Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski
Henry Charles Bukowskiwas an American poet, novelist, and short story writer...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth16 August 1920
CityAndernach, Germany
CountryUnited States of America
father luck would-be
Bad luck for the young poet would be a rich father, an early marriage, an early success or the ability to do anything well.
feel-good luck red
I've learned to feel good when I feel good. it's better to be driven around in a red porsche than to own one. the luck of the fool is inviolate.
new-york luck old-new-york
In New York you've got to have all the luck.
men lucky mets
I never met another man I'd rather be. And even if that's a delusion, it's a lucky one.
people lucky ugly
Beauty is nothing, beauty won’t stay. You don’t know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you, you know it’s for something else.
lucky
In a more universal sense, we only get one thing. You know...a head stone if we're lucky; if not, green grass.
book luck impossible
a good book can make an almost impossible existence, liveable ( from 'the luck of the word' )
guy lucky blame
I can't blame her. but wonder why she's here with me? where are the other guys? how can you be lucky? having someone the others have abandoned?
waiting luck sometimes
Sometimes there's luck, When there is you stock up on it and wait for the other times
moral human-experience grounded
Morals were restrictive, but they were grounded on human experience.
men never-trust never-trust-a-man
Never trust a man in a jumpsuit
lovers what-you-love all-things
Find what you love and let it kill you. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover.
wine two together
I was fairly poor but most of my money went for wine and classical music. I loved to mix the two together.
art mean thinking
I should think that many of our poets, the honest ones, will confess to having no manifesto. It is a painful confession but the art of poetry carries its own powers without having to break them down into critical listings. I do not mean that poetry should be raffish and irresponsible clown tossing off words into the void. But the very feeling of a good poem carries its own reason for being... Art is its own excuse, and it’s either Art or it’s something else. It’s either a poem or a piece of cheese.