BLUEBIRD - Poem by Charles Bukowski

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out

but I'm too tough for him
I say, stay in there
I'm not going to let anybody see you

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out

but I pur whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks
never know that he's in there

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out

but I'm too tough for him
I say
stay down, do you want to mess me up?
you want to screw up the works?
you want to blow my book sales in Europe?

there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out

but I'm too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep
I say, I know that you're there
so don't be sad
then I put him back
but he's singing a little in there, I haven't quite let him die
and we sleep together like that with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to make a man
weep
but I don't weep
do you?
 The Genius Of The Crowd - Poem by Charles Bukowski
there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it

and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god

those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers

beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred

there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond

like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art

 The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski

your life is your life

don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.
 All the way by Charles Bukowski

If you going to try, go all the way.

Otherwise, don’t even start.
if you’re going to try, go all the way.
this could mean losig girlfriends,
wives, relatives, jobs and
maybe your mind.
go all the way.
it could mean not eating for 3 or 4 days.
it could mean freezing on a
park bench.
it could mean jail,
it could mean derision,
mockery,
isolation.
isolation is the gift,
all the others are a test of your endurance,
of how much you really want to do it.
and you’ll do it
despite rejection and the worst odds
and it will be better then
anything else
you can imagine.
if you’re goint to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like that.
you will be alone with the gods
and the night will flame with
fire.
do it, do it, do it.
do it.
all the way.
all the way.
you will ride life straight to
perfect laughter, its
the only good fight
there is.