Charles Bukowski - Farewell, foolish objects

[@thedon8223]

That was really good F'in love this guy

[@melaniemackenziebotha5405]

I'll buy a French horn and a tame eagle... I will read about Dylan and DH until my eyes fall out of my head... " ...I love this man's poetry! Damn!

[@ThaSoloist]

eagle meat

[@nemesis534]

He was an angel

[@helenclare1207]

Agreed.

[@johnbroadway4196]

Charles Had nothing but the working Man truth.

[@quantumastrologer5599]

They don't make poets like this anymore...

[@ouderland]

i luv this old man.

[@travisroth670]

Holy fuck! this is hiphop before hiphop punk before punk! Shelley on weed & life in raw!!!!!

[@ronlafferty61]

Epic Bukowski Great reading

[@hippydippy]

Just an incredible "Thought of Consciousness"... Another tortured artist.

[@danandersen813]

life is who gets the best feeling, and for the most time possible, often it's bout who gets laid the best

[@danandersen813]

misery makes good poems, I think

[@readmelancholystrumpetmaster]

I swear, I think this is his best poem ever, even better than "Dinosauria We."

[@cdream5414]

"another puke being born" --- how true

[@gordonm7038]

One of his best.

[@theonondaga]

miss you dearly hank

[@jonnylevy1181]

Hmm mister Charles thanks for convincing me it’s ok to be crazy after all 😂

[@SupernovaFilms23]

Love is displacing the Bukowskis. But we still exist. Oh yes, We exist. And we are loving now.

[@perulove90]

At times

[@teresaboze69]

All that was wanted, really.

[@eraproductions9923]

bloody genius what truly horrible lives indeed pmsl

[@313Valentine]

the life of a writer is far from glamorous. but in the end...it is the writers best muse. the suffering becomes orchestrated, the tones manipulated through past feelings.

[@mrmtn37]

That Chinaski his writing is a helluva Paris

[@PreviouslyUnseen]

The man.

[@erikzetterstrom1521]

Angelic warrior

[@ThexHoneyBadger]

BIM BIM BIM

[@stellaercolani3810]

Some of the best artists were/are addicts.

[@ChilliCheezdog]

How did he drink so much and write so much and still make time for the track?

[@alfogel3298]

He usually wrote between 1AM to 6 AM. He was disciplined and dedicated and wrote poems, short stories, letters ( I had a 28 letter correspondence) essays, novels. Paintings. He started to write prolifically from 1955 to the time of his death in 1994-almost 40 years and almost every night. And drank and screwed. You can accomplish quite a lot when you write every day for 40 years. Al

[@ChilliCheezdog]

@@alfogel3298 I became a fan in 1993. I like to think my investment in his writing bought him a beer before he passed. Hank is my guru. He's always there for me. What did he leave you with, Al? What I mean to say... Was there a single message that came through to you from his corresponence?

[@rajbhattacharya4427]

It's an internal impetus. If you have to try, you're not cut for the gig. It's a drive that doesn't require profit or praise to need to fulfill oneself.

[@justinedse3314]

@@alfogel3298 Wait, are you implying that you sent letters back and forth with Bukowski?

[@peterlloyd93]

SalParadise1947 I have your comment on the grocery store written on a piece of paper somewhere but I can't remember how it got there. Is it a Bukowski quote ? Been wondering where it came from.

[@INNO222]

HANKY-PANKY!

[@NORMLduder]

4:11 perfect sunday

[@brasero20000]

Where is it taken from ? Is there a long version of this lecture?

[@wapartist]

Gotta have a French Horn

[@horsedfedbuffalo25]

oh there is

[@drewwechsler7860]

Enoch. Lost prophet. Reincarnation of Job.

[@rosafiammante5027]

Went to the sky in flesh and bones like Mary did.

[@GreyOatmeal]

Go get the meat Buk

[@Thel0wsandhighs]

I have lain in bed all day but I have written one poem and I am up now looking out the window and like a novelist might say drunk: the clouds are coming at me like scullery maids with dishpans in their hands- something that holds gritty dirty water. but I am a drunken non-novelist but in clear condition now here sits the bottle of beer and I am warmly thinking in a kind of foam-shaped idle fancy working closely but all I can stoke up are squares and circles which do not fit; so messeigneurs I will tell you the truth: again (in bed) I read another article on D. Thomas & some day I will get lucky and sit around and own a French horn and a tame eagle and I will sit on the porch all day a white porch always in the sun one of those white porches with green vines all around, and I will read about Dylan and D.H. until my eyes fall out of my head for eagle meat and I will play the French horn blind. but even now it gets darker the evening thing into night the bones down here the stars up there somebody rattling the springs in Denver so another pewker can be born. I think everything is a sheet of sun and the best of everything is myself walking through it wondering about the pure nerve of the life-thing going on: after the jails the hospitals the factories the good dogs the brainless butterflies. but now I am back at the window there is an opera on the radio and a woman sits in a chair to my left saying over and over again: BRATCH BRATSHT BRAATCHT! and she is holding a book in her hand: How to Learn Russian Easily. but there is really nothing you can do easily: live or die or accept fame or money or defeat, it’s all hard. the opera says this, the dead birds the dead countries the dead loves the man shot because somebody thought it was an elk the elk shot because somebody thought it was an elk. all the pure nerve of going on this woman wanting to speak Russian myself wanting to get drunk but we need something to eat. GRIND CAT GRIND MEAT says the woman in Russian so I figure she’s hungry, we haven’t eaten in a couple of hours. CLAM BAYONET TURKEY PORK AND PORK she says, and I walk over and put on my pants and I am going out to get something. the forests are far away and I am no good with the bow and arrow and somebody signs on the radio: ”farewell, foolish objects.” and all I can do is walk into a grocery store and pull out a wallet and hope that it’s loaded. and this is about how I waste my Sundays. the rest of the week gets better because there is somebody telling me what to do and although it seems madness almost everybody is doing it whatever it is. so now if you will excuse me (she is eating an orange now) I will put on my shoes and shirt and get out of here-it’ll be better for all of us.}

[@rolfkempf]

Took me many years to discover I was not Bukowski; not for the lack of trying. Probably a good thing, but sometimes I'm not so sure.

[@cassiusdio1138]

just suffer more.. make a zen pursuit of the acceptance and appreciate of pain

[@tothejazz4828]

foolish objix...

[@admiralgoodboy]

Meh

[@panatypical]

I'd like him better if he didn't drink. Alcohol is such a shitty drug.

[@coreycox2345]

It seems such an integral part of him. I love some of his work, but he would not have been much fun to live with.

[@jonnylevy1181]

@@coreycox2345I don’t disagree but what if he replaced alcohol with ketamine. A whole different animal!! But still interesting 🤨 and therapeutic too. Albeit not without physical threats. ❤. Not advocating just throwing the idea out there 🎉