Guest Dusty Lipschitz Posted September 10, 2001 Share Posted September 10, 2001 ok his name came up in a post a while ago, and i replied saying he deserves his own post. he really does. i stumbled across buk years ago and was an instant fan. for this who dont know charles bukowski was a miserable, drunk, womanizing, poet. got your attention? he has written many books of poetry, a few novels, a movie, done some artwork and other good shit. damn. i sit here tryin to think what i can write about him. just check him out yourself. here are a few good links: http://realbeer.com/buk/bio.html http://smog.net/writers/bukowski/ here is one of my favorite poems wriiten by him: "The Aliens" you may not believe it but there are people who go through life with very little friction or distress. they dress well, eat well, sleep well. they are contented with their family life. they have moments of grief but all in all they are undisturbed and often feel very good. and when they die it is an easy death, usually in their sleep. you may not believe it but such people do exist. but I am not one of them. oh no, I am not one of them, I am not even near to being one of them but they are there and I am here. **************************************** can you relate? ------------------ Now back to your regularly scheduled re-programming... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mental invalid Posted September 10, 2001 Share Posted September 10, 2001 so ya had to start it eh dusty...nice...at work but can contribute later, but how but this one, dedicated to all those silly scorned or immature doods that dont think women were gods best creation... Yes Yes – Charles Bukowski when God created love He didn’t help most when God created dogs He didn’t help dogs when God created plants that was average when God created hate we had a standard utility when God created me He created me when God created the monkey he was asleep when He created the giraffe He was drunk when he created narcotics He was high and when He created suicide He was low when He created you lying in bed He knew what He was doing He was drunk and He was high and He created the mountains, and the sea and fire at the same time He made some mistakes but when he created you lying in bed He came all over His Blessed Universe Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
brown twinkie Posted September 10, 2001 Share Posted September 10, 2001 http://www.12ozprophet.com/ubb//icons/icon14.gif'> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest professor poopatronic Posted September 11, 2001 Share Posted September 11, 2001 i think i started this topic a while back. definately one of the best. ham on rye is one of the best books i've ever read. one of the few authrs who can make me laugh out loud. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mental invalid Posted September 14, 2001 Share Posted September 14, 2001 .....bump...in times of doubt...charles make me feel so not alone... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dik.n.ur.ear Posted September 14, 2001 Share Posted September 14, 2001 my girlfriend loves bukowski. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest webmaster Posted September 15, 2001 Share Posted September 15, 2001 bump Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mental invalid Posted September 17, 2001 Share Posted September 17, 2001 mondays were made for charles bukowski: "this" self-congratulatory nonsense as the famous gather to applaud their seeming greatness you wonder where the real ones are what giant cave hides them as the deathly talentless bow to accolades as the fools are fooled again you wonder where the real ones are if there are real ones. this self-congratulatory nonsense has lasted decades and with some exceptions centuries. this is so dreary is so absolutely pitiless it churns the gut to powder shackles hope it makes little things like pulling up a shade or putting on your shoes or walking out on the street more difficult near damnable as the famous gather to applaud their seeming greatness as the fools are fooled again humanity you sick motherfucker. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Dusty Lipschitz Posted September 17, 2001 Share Posted September 17, 2001 thanks to all (aka- mental) for keeping the post up what a perfect poem to come into the office on a monday morning to ------------------ Now back to your regularly scheduled re-programming... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
shyster Posted September 17, 2001 Share Posted September 17, 2001 "hello, how are you?" this fear of being what they are: dead at least they are not out on the street,they are carefull to stay indoors, those pasty mad who sit alone before their tv sets, their lives full of canned mutilated laughter. their ideal neighborhood of parked cars of little green lawns of little homes the little doors that open and close as their relatives visit throughout the holidays the doors closing behind the dying who die so slowly behind the dead who are still alive in your quiet average neighborhood of winding streets of agony of confusion of horror of fear of ignorance. a dog standing behind a fence. a man silent at the window. ------------------ we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars--oscar wilde Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mental invalid Posted September 17, 2001 Share Posted September 17, 2001 ^^^^^WOW^^^^^ poetry is so fucking great.... twisting words to make sense mE Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
DIBS Posted September 18, 2001 Share Posted September 18, 2001 from "the new censorship"1992 THE TRICK the amazing thing about many insane people is that they can act perfectly sane when they feel that that need can suit their purpose. in fact, many of these insane can act more sane than a sane person. a sane person, much of the time, is often hesitant about his or her opinions, feelings etc. whereas the insane person is acting sane, since it is an act, can often sound more in control and of more inteligence than the sane. and what astonishes me is that the mad can go from raving and roaring and salivating in a tick and a flick to seeming complete lucidity if they feel, for one reason or another, that this would be beneficial to them. this whole matter is confusing, for if they can act sane, more sane than the sane, then why not? well, they just don't want to. they prefer insanity, they chose it, they languish in it becase by doing it, they destroy us. and thats their goal. to destroy us, not themselves. do you think i'm crazy for saying this? i might be. sounds damned sane, doesn't it? