Those faces you see every day on the streets were not created entirely without...– Charles Bukowski
I will remember your small room the feel of you the light in the window your records your books our morning coffee our noons our nights our bodies spilled together sleeping the tiny flowing currents immediate and forever your leg my leg your arm my arm your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.
I am in chains. Don’t touch my chains. - Franz Kafka
and we will forget you, somewhat, and it is not kind but real bodies are nearer and as the worms pant for your bones, I would so like to tell you that this happens to bears and elephants to tyrants and heroes and ants and frogs, From poem “for marylin m.” Charles Bukowski
on lighting a cigar
I light a cigar, lean back remember dead friends dead days dead loves; so much has gone by for most of us, even the young, especially the young for they have lost the beginning and have the rest of the way to go;
today, i think i’ve forgotten your voice. last night i was sitting in my room thinking of the myriad ways i could drag this on, pretend i could turn this into the biggest story you can find. why were we standing in empty spots thinking we could fill it in? i sleep all day, smoke cigarettes, drink alcohol and crawl back into bed. this is enough, ignore the dishes to be washed, the ...
when leather is a whip, martín espada
At night, with my wife sitting on the bed, I turn from her to unbuckle my belt so she won’t see her father unbuckling his belt
The Uses of Sorrow
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem) Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift. —Mary Oliver
Love is the phone ringing, the same voice or another voice but never the right...– Charles Bukowski
The loneliness was still there, but it was getting louder and easier to dance...
"Head, Heart" by Lydia Davis
Heart weeps. Head tries to help heart. Head tells heart how it is, again: You will lose the ones you love. They will all go. But even the earth will go, someday. Heart feels better, then. But the words of head do not remain long in the ears of heart. Heart is so new to this. I want them back, says heart. Head is all heart has. Help, head. Help heart.
The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are...– Fernando Pessoa | Bernardo Soares, The Book of Disquiet
On Turning Ten
This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself, as I walk through the universe in my sneakers. It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends, time to turn the first big number. It seems only yesterday I used to believe there was nothing under my skin but light. If you cut me I could shine. But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life, I skin my knees. I bleed.
Write hard and clear about what hurts.– Ernest Hemingway