henrycharlesbukowski

THE BLUEBIRD

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 pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery cerks 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 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?

—  Charles Bukowski, The Last Night of the Eart Poems (prima parte), 1993.

Charles Bukowski - we must


we must bring
our own light
to the
darkness.

nobody is going
to do it
for us.


as the young boys
ski
down the
slopes
as the fry cook
gets his last
paycheck
as dog chases
dog
as the chessmaster
loses more than
the game


we must bring
our own light
to the
darkness.

nobody is going
to do it
for us,


as the lonely
telephone
anybody
anywhere
as the great beast
trembles
in nightmare
as the final season
leaps into
focus


nobody is going
to do it
for us.