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Dusty Lipschitz Posted September 18, 2001 Share Posted September 18, 2001 the crunch too much too little too fat too thin or nobody. laughter or tears haters lovers strangers with faces like the backs of thumb tacks armies running through streets of blood waving winebottles bayoneting and fucking virgins. an old guy in a cheap room with a photograph of M. Monroe. there is a loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock people so tired mutilated either by love or no love. people just are not good to each other one on one. the rich are not good to the rich the poor are not good to the poor. we are afraid. our educational system tells us that we can all be big-ass winners it hasn't told us about the gutters or the suicides. or the terror of one person aching in one place alone untouched unspoken to watering a plant. people are not good to each other. people are not good to each other. people are not good to each other. I suppose they never will be. I don't ask them to be. but sometimes I think about it. the beads will swing the clouds will cloud and the killer will behead the child like taking a bite out of an ice cream cone. too much too little too fat too thin or nobody more haters than lovers. people are not good to each other. perhaps if they were our deaths would not be so sad. meanwhile I look at young girls stems flowers of chance. there must be a way. surely there must be a way that we have not yet though of. who put this brain inside of me? it cries it demands it says that there is a chance. it will not say "no." ------------------ Now back to your regularly scheduled re-programming... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
imported_! Hoes Get Sex ! Posted September 19, 2001 Share Posted September 19, 2001 My last 3 books i read have been by Bukowski. I enjoy the subject matter and can relate to alot of his drunkeness and feelings toward life and woman. Currently I am reading "Tales of ordinary madness," and its some good shit. Peace to the Buk fans!!! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
teister Posted September 19, 2001 Share Posted September 19, 2001 This guy is dope. I've never heard of him before, but i'm going to check his stuff out. Thanks. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
drunknessmonster Posted October 18, 2001 Share Posted October 18, 2001 i stole my friend this volume of short stories by buk. but with illstrations by r. crumbs. there's like 10-12 of them, all comic book sized. all short stories. i'm currently in 'south of no north'.. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Dusty Lipschitz Posted October 18, 2001 Share Posted October 18, 2001 Originally posted by drunknessmonster i stole my friend this volume of short stories by buk. but with illstrations by r. crumbs. there's like 10-12 of them, all comic book sized. all short stories. i'm currently in 'south of no north'.. i have a few of those nothing beats some creative shit by dirty ol' men Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mental invalid Posted October 18, 2001 Share Posted October 18, 2001 ....dusty ya ever heard em do spoken word? i got only one tape of him, basically its him getting progressively wasted rasping into a mic, shouting and mumling his poetry...needless to say its the shit....alot of it is from "drowning in the flames...."...if we ever cross paths in the universe youll have to check it out...its completely how i imagined his voice.... if your not enjoying the poetry in the day to day you aint livin peter pan Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Dusty Lipschitz Posted October 18, 2001 Share Posted October 18, 2001 we actually have an amazing independent video store here, that specialize in indie/out or print/b-movies (betty page loops, odd propaganda films, etc.) i was in there one day and came across the bukowski video tapes. there was one that was 2 videos and a single one. i rented the double and like you said, it was vintage buk, sipping wine, getting slushed and reading/mumbling his works. i should own it, but i dont in fact, i havent seen barfy now that i think of it... go to amazon or ebay and do searchesthey have some cds, videos etc. an autographed bukowski something is gonna be on the xmas wishlist this year... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest bug Posted October 20, 2001 Share Posted October 20, 2001 "a tragic meeting" i was more visible and available then and i had this great weakness: i thought that going to bed with many women meant that a man was clever and good and superior especially if he did it at the age of 55 to any number of bunnies and i lifted weights drank like mad and did that. most of the women were nice and most of them looked good and only one or two were really dumb and dull but JoJo I can't even categorize. her letters were slight, repeated the same things: "I like your books, would like to meet you..." I wrote back and told her it would be all right. then along came the instructions where i was to meet her: at this college on this date at this time just after her classes. the college was up in the hills and the day and time arrived and with her drawings of twisted streets plus a road map I set out. it was somehwere between the Rose Bowl and one of the largest graveyards in Southern California and I got there early and sat in my car nipping at the Cutty Sark and looking at the co-eds- there were so many of them, one simply couldn't have them all. then the bell rang and i got of the my car and walked to the front of the building, there was a long row of steps and the students walked out of the building and down the steps and I stood and waited, and like with airport arrivals I had no idea whihc one it would be. "Chinaski," somebody said and there she was: 18, 19, neither ugly nor beautiful, of average body and features, seeming to be neither vicious, intelligent, dumb or insane. we kissed lightly and then I asked her if she had a car and she said she had a car and I said, "fine, I'll drive you to it, then you follow me..." JoJo was a good follower, she followed me all the way to my beat-up court in east Hollywood. I poured her a drink and we talked very drab talk and kissed a bit. the kisses were neither good nor bad nor interesting or un- interesting. much time went by and she drank very little and we kissed some more and she said, "I like your books, they really do