Charles Bukowski

You understand, we just don't fuck with truth.

I write poetry, worry, smile,laughsleepcontinue for a whilejust like most of usjust like all of us;sometimes I want to hug allMankind on earthand say,god damn all this that they've brought down on us,we are brave and goodeven though we are selfishand kill each other andkill ourselves,we are the peopleborn to kill and die and weep in dark roomsand love in dark rooms,and wait, andwait and wait and wait.we are the people.we are nothingmore.

I write poetry, worry, smile,laughsleepcontinue for a whilejust like most of usjust like all of us;sometimes I want to hug allMankind on earthand say,god damn all this that they've brought down upon us,we are brave and goodeven though we are selfishand kill each other andkill ourselves,we are the peopleborn to kill and die and weep in dark roomsand love in dark rooms,and wait, andwait and wait and wait.we are the people.we are nothingmore.

Something else is hurting you - that__ why you need pot or whiskey, or whips and rubber suits, or screaming music turned so fucking loud you can__ think.

the impossibility of being humanall too humanthis breathingin and outout and inthese punksthese cowardsthese championsthese mad dogs of glorymoving this little bit of light towardusimpossibly.

People were usually much better in their letters than in reality. They were much like poets in this way.

Why did I come here? I thought. Why is it always only a matter of choosing between something bad and something worse?

Are there good governments and bad governments? No, there are only bad governments and worse governments.

The worst thing for a writer is to know another writer, and worse than that, to know a number of other writers. Like flies on the same turd.

People don't need love. What they need is success in one form or another. It can be love but it needn't be.

I know a womanwho keeps buying puzzleschinesepuzzlesblockswirespieces that finally fitinto some order.she works it outmathmaticallyshe solves all herpuzzleslives down by the seaputs sugar out for the antsand believesultimatelyin a better world.her hair is whiteshe seldom combs ither teeth are snaggledand she wears loose shapelesscoveralls over a body mostwomen would wish they had.for many years she irritated mewith what I considered hereccentricities-like soaking eggshells in water(to feed the plants so thatthey'd get calcium).but finally when I think of herlifeand compare it to other livesmore dazzling, originaland beautifulI realize that she has hurt fewerpeople than anybody I know(and by hurt I simply mean hurt).she has had some terrible times,times when maybe I should havehelped her morefor she is the mother of my onlychildand we were once great lovers,but she has come throughlike I saidshe has hurt fewer people thananybody I know,and if you look at it like that,well,she has created a better world.she has won.Frances, this poem is foryou.

my 6 foot goddessmakes me laughthe laughter of the mutilatedwho still needlove...she has saved mefrom everything that isnot here

I went to the kitchen and felt-up the turkey.

the lies of centuries, the lies of love,the lies of Socrates and Blake and Christwill be your bedmates and tombstonesin a death that will never end.

as the shadows assumeshapesI fight the slowretreatnowmy once-promisedwindlingdwindlingnowlighting new cigarettespouring moredrinksit has been a beautifulfightstillis.

There may not be a hell, but those who judge may create one. I think people are over-taught. They are over-taught everything. You have to find out by what happens to you, how you will react. I__l have to use a strange term here_ __ood._ I don__ know where it comes from, but I feel that there__ an ultimate strain of goodness born in each of us. I don__ believe in God, but I believe in this __oodness_ like a tube running through our bodies. It can be nurtured. It__ always magic, when on a freeway packed with traffic, a stranger makes room for you to change lanes_ it gives you hope.

hate contains truth. beauty is a facade.

love needs too much help, he said.hate takes care of itself.