Three by Bukowski

All of these are from The Last Night of the Earth Poems by Charles Bukowski.

air and light and time and space

“ – you know, I’ve ei­ther had a fam­ily, a job,
some­thing has al­ways been in the
but now
I’ve sold my house, I’ve found this
place, a large stu­dio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I’m go­ing to have
a place and the time to

no baby, if you’re go­ing to cre­ate
you’re go­ing to cre­ate whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
you’re go­ing to cre­ate in a small room with 3 chil­dren
while you’re on
you’re go­ing to cre­ate with part of your mind and your body blown
you’re go­ing to cre­ate blind
you’re go­ing to cre­ate with a cat crawl­ing up your
back while
the whole city trem­bles in earth­quake, bom­bard­ment,
flood and fire.

baby, air and light and time and space
have noth­ing to do with it
and don’t cre­ate any­thing
ex­cept maybe a longer life to find
new ex­cuses

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

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 clerks
never know that
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
you want to blow my book sales in

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

then I put him back,
but he’s singing a lit­tle
in there, I haven’t quite let him
and we sleep to­gether like
with our
se­cret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do

po­etry con­test

send as many po­ems as you wish, only
keep each to a max­i­mum of ten lines.
no limit as to style or con­tent
al­though we prefer po­ems of
dou­ble space
with your name and ad­dress in the
up­per left hand
ed­i­tors not re­spon­si­ble for
with­out s.a.s.e.
every ef­fort
will be made to
judge all works within 90
af­ter care­ful screen­ing
the fi­nal choices will be made by
Elly May Moody,
gen­eral ed­i­tor in charge.
please en­close ten dol­lars for
each poem sub­mit­ted.
a fi­nal grand prize of
sev­enty-five dol­lars will
be awarded the win­ner
of the
Elly May Moody Golden Poetry
along with a scroll
signed by
Elly May Moody.
there will also be 2nd, 3rd and
4th prize scrolls
also signed by
Elly May Moody.
all de­ci­sions will be
the prize win­ners will
ap­pear in the Spring is­sue of
The Heart of Heaven.
prize win­ners will also re­ceive
one copy of the mag­a­zine
along with
Elly May Moody’s
lat­est col­lec­tion of
The Place Where Winter

3 thoughts on “Three by Bukowski

  1. I posted some Bukowski not too long ago…he’s so good for an an­gered soul. And I have to say, I give Modest Mouse a lit­tle credit for forc­ing him out there into the light of the masses.

  2. Modest Mouse weren’t the first pop band. There’s a Chili Peppers lyric that goes:
    “Sitting on the porch
    Cause I lost my house key
    Pick up a book
    I read Buckowski”

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