#charles bukowski

elsantoacrata:

Nosotros, que escribimos la poesía de la Vida, muchos de nosotros estamos muy cansados, tristes y hartos y casi derrotados (aunque no del todo). Sin embargo, aún sabemos que no nos hace falta que Dios sea Divino, que no necesitamos versos de jardín para ser Salvados, que no necesitamos la Guerra para ser Libres, que no necesitamos ningún Creelys que admirar, que no necesitamos Ginsbergs que se desmoronan para convertirse en monstruos vociferantes, pero quizás sí necesitamos lagrimillas por todas las chicas encantadoras que envejecieron, la cerveza derramada, las peleas en el patio delantero por nada salvo la ebriedad de nuestro triste amor. Defiendo en verdad nuestra poesía, nosotros los vivos de la Generación Amontonada, en verdad defiendo nuestra poesía y nuestro derecho a escribirla. Sin traje. Sin una revista objeto de una redada policial por “obscena”. Sin perder un empleo pusilánime. Haced el favor de entender que no defiendo que nada de lo que escribo sea inmortal; no reclamo un preciosismo especial; sin embargo, todo es bastante precioso: cuando me pongo los zapatos sólo veo 2 pies ahí abajo.

.- Charles Bukowski

“Desidero tanto ciò che non è qui e non so dove altro andare.”

—Charles Bukowski

relatablepoetryandquotes:

“Real loneliness is not necessarily limited to when you are alone.”

-Charles Bukowski

—Eres un pobre hombre que no puedes sostenerte ni por ti mismo— dijo con esa seguridad desbordada de soberbia.

El orgullo no dejó que sus afiladas palabras llegarán más profundo. Digo ¡No me conoce! no sabe nada de mi. Pero ahora, al mirar las estrellas y sentir el frío de la madrugada, esa que te invita a abrazar una pila de cartón de la acera en la calle 25. Escucho un susurro con el tono de su voz, diciendo que quizá tiene la maldita razón.

Y de pana no he dejado de intentarlo, y aunque aún no he tenido la oportunidad de afrontar una vida a lo Bukowski. Sé, con toda la seguridad de mi pobre soberbia, que al igual que él, no mendigare ni una moneda.

Y luego la voz me abofetea: “ya lo estás haciendo idiota”. Entonces solo queda el silencio, y un ligero zumbido de gotas en los ojos. Gotas orgullosas que no caen.

Valorando lo que es importante…

Estarás solo con los dioses y las noches arderán con fuego. Cabalgarás en la vida hacia la risa perfecta. Es la única pelea que vale la pena.

Charles Bukowski

Algunos pierden la mente y se vuelven alma, locos. Algunos pierden el alma y se convierten en mente, intelectuales. Algunos pierden ambos y son aceptados.

Charles Bukowski

Casi siempre, lo mejor de la vida consiste en no hacer nada en absoluto, en pasar el tiempo reflexionando.

Charles Bukowski

La soledad real no se limita necesariamente a cuando estás solo.

Charles Bukowski

Nuevo día, nuevo comienzo

beyondgenre:

I’ve always liked quiet people: you never know if they are dancing in a daydream or if they’re carrying the weight of the world.

-John Green, Looking For Alaska.

40yroldgoth would invite Hunter S. Thompson, Carl Sagan and Charles Bukowski.

candieaftersunsetwould choose Pochaontas, Jim Morrison & George RR Martin for a weed party in the hills of Tuscany.

redheadedfemme would want “the most devout of the Popes, Stephen Hawking, and Socrates at a party talking theology and philosophy.”

phallusifer9says,

I would invite Varg, Euronymous and Dead just to listen to them bicker. 

I hope I can magickally understand them tho, because my Swedish isn’t -that great, and my Norwegian is near to nonexistent. 

I’d probably serve sushi at this dinner just to see if they can figure it out. I’m sure at some point Varg’s chopsticks will need to be taken from him, lest he try to stick them in Euro’s eyesockets and lobotomise him like that guy did in Session 9.

Dead would eat the sushi, not because he necessarily liked it, but because he’d hope eating something raw would gross the other two out.

pink-absinthesays,

I’d invite Sarah Kane (playwright), Rachel McKibbens (performance poet) and Jonna Lee (swedish musician) to a whiskey and Pictionary party because, odd and interesting as they are, they’d have the strangest ways of drawing things I’m sure. Also, when drunk later we could get into heated discussions about anything and everything, Kane brings the intellectual viscosity, McKibbens the emotional sucker-punch and Lee the creative originality. One would leave inspired for life.

Let me know if I missed anyone’s responses. Sometimes reblogs fail to show up in the notes, or messages are not received.

Photo: A garden party given by Governor Rawson for the Officers of the American Fleet at Cranbrook, Sydney, 1908.

everybody was nudging, inching, cheating for some insignificant advantage, the lie was the weapon and the plot was empty, darkness was the dictator. cautiously, i allowed myself to feel good at times. i found moments of peace in cheap rooms, just staring at the knobs of some dresser, or listening to the rain in the dark.

i could never accept life as it was, i could never gobble down all its poisons. but there were parts, tenuous magic parts, open for the asking.

the whole world is at the throat of the world, everybody feels angry, short-changed, cheated, everybody is despondent, disillusioned. i welcomed shots of peace, tattered shards of happiness.

i saw the mailman, honked, he waved back at me.

- let it enfold you, charles bukowski (extracts stylized into prose)

see this on instagram!

When Leo Tolstoy said “Is anything - not even happiness but just not torment - possible?” And Charles Bukowski said “We don’t even ask happiness, just a little less pain.”

mirrored

If it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
If you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
If you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
If you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
If you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
If it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
If you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
If you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
If it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

If you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

“If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery–isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.”

Charles Bukowski, Factotum

https://bookshop.org/a/12010/9780876852637

..and when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want, what do you call it, freedom or loneliness?

~Charles Bukowski

Quando sono in mezzo alla gente sono a disagio.

Parlano e hanno un entusiasmo che non fa parte di me.

Charles Bukowski

brilliantlybeloved:

ilsentierodellamore:

And if you have the ability to love, love yourself first.

- Charles Bukowski.

So tempted to read his book every time his quotes pops up but I read the description in a bookstore and always put the book back on the shelves