How Is Your Heart? (Charles Bukowski Poem)
during my worst times on the park benches in the jails or living with whores I always had this certain ...
during my worst times on the park benches in the jails or living with whores I always had this certain ...
Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl in town. 1/2 Indian ...
I pick up the skirt, I pick up the sparkling beads in black, this thing that moved once around flesh, ...
Half squatter, half tenant (no rent)- a sort of inheritance; white, in your thirties now, and supposed to supply me ...
I A washing hangs upon the line, but it's not mine. None of the things that I can see belong ...
I caught a tremendous fish and held him beside the boat half out of water, with my hook fast in ...
Inheritance. I wasn't raised to call myself Black, Indian, Chinese-- "You're human," said my parents. That was all. By the ...
I heard an echo in a hollow place. No sound of blowing wind or drifting sand, some ancient voice was ...
highway dancing during a long day of running my thumb, carrying me nowhere grew tired, a sunset and beauty carved ...
They call it stroke. Two we loved were stunned by that same blow of cudgel or axe to the brow. ...
'This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son-or something He knew, was fond ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees The soft blue starlight through the one small window, The moon ...
You read-what is it, then that you are reading? What music moves so silently in your mind? Your bright hand ...
1 Senlin sat before us and we heard him. He smoked his pipe before us and we saw him. Was ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born; Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
Oh! Mr. Best, you're very bad And all the world shall know it; Your base behaviour shall be sung By ...
Just when I thought there wasn't room enough for another thought in my head, I had this great idea-- call ...
Orpheus liked the glad personal quality Of the things beneath the sky. Of course, Eurydice was a part Of this. ...
Something strange is creeping across me. La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars Of "I Thought about ...
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
How changed is here each spot man makes or fills! In the two Hinkseys nothing keeps the same; The village ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
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