…how abstract thy harvest rose doth fall, consigned to the flames of woe in sweet modesty…
by Charles Bukowski the balance is preserved by the snails climbing the Santa Monica cliffs; the luck is in walking down Western Avenue and having the girls in a massage parlor holler at you, “Hello Sweetie!” the miracle is having 5 women in love with you at the age of 55, and the goodness is [...]
if i believe in death be sure of this it is because you have loved me, moon and sunset stars and flowers gold crescendo and silver muting of seatides i trusted not, one night when in my fingers drooped your shining body when my heart sang between your perfect breasts darkness and beauty of stars [...]
I have not always had this certainty, this pessimism which reassures the best among us. There was a time when my friends laughed at me. I was not the master of my words. A certain indifference, I have not always known well what I wanted to say, but most often it was because I had [...]
I’d like to live with You In a small town, Where there are eternal twilights And eternal bells. And in a small village inn— The faint chime Of ancient clocks—like droplets of time. And sometimes, in the evenings, from some garret— A flute, And the flautist himself in the window. And big tulips in the [...]
I laid me down upon a bank, Where Love lay sleeping; I heard among the rushes dank Weeping, weeping. Then I went to the heath and the wild, To the thistles and thorns of the waste; And they told me how they were beguiled, Driven out, and compelled to the chaste. I went to the [...]
“Suffering only hurts because you fear it. Suffering only hurts because you complain about it. It pursues you only because you flee from it. You must not flee, you must not complain, you must not fear. You must love. You know all this yourself, you know quite well, deep within you, that there is only [...]
Come with me, I said, and no one knew where, or how my pain throbbed, no carnations or barcaroles for me, only a wound that love had opened. I said it again: Come with me, as if I were dying, and no one saw the moon that bled in my mouth or the blood that [...]
