http://www.fallingskyhazard.com/catalog.htm
"Some people never go crazy, What truly horrible lives they must
live."
"Show me a man who lives alone and has a perpetually clean kitchen,
and 8 times out of 9 I'll show you a man with detestable spiritual
qualities."
"For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are answered.
But for those of us who can't readily accept the God formula, the big
answers don't remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and
discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command or faith a
dictum. I am my own God. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the
church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer.
We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our
lives so well that Death will tremble to take us."
"To do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous
thing without it. Joan of Arc had style. Jesus had style..."
"An intellectual is a man who says a simple thing in a difficult way;
an artist is a man who says a difficult thing in a simple way."
"You begin saving the world by saving one person at a time all else is
grandiose romanticism or politics."
Q: "What do you think a young poet starting out today needs to learn
the most?"
Charles Bukowski: "He should realize that if he writes something and
it bores him it's going to bore many other people also. There is
nothing wring with a poetry that is entertaining and easy to
understand. Genius could be the ability to say a profound thing in a
simple way. He should stay the hell out of writing classes and find
out what's happening around the corner. And bad luck for the young
poet would be a rich father, an early marriage, an early success or
the ability to do anything well."
The Blackbirds are Rough Today
----------------------------------
lonely as a dry and used orchard
spread over the earth
for use and surrender.
shot down like an ex-pug selling
dailies on the corner.
taken by tears like
an aging chorus girl
who has gotten her last check.
a hanky is in order your lord your
worship.
the blackbirds are rough today
like
ingrown toenails
in an overnight
jail---
wine wine whine,
the blackbirds run around and
fly around
harping about
Spanish melodies and bones.
and everywhere is
nowhere---
the dream is as bad as
flapjacks and flat tires:
why do we go on
with our minds and
pockets full of
dust
like a bad boy just out of
school---
you tell
me,
you who were a hero in some
revolution
you who teach children
you who drink with calmness
you who own large homes
and walk in gardens
you who have killed a man and own a
beautiful wife
you tell me
why I am on fire like old dry
garbage.
we might surely have some interesting
correspondence.
it will keep the mailman busy.
and the butterflies and ants and bridges and
cemeteries
the rocket-makers and dogs and garage mechanics
will still go on a
while
until we run out of stamps
and/or
ideas.
don't be ashamed of
anything; I guess God meant it all
like
locks on
doors.
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