#bukowski poems on Hello Poetry

eunsung aka Silas Aug 2017

500

five hundred words are not enough
to say all the things I need to say
but five hundred poems are **** sure enough
on hello poetry to get noticed

alas, I write poetry for the sake of poetry
just like good ole Charles Bukowski
cranking out words with a foul mouth
without a care for the audience

I write words for the sake of my soul
because it is the only time that my heart
feels free to be whatever it needs to be
without the world confining me

so **** straight. I wrote five hundred
words for my five hundredth poem
because I rarely write so many words
to express what is in my soul

I should be listening to jazz while I write this
just like Kerouac so my words will have a beat and rhythm
of the sounds of bebop, instead of a cadence of all my own
who wants originality when you can have novelty

everyone is nostalgic to recreate what has been captured before
the great writers and poets of our time regurgitate what’s been said
for me I don’t really give a **** about the words,
so much as how I let the words live out into my life through my actions

words matter because they order our thoughts and feelings,
they give shape to the amorphous images that play in our minds and hearts and once something comes into being, then oh man man do they have power
that’s why knowing the name of something really means something

who knows if meaning comes from the words, or words come from the meaning
did the chicken came first or the egg?
all I care about is how you cook the ****** chicken or the egg
fried chicken and I prefer my egg sunny side up

Bukowski eat your heart out as I write my stream of consciousness
five hundred word poem for my five hundredth poem
is it getting a bit redundant?
I am a firm believer that less is more

but sometimes I want my words to beat out like they used to
on old type writers like a **** machine gun
the beat flowing like the drums of a marching band
that gives life to even the worst of brass section

I don’t know if my heart can truly sing in a sea of so many words
I prefer capturing a single moment with 10 words, maybe 20 words
anything more than that feels like a waste
just like a coffee ice cream ruined by too much toppings

I am a minimalist at heart
even though I can’t declutter my stuff
holding onto old forgotten receipts
closet full of clothes I never wear

however, on most days my mind is clutter free
old resents are shoved out
fear written and jotted away
the book of the past closed

each day is a gift
freely given
each breath new

may you be blessed
may we keep sharing
for fun and
for free

My 500th poem on HP with 500 words.

#500 #five #hundred #words #poetry #bukowski #kerouac #jazz #hell #poet

Sandoval Aug 2017

Poets

With Neruda, I fell in love with you.

It was so beautiful, I felt I had to close my eyes wide shut,

just to remember this was not a dream.

Then Hemingway came along, by then I was feeling a little lost in your eyes. Some days were good, some days were bad. Yet, I still held on.

But when I suddenly found myself with Bukowski on my nightstand.

Well, I knew then, baby, we were ******. He brought me back to reality, and I understood at that moment, that we were finally done.

*Sandoval

Now I don't read any of them, they remind me too much of you..

To Drew.

#sandoval #poetsofig #instagrampoets #love #romance #novels #hemingway #neruda #bukowski

afteryourimbaud Jul 2017

this empty space

Nothing has
taken place
in this empty
cold and dark
remote room
it has been
and always will be
empty.

I can hear the
punching
on the table
the hard slamming
of the door
the shouting
of an ecstasy rage
from the outside
but still in here
in my little, cramped
secluded room
it is just silence.

There is nothing
for me
to command
in this
empty space
a wise, old
drunk man
once said
'don't try'
and somehow
it turns out
to be true
that everything
is here
not to be tried
and for all the
emptiness in it
there is nothing
for me
to command
in this
empty space.

There is nothing
for me
to wander around
in this empty space
there is no
road, street
or alley
for me to go
back and forth
but there is
always this
static presence
of feeling
of nature
of instinct
that has been
squashing me
sitting on me
telling me
to run and jump
frantically, wildly
just to see that
it bores nothing
and there is nothing
for me
to wander around
in this
empty space.

This empty space
can't be filled
this empty space
can't be replaced
this empty space
can't be changed
for
this empty space
has always been
empty
and it will
always be.

20/12/2015

#life #love #sad #happiness #poem #poetry #literature #bukowski #emptyspace #empty

Devin Jul 2017

the next great american anything

I've confined the greatest hits of Marx
to a playlist
and periodically map over them with dull,
grasping eyes, when desperate for talking points
or anti-capitalism ideation

The works of Bukowski, Poe, Emerson,
tethered to my fingertips where I can stave
them off enough to hold concept
but unearth no meaning

I can pull and manipulate quotes
like nobody's business

I googled Sigmund Freud once
because I forgot how to spell his name

If photos could become life
and give justice to experience and wealth,
I would be Frank Lloyd Wright

If John Muir had an iPhone,
he would be as distracted and rooted
Somehow he died surrounded by angels
at the advent of advertising and public relations;

Emily Dickinson would have been
an Instagram model and romanticized
mental illness

I gasp in admiration and nostalgia
at Rockwell, but that world never existed
beyond his oil, canvas and scope

If the people that wrote the history books
had to read them, they would be
as insatiable as me.

