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Just got a bunch of Charles Bukowski poetry books from a friend who is moving to the other side of the country. One of them is You Get So Alone At Times That It Just Makes Sense. Here’s one poem from the book that is a particular favorite. In it, Bukowski ponders on the impossibility of pleasing people who might have an opinion on how you’re living, and let’s face it, it seems as if everyone has an opinion on how other people live. A solid reminder to pay them no mind.
Bukowski also contends with living up to the legacy he created, but makes it clear he’s not interested in living for others, in real life or in his work. This unwillingness to perform for others to that extent probably saved his life. Far too many have gone down the road of an inability to separate their true selves with the image the public has of them and not only don’t grow but stagnate in the worst way. Thankfully Bukowski avoided that fate.
for the concerned:, by Charles Bukowski
if you get married they think you’re
finished
and if you’re without a woman they think you’re
incomplete.
a large portion of my readers want me to
keep writing about bedding down with madwomen and
streetwalkers –
also, about being in jails and hospitals, or
starving or
puking my guts
out.
I agree that complacency hardly engenders an
immortal literature
but neither does
repetition.
for those readers now
sick at heart
believing that I’m a contented
man –
please have some
cheer: agony sometimes changes
form
but
it never ceases for
anybody.
The poem “for the concerned:” is in the Charles Bukowski poetry collection You Get So Alone At Times That It Just Makes Sense. Click the image for more information.
