awakeningtothedream.com Forum Index awakeningtothedream.com
Non Duality: The one question to all our answers.
 
 FAQFAQ   SearchSearch   MemberlistMemberlist   UsergroupsUsergroups   RegisterRegister 
 ProfileProfile   Log in to check your private messagesLog in to check your private messages   Log inLog in 

life Is Like A Bukowski Poem

 
Post new topic   Reply to topic    awakeningtothedream.com Forum Index -> Poetry
View previous topic :: View next topic  
Author Message
annaruiz



Joined: 14 Nov 2006
Posts: 385
Location: Ohio

PostPosted: Thu Sep 27, 2007 6:54 pm    Post subject: life Is Like A Bukowski Poem Reply with quote

First Charles Bukowski's (1920-1994) poem:

my uncle Jack

my uncle Jack
is a mouse
is a house on fire
is a war about to begin
is a man running down the street with a knife in his back.

my uncle Jack
is the Santa Monica pier
is a dusty blue pillow
is a scratching black and white dog
is a man with one arm lighting a cigarette with one hand

my uncle Jack
is a slice of burnt toast
is the place you forgot to look for the key
is the pleasure of finding 3 rolls of toilet paper in the closet
is the worst dream you've ever had that you can't remember

my uncle Jack
is the firecracker that went off in your hand
is your run-over cat dead outside your driveway at 10:30 a.m.
is the crap game you won in the Santa Anita parking lot
is the man your woman left you for that night in the cheap hotel room.

my uncle Jack
is your uncle jack
is death coming like a freight train a clown with weeping eyes
is your car jack and your fingernails and the scream of the biggest
mountain now.




Life Is Like A Bukowski Poem


Life Is like Bukowski Poem
public, raw and ugly
no punches held
back,
rough, red scars on a
beaten-down body
a drunken Soul
thirsting for more,

as if you're defending
your own all-alone life,
as if an energy
sucks you through
to the other side
where his poems
live

oh, so fuckingly beautifully,
alive.



Love,
Anna


p.s. I wrote this poem this morning, recently coming home from a funeral for one of my 'patients'.


Last edited by annaruiz on Mon Oct 01, 2007 2:53 pm; edited 1 time in total
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
michael



Joined: 18 Oct 2003
Posts: 3816
Location: Melbourne, Australia

PostPosted: Fri Sep 28, 2007 5:02 am    Post subject: Re: life Is Like A Buckowski Poem Reply with quote

annaruiz wrote:


Life Is Like A Bukowski Poem


Life Is like Bukowski Poem
public, raw and ugly
no punches held
back,
rough, red scars on a
beaten-down body
a drunken Soul
thirsting for more,

as if you're defending
your own all-alone life,
as if an energy
sucks you through
to the other side
where his poems
live

oh, so fuckingly beautifully,
alive.



Love,
Anna


p.s. I wrote this poem this morning, recently coming home from a funeral for one of my 'patients'.


this morning... this poem was anna...
though she did not know it...

only Life itself...

oh, so fuckingly beautifully,
alive.

Love
_________________
From Source to Source: an Endless Spring
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
awakening
Site Admin


Joined: 12 Nov 2005
Posts: 2277

PostPosted: Fri Sep 28, 2007 7:19 am    Post subject: Re: life Is Like A Buckowski Poem Reply with quote

annaruiz wrote:
First Charles Bukowski's (1920-1994) poem:

my uncle Jack

my uncle Jack
is a mouse
is a house on fire
is a war about to begin
is a man running down the street with a knife in his back.

my uncle Jack
is the Santa Monica pier
is a dusty blue pillow
is a scratching black and white dog
is a man with one arm lighting a cigarette with one hand

my uncle Jack
is a slice of burnt toast
is the place you forgot to look for the key
is the pleasure of finding 3 rolls of toilet paper in the closet
is the worst dream you've ever had that you can't remember

my uncle Jack
is the firecracker that went off in your hand
is your run-over cat dead outside your driveway at 10:30 a.m.
is the crap game you won in the Santa Anita parking lot
is the man your woman left you for that night in the cheap hotel room.

my uncle Jack
is your uncle jack
is death coming like a freight train a clown with weeping eyes
is your car jack and your fingernails and the scream of the biggest
mountain now.




Life Is Like A Bukowski Poem


Life Is like Bukowski Poem
public, raw and ugly
no punches held
back,
rough, red scars on a
beaten-down body
a drunken Soul
thirsting for more,

as if you're defending
your own all-alone life,
as if an energy
sucks you through
to the other side
where his poems
live

oh, so fuckingly beautifully,
alive.



Love,
Anna


p.s. I wrote this poem this morning, recently coming home from a funeral for one of my 'patients'.


Yes Anna
Life
like 'your' poem
Ugly raw beautiful!
IT appearing to ItSelf
as all this....

yingyang yingyang yingyang


Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Display posts from previous:   
Post new topic   Reply to topic    awakeningtothedream.com Forum Index -> Poetry All times are GMT
Page 1 of 1

 
Jump to:  
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum


Powered by phpBB © 2001, 2005 phpBB Group