All we are is illusions of aesthetics
to one another
Trapped in the vaguely perfect candor
of rehearsed moments

Tripped up and mired in perspective
because we aren't as lost as they
Only lost to ourselves

The library of my mind relies
on binary communication,
programmed in arbitration

And inside, there's a small child
whose heart still desires to play
But he's overwhelmed and crying for help

In the corner, a yearning spirit
is steadfast and pacified
Forming a benchmark of baseline bullet points
Wrought with cynicism

I am not smart
I am not profound
I am not layered
I am not organic
I am not the next great American anything

#america #literature #psychology #philosophy #marx #bukowski #poe #emerson #dickinson #technology

Macktheknife Jun 2017

wouldn't that be neat

The teachers had plastered 4 letter quotes on the transparent walls of are class room.
this was to inspire are growing minds and motivate at 9:30am to give a **** about algebra.
but much like algebra, very few of us will find these's useful in are adult lives. With quotes like "The truth is like a ****.You don't have to defend it. Let it loose. It will defend it shelf'- St.Augustine.
Lion are an endangered species, held in captivity and are killed for sport.
but ya know the quote idea is good.
we just need the right quotes.
like an excerpt from Bukowski.
"the crunch" would be the just the thing.
I live for the day i see
"people are not good to each other"
"people are not good to each other "
next to a quote from the bible about a loving your neighbor.
The day i see that is the day i start doing algebra.
but
until
then.

random thought i had this morning

#school #math #bukowski #teachers #poem #thecrunch

Jodie LindaMae May 2017

Bukowski

The fig tree metaphor
Seems to gain much more meaning
The older I get.
I put a cigarette behind my ear today
And when I removed it to smoke
I realized that it was wet with the oil
From my scalp; I smoked it anyway.

Does smoking my ****** fluids
Make me seem a little more
Bukowski than normal?
Bob Dylan, the unwashed phenomenon
Of his day
Held no candle (in my opinion)
To Phil Ochs
But here we are,
Marching on
Because the Times Are Changing.

Remember me
When the draft comes
And they forget your sunken eyes and sallow skin.
Remember me and how I said
That purple and yellow
Were my favorite colors.

#love #lust #anger #bobdylan #bukowski #sylviaplath #homage

Aaron LaLux Apr 2017

Words Heavy (Kiss Bukowski)

Words Heavy (Kiss Bukowski)

Drinking White Russians with Black Kenyans,
not joking you I was just in Ethiopia,
this it not a Haiku or a Love Poem,
this is gifted insanity like Jim Morrison,

no jealousy I’m already Seamus Heaney,
isn’t it ironic how we can be both depressed and happy,
like a ghost that won’t leave earth,
or a Self that’s over the hill but still tries to write ****,

oh that’s touching,
like John Updike meeting E.E. Cummings,
not gay no way,
but I’d still kiss Charles Bukowski,

no bukkaki though,
because I’m a Simple Man and rather than,
bukkaki I’d probably like to make Love One on One,
I guess I’m New School and Old Fashion,

flirting with Death like I’ve already got my chips cashed in,
Life a Trip and can be a ***** it depends on how you’re acting,
as an overwhelming sense of anxiety creeps into me,
like being Maya Angelou performing a show for the ****,

a Civil Rights Superhero,
that makes Her point without any lustful thoughts of revenge,
presence light as a snowflake,
words heavy as the weight of the world on her back as it bends,

words heavy as the weight of the world on my will as it bends,

all the white watching my own show from the front row,
drinking White Russians with Black Kenyans,

joking I’m not joking,
I was just in Ethiopia,
this it not a Haiku or a Love Poem,
this is gifted insanity like Jim Morrison…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

#gay #alcohol #africa #wordplay #bukowski #ethiopia #jimmorrison

Kassana Mar 2017

Scarlet

it's so strange afterwards
when it's finished
when it has been finished for some
time--
she sat on her bed in her bedroom
and I sat in a chair
and I had to tell her how strange it
was--
"nothing against you
but when I look at you now
I can't understand how you ever made a
madman out of me,
how you got hold of my feelings..."
she just sat there and smiled,
her body the same,
her red hair as long as ever.
she had never loved me.
it only mattered a little to her
that I had gotten away.
she was working on other prey.
she sat there and told me about him.
I listened.
when I left I didn't kiss her goodbye.
I got into my car and drove away.
after driving 4 or 5 blocks
I was no longer
thinking about her.

By Charles Bukowski

#charles #bukowski

Lorenzo Iñigo Jimenez Mar 2017

"There is a loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock"

Much can happen
In the space
Between the marks
Of the seconds
On a clock

The world could turn
Into a murky brown puddle
Of **** and shitstains
That dirties the boots
Of all the people
On the way to work
Or home to the wife
And twelve kids

The room with white walls
Slowly but surely
Turns to one with black walls
That sweat dark pearls
That melt the doorknob,
Block the windows,
And cover the door

The bubbles in the bath
Burst and leave clear water
That hold your floating filth
In microscopic specks
And the flickering light
Flirts with you
To dip your head and fall asleep
In the fading warmth

Based on some lines of The Crunch by Charles Bukowski

#sad #depression #lonely #pain #depressed #time #hurt #bukowski