too much too little
too fat
too thin
or nobody.
laughter or
tears
haters
lovers
strangers with faces like
the backs of
thumb tacks
armies running through
streets of blood
waving winebottles
bayoneting and fucking
virgins.
an old guy in a cheap room
with a photograph of M. Monroe.
there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock
people so tired
mutilated
either by love or no love.
people just are not good to each other
one on one.
the rich are not good to the rich
the poor are not good to the poor.
we are afraid.
our educational system tells us
that we can all be
big-ass winners
it hasn't told us
about the gutters
or the suicides.
or the terror of one person
aching in one place
alone
untouched
unspoken to
watering a plant.
people are not good to each other.
people are not good to each other.
people are not good to each other.
I suppose they never will be.
I don't ask them to be.
but sometimes I think about
it.
the beads will swing
the clouds will cloud
and the killer will behead the child
like taking a bite out of an ice cream cone.
too much
too little
too fat
too thin
or nobody
more haters than lovers.
people are not good to each other.
perhaps if they were
our deaths would not be so sad.
meanwhile I look at young girls
stems
flowers of chance.
there must be a way.
surely there must be a way that we have not yet
though of.
who put this brain inside of me?
it cries
it demands
it says that there is a chance.
it will not say
"no."
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Though this poem is old, it's still very much up to date with how the society is. Their still is a lot more hate, then love.
Just like before, some people are still not good to each other.
I believe that this will go on throughout all generations, and never cease to stop because we are born with freewill, and mankind must make a choice. Sometimes those choices aren't always the best.
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This is the penned brilliance that jumped out at me;
"the rich are not good to the rich
the poor are not good to the poor."
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From guest aesthete (contact)
This poem, like most of his work, destroys me. It's simple but true. and what better way is there to present a true thing? He understands it... what more can you say? -
I have no idea why this is in the erotica category.
... i think it must be the "bayoneting and fucking
virgins" part. You were warned! -
I have no idea why this is in the erotica category.
there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock
that is the section that got to me. The part about loneliness. I know loneliness. I wish I didn't, but I do.
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very nice... in a good poem way...
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The Crunch
From guest Akua (contact)
It is well stated that the crunch has been experienced by us all... -
From guest keith byrne (contact)
savage.. I had never thougth of the hands of a clock moving with such drudgery..also the watering a plant line... You can see the person so clearly with the watering can held over the pot.. whistling happily to be fullfilling another task but always at the back of their mind the worrying thought... "what am i doing with my life and how come i ended up so alone"? -
Eloquent Melencholy
I like the simplicity of the lines. Clear concise images that evoke the most. "We are afraid" is extremely thought provoking for me. Lonely, yes, pleading yes, but optimistic under all the filth of reality. I like this especially from Buk, subtle relentless protest really if you look at the last few lines. Gosh. He doesn't have any bounds does he? -
Just brilliant, Bukowski at his best.
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there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock.....my favorite lines.
Loved this piece and I could almost hear him reciting this as I read. Wonder if I can get this on tape?
jenna
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