on. He created too much to be a dysfunctional alcoholic. Bukowski just knew how to cut through the façade that so many hide behind. He once said:
“We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.”
Oh the ache of moving from brilliant creative youth to sodden and weary old man without seizing that dream someone promised us. Laugh indeed. It keeps us from crying.
Bukowski is the court jester of the deepest putrid depths, a shining light disguised as darkness and despair
This reflects a general sense of futility, unfulfilled desires, and escapism through alcohol. I can understand knowing many. 🙏
I get it.
I just spent an hour and a half in the afternoon with a beloved aunt. We met at a local pub. I ordered a cup of chamomile tea. She had a Manhattan in front of her when I arrived. Before I'd finished half my tea, she was onto her second Manhattan. Then she ordered a glass of wine - all before I'd finished my tea. I needed to leave after 90 mins. Thankfully she informed me that her partner was arriving within the next 30 minutes or I would have felt irresponsible leaving her there. When I left, I felt like it was forever. I didn't want to be there anymore and I don't want to do that again. It was deeply upsetting.
I’ve been there. Took along time to realize you cannot help them.
Or anyone for that matter. Unless someone wants to be helped - by you.
I honor Bukowski for being able to sit with these feelings and find the words to convey them so profoundly. To take his experience, as painful as it could be, and to transform it in a way that helps me to deepen my understanding and experience of what it is to be human.
My recollection from reading the Gospels is Jesus on the cross said of his killers, “Forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do.” If that did n’t petrify them, then maybe Bukowski was right, laughing would have.
My parents got up drinking vodka each morning and turned in drinking it each night, so when Bukowski seems to boast or revel in his drinking, I think he was so full of shit that his eyes were brown.
His relations with women seem to me to be a bit off the rails, too, but then, I didn’t fare so well in that arena myself. However, I was fortunate to have deep relationships with 8 very different remarkable women, one at a time, and shorter relationships with other remarkable women, and each of them someow caused something to awaken in me, which I did not know was there, and it remains with me today, and they enriched my life, even though it was perhaps a stretch for them to be with me. It’s been a stretch for me to be with me.
Bukowski had a profound knack for NAILING the oftentimes brutality of life. And sadly, this brutality only seems to get worse with the passage of time. "Be on the watch. There are ways out. The G-O-Ds will offer you chances. Know them. Take them." His salient advice applies - it's sad that he couldn't "hear it" Himself. But then again, maybe He did? #CrazyWisdom
the useless wars
the useless years
the useless loves
Is all a dream??
His voice is so clear. His sight, so clear.
The way the poet navigates through darkness, finding solace in laughter amidst the chaos, is both haunting and powerful. It's a reminder that sometimes laughter is the only release from the weight of existence.
If we don’t have laughter tge devil wins.
To me he is in a very sad bitter place. Wanting the world to be what it is not. That is the lot of many. He reflects the state of alcoholic very well.
Bukowski was a creator in the highest sense. It was his priority even when working the shit jobs. He didn't drink as much as he let on. He created too much to be a dysfunctional alcoholic. Bukowski just knew how to cut through the façade that so many hide behind. He once said:
“We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.”
brilliant as usual - read all of Bukowski and never tire of these works
Yes. Mom asked after a dry out period why I would go back. Ask Rudolf your father He knows
Wow. Sad.
awesome poem - "laughing is singing to us"
So good. I've long admired Bukowski, but you've single-handedly elevated my love and respect for his work. Thank you Erik! 🙏🙏🙏☺️
Oh the ache of moving from brilliant creative youth to sodden and weary old man without seizing that dream someone promised us. Laugh indeed. It keeps us from crying.
Now there are more killers than ever and I write poems for them
They say that the clown laughs with one eye and cries with the other
Is the poet any better?…
The poet cries with one eye and laughs with the other
Right! He’s definitely better 😂😭