things to me." "Fuck my books!" I told her. I was down to my shorts and I had her skirt up to her ass and I was working hard but she just kissed and talked. she responded and she didn't respond. then I gave up and started drinking heavily. she mentioned a few of the other writers she liked but she didn't like any of them the way she liked me. "yeah," I poured a new one, "is that so?" "I've got to get going," JoJo said, "I've got class in the morning." "you can sleep here," I suggested, "and get an early start, I scramble great eggs." "no, thank you, I've got to go..." and she left with several copies of my books she had never seen before, copies i had given her much earlier in the evening. I had another drink and decided to sleep it off as an unexplainable loss. I switched off the lights and threw myself upon the bed without washing-up or brushing my teeth. I looked up into the dark and thought, now, here is one I will never be able to write about: she was neither good nor bad, real or unreal, kind or unkind, she was just a girl from a college somewhere between the Rose Bowl and the dumping grounds. then I began to itch, I scratched myself, I seemed to feel things on my face, on my belly, I inhaled, exhaled, tried to sleep but the itching got worse, then I felt a bite, then several bites, things appeared to be crawling on me... I rushed to the bathroom and switched on the light my god, JoJo had fleas. I stepped into the shower stood there adjusting the water, thinking, that poor dear girl. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest TEARZ Posted October 20, 2001 Share Posted October 20, 2001 you know, i'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that i really don't like him. granted, i've only read hot water music, but i just found him very off putting for me. and it's not because of his drinking/ views on women/ whatever his common knocks are.... off putting is a weak way to say it because it gets caught up in all that other crap. i guess i'm just not digging him. or to be fair, that one book. i didn't take a lot away from it. and as far as literature is concerned, i usually feel like i can always take something away from a book. whatever. it's not that deep. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
backcountrywriter Posted October 21, 2001 Share Posted October 21, 2001 that guy has a killer name Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest drewWrite Posted October 23, 2001 Share Posted October 23, 2001 bump Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Dow Jonez Posted October 23, 2001 Share Posted October 23, 2001 i was rumaging through a library years ago and by absolute chance ran into a book by charles bukowski.........i loved it and told everyone i knew to read his shit Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Dusty Lipschitz Posted October 11, 2002 Share Posted October 11, 2002 why write your anthropology paper, when you could be reading buk? bump wonk saggin Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mental invalid Posted October 15, 2002 Share Posted October 15, 2002 hoolla......... BEER from: Love is A Mad Dog From Hell I don't know how many bottles of beer I have consumed while waiting for things to get better I dont know how much wine and whisky and beer mostly beer I have consumed after splits with women- waiting for the phone to ring waiting for the sound of footsteps, and the phone to ring waiting for the sounds of footsteps, and the phone never rings until much later and the footsteps never arrive until much later when my stomach is coming up out of my mouth they arrive as fresh as spring flowers: "what the hell have you done to yourself? it will be 3 days before you can fuck me!" the female is durable she lives seven and one half years longer than the male, and she drinks very little beer because she knows its bad for the figure. while we are going mad they are out dancing and laughing with horney cowboys. well, there's beer sacks and sacks of empty beer bottles and when you pick one up the bottle fall through the wet bottom of the paper sack rolling clanking spilling gray wet ash and stale beer, or the sacks fall over at 4 a.m. in the morning making the only sound in your life. beer rivers and seas of beer the radio singing love songs as the phone remains silent and the walls stand straight up and down and beer is all there is. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
zen Posted October 15, 2002 Share Posted October 15, 2002 that tragic meeting one was really great. "fuck my books" Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Dusty Lipschitz Posted February 19, 2003 Share Posted February 19, 2003 "i'm in love" she's young, she said, but look at me, I have pretty ankles, and look at my wrists, I have pretty wrists o my god, I thought it was all working, and now it's her again, every time she phones you go crazy, you told me it was over you told me it was finished, listen, I've loved long enough to become a good woman, why do you need a bad woman? you need to be tortured, don't you? you think life is rotten if somebody treats you rotten it all fits, doesn't it? tell me, is that it? do you want to be treated like a piece of shit? and my son, my son was going to meet you. I told my son and I dropped all my lovers. I stood up in a cafe and screamed I'M IN LOVE, and now you've made a fool of me ... I'm sorry, I said, I'm really sorry. hold me, she said, will you please hold me? I've never been in one of these things before, I said, these triangles ... she got up and lit a cigarette, she was trembling all over. she paced up and down, wild and crazy. she had a small body. her arms were thin, very thin, and when she screamed and started beating me I held her wrists and then I got it through the eyes: hatred, centuries deep and true. I was wrong and graceless and sick. all the things I had learned had been wasted. there was no living creature as foul as I and all my poems were false. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
DISCO BRYSO Posted February 20, 2003 Share Posted February 20, 2003 I'm a fan.. ham on rye is unbeatable. dusty, you should check out henry darger if you like creative shit from dirty old men.. read about his life. I rented barfly today.. here's to hoping it's good. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
KaBar Posted February 20, 2003 Share Posted February 20, 2003 Ugly on the outside. Beautiful on the inside. Genius. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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