Poems about times (50 Poems)
The Shower (Charles Bukowski Poem)
we like to shower afterwards (I like the water hotter than she) and her face is always soft and peaceful and she’ll watch me first spread the soap over my balls lift the balls squeeze them, then wash the cock: … Continue reading
A Man (Charles Bukowski Poem)
George was lying in his trailer, flat on his back, watching a small portable T.V. His dinner dishes were undone, his breakfast dishes were undone, he needed a shave, and ash from his rolled cigarettes dropped onto his undershirt. Some … Continue reading
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 contentment- I wouldn’t call it happiness- it was more of an inner balance that settled for whatever was occuring and … Continue reading
The Most Beautiful Woman In Town (Charles Bukowski Poem)
Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes to go with it. Cass was fluid … Continue reading
Let It Enfold You (Charles Bukowski Poem)
either peace or happiness, let it enfold you when i was a young man I felt these things were dumb,unsophisticated. I had bad blood,a twisted mind, a pecarious upbringing. I was hard as granite,I leered at the sun. I trusted … Continue reading
Giant Toad (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
I am too big. Too big by far. Pity me. My eyes bulge and hurt. They are my one great beauty, even so. They see too much, above, below. And yet, there is not much to see. The rain has … Continue reading
Strayed Crab (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
This is not my home. How did I get so far from water? It must be over that way somewhere. I am the color of wine, of tinta. The inside of my powerful right claw is saffron-yellow. See, I see … Continue reading
The Burglar Of Babylon (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
On the fair green hills of Rio There grows a fearful stain: The poor who come to Rio And can’t go home again. On the hills a million people, A million sparrows, nest, Like a confused migration That’s had to … Continue reading
Turns And Movies: Duval’s Birds (Conrad Aiken Poems)
The parrot, screeching, flew out into the darkness, Circled three times above the upturned faces With a great whir of brilliant outspread wings, And then returned to stagger on her finger. She bowed and smiled, eliciting applause. . . The … Continue reading
The House Of Dust: Part 04: 01: Clairvoyant (Conrad Aiken Poem)
‘This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son-or something He knew, was fond of? Something he remembers?- The soul flies far, and we can only call it By things like these . . … Continue reading