An Almost Made Up Poem (Charles Bukowski Poem)
I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny they are small, ...
I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny they are small, ...
Earliest morning, switching all the tracks that cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets ...
Oh, but it is dirty! --this little filling station, oil-soaked, oil-permeated to a disturbing, over-all black translucency. Be careful with ...
She slides over the hot upholstery of her mother's car, this schoolgirl of fifteen who loves humming & swaying with ...
'This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son-or something He knew, was fond ...
The door is shut. She leaves the curtained office, And down the grey-walled stairs comes trembling slowly Towards the dazzling ...
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees The soft blue starlight through the one small window, The moon ...
Of what she said to me that night-no matter. The strange thing came next day. My brain was full of ...
Over the darkened city, the city of towers, The city of a thousand gates, Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
She ONLY to be twin elements of joy In this extravagance of Being, Love, Were our divided natures shaped in ...
How could I love you more? I would give up Even that beauty I have loved too well That I ...
Why do you always stand there shivering Between the white stream and the road? The people pass through the dust ...
Lo giorno se n'andava, e l'aere bruno toglieva li animai che sono in terra da le fatiche loro; e io ...
Under Mirabeau Bridge runs the Seine And our loves Must I remember them Joy came always after pain Let arriving ...
There is a street where they sell only red meat And there is a street where they sell only clothes ...
A man doesn't have time in his life to have time for everything. He doesn't have seasons enough to have ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, ...
BEHOLD the hour, the boat arrive; Thou goest, the darling of my heart; Sever'd from thee, can I survive, But ...
HERE'S to thy health, my bonie lass, Gude nicht and joy be wi' thee; I'll come nae mair to thy ...
THE GLOOMY night is gath'ring fast, Loud roars the wild, inconstant blast, Yon murky cloud is foul with rain, I ...
OPPRESS'D with grief, oppress'd with care, A burden more than I can bear, I set me down and sigh; O ...
THE SUN had clos'd the winter day, The curless quat their roarin play, And hunger'd maukin taen her way, To ...
I GAT your letter, winsome Willie; Wi' gratefu' heart I thank you brawlie; Tho' I maun say't, I wad be ...
THE WINTER it is past, and the summer comes at last And the small birds, they sing on ev'ry tree; ...
RecitativoWHEN lyart leaves bestrow the yird, Or wavering like the bauckie-bird, Bedim cauld Boreas' blast; When hailstanes drive wi' bitter ...
FINTRY, my stay in wordly strife, Friend o' my muse, friend o' my life, Are ye as idle's I am? ...
HAIL, Poesie! thou Nymph reserv'd! In chase o' thee, what crowds hae swerv'd Frae common sense, or sunk enerv'd 'Mang ...
FAREWELL, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now gay with the broad setting sun; Farewell, loves and ...
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