Poems by Charles Bukowski | Poetree

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And The Moon And The Stars And The World

And The Moon And The Stars And The World

Long walks at night—

that's what good for the soul:

peeking into windows

watching tired housewives

trying to fight off

their beer-maddened husbands.

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by Charles Bukowski

Finish

Finish

We are like roses that have never bothered to

bloom when we should have bloomed and

it is as if

the sun has become disgusted with

waiting

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by Charles Bukowski

Death Wants More Death

Death Wants More Death

death wants more death, and its webs are full:

I remember my father's garage, how child-like

I would brush the corpses of flies

from the windows they thought were escape-

their sticky, ugly, vibrant bodies

shouting like dumb crazy dogs against the glass

only to spin and flit

in that second larger than hell or heaven

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by Charles Bukowski

Sway With Me

Sway With Me

sway with me, everything sad —

madmen in stone houses

without doors,

lepers steaming love and song

frogs trying to figure

the sky;

sway with me, sad things —

fingers split on a forge

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by Charles Bukowski

Cows In Art Class

Cows In Art Class

good weather

is like

good women-

it doesn't always happen

and when it does

it doesn't

always last.

man is

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by Charles Bukowski

A Radio With Guts

A Radio With Guts

it was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street

I used to get drunk

and throw the radio through the window

while it was playing, and, of course,

it would break the glass in the window

and the radio would sit there on the roof

still playing

and I'd tell my woman,

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by Charles Bukowski

For Jane

For Jane

225 days under grass

and you know more than I.

they have long taken your blood,

you are a dry stick in a basket.

is this how it works?

in this room

the hours of love

still make shadows.

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by Charles Bukowski

Eat Your Heart Out

Eat Your Heart Out

I've come by, she says, to tell you

that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's

over. this is it.

I sit on the couch watching her arrange

her long red hair before my bedroom

mirror.

she pulls her hair up and

piles it on top of her head-

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by Charles Bukowski

Be Kind

Be Kind

we are always asked

to understand the other person's

viewpoint

no matter how

outdated

foolish or

obnoxious.

one is asked

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by Charles Bukowski

Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame

Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame

some dogs who sleep At night

must dream of bones

and I remember your bones

in flesh

and best

in that dark green dress

and those high-heeled bright

black shoes,

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by Charles Bukowski

I Met A Genius

I Met A Genius

I met a genius on the train

today

about 6 years old,

he sat beside me

and as the train

ran down along the coast

we came to the ocean

and then he looked at me

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by Charles Bukowski

Confession

Confession

waiting for death

like a cat

that will jump on the

bed

I am so very sorry for

my wife

she will see this

stiff

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by Charles Bukowski