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Charles Bukowski

The History Of One Tough Motherfucker

he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and terrorized a white cross-eyed tailless cat I took him in and fed him and

The Shower

we like to shower afterwards (I like the water hotter than she) and her face is always soft and peaceful and she’ll wash me first

So You Want To Be A Writer

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

Yes Yes

when God created love he didn’t help most when God created dogs He didn’t help dogs when God created plants that was average when God

Edgar Allan Poe

Ulalume

The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crispéd and sere— The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in

To The River

Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow Of crystal, wandering water, Thou art an emblem of the glow Of beauty- the unhidden heart- The playful

To The Lake

In spring of youth it was my lot To haunt of the wide world a spot The which I could not love the less- So

To One In Paradise

Thou wast all that to me, love, For which my soul did pine- A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine,

Rabindranath Tagore

Where The Mind Is Without Fear

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high Where knowledge is free Where the world has not been broken up into

When Day Is Done

If the day is done, if birds sing no more, if the wind has flagged tired, then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me,

Waiting

The song I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time

Vocation

When the gong sounds ten in the morning and I walk to school by our lane. Every day I meet the hawker crying, “Bangles, crystal

Rumi

The Ship Sunk In Love

Should Love’s heart rejoice unless I burn? For my heart is Love’s dwelling. If You will burn Your house, burn it, Love! Who will say,

The Interest Without The Capital

The lover’s food is the love of the bread; no bread need be at hand: no one who is sincere in his love is a

Stay Close, My Heart

Stay close, my heart, to the one who knows your ways; Come into the shade of the tree that allays has fresh flowers. Don’t stroll

Love is The Master

Love is the One who masters all things; I am mastered totally by Love. By my passion of love for Love I have ground sweet

William Butler Yeats

Summer And Spring

We sat under an old thorn-tree And talked away the night, Told all that had been said or done Since first we saw the light,

The Ballad Of Father Gilligan

The old priest Peter Gilligan Was weary night and day For half his flock were in their beds Or under green sods lay. Once, while

The Empty Cup

A crazy man that found a cup, When all but dead of thirst, Hardly dared to wet his mouth Imagining, moon-accursed, That another mouthful And

The Death Of The Hare

I have pointed out the yelling pack, The hare leap to the wood, And when I pass a compliment Rejoice as lover should At the

Dylan Thomas

Ballad Of The Long-Legged Bait

The bows glided down, and the coast Blackened with birds took a last look At his thrashing hair and whale-blue eye; The trodden town rang

Elegy

Too proud to die; broken and blind he died The darkest way, and did not turn away, A cold kind man brave in his narrow

Ears In The Turrets Hear

Ears in the