Charles Bukowski Poems on Woman (27 Poems)

Crucifix In A Deathhand (Charles Bukowski Poems)

yes, they begin out in a willow, I think the starch mountains begin out in the willow and keep right on going without regard for pumas and nectarines somehow these mountains are like an old woman with a bad memory … Continue reading →

Interview By A Guggenheim Recipient (Charles Bukowski Poems)

this South American up here on a Gugg walked in with his whore and she sat on the edge of my bed and crossed her fine legs and I kept looking at her legs and he pulled at his stringy … Continue reading →

A 340 Dollar Horse And A Hundred Dollar Whore (Charles Bukowski Poems)

don’t ever get the idea I am a poet; you can see me at the racetrack any day half drunk betting quarters, sidewheelers and straight thoroughs, but let me tell you, there are some women there who go where the … Continue reading →

2 Flies (Charles Bukowski Poems)

The flies are angry bits of life; why are they so angry?it seems they want more,it seems almost as if theyare angrythat they are flies;it is not my fault;I sit in the roomwith themand they taunt mewith their agony;it is … Continue reading →

The Japanese Wife (Charles Bukowski Poems)

O lord, he said, Japanese women, real women, they have not forgotten, bowing and smiling closing the wounds men have made; but American women will kill you like they tear a lampshade, American women care less than a dime, they’ve … Continue reading →

Close To Greatness (Charles Bukowski Poems)

at one stage in my lifeI met a man who claimed to havevisited Pound at St. Elizabeth’s. then I met a woman who not onlyclaimed to have visitedE.P.but also to have made loveto him-she even showedmecertain sections in theCantoswhere Ezra … Continue reading →

The Great Slob (Charles Bukowski Poems)

I was always a natural slobI liked to lay upon the bedin undershirt (stained, ofcourse) (and with cigaretteholes)shoes offbeer bottle in handtrying to shake off adifficult night, say with awoman still aroundwalking the floorcomplaining about this andthat,and I’d work up … Continue reading →

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 →

Young In New Orleans (Charles Bukowski Poem)

starving there, sitting around the bars, and at night walking the streets for hours, the moonlight always seemed fake to me, mabye it was, and in the French Quarter I watched the horses and buggies going by, everybody sitting high … 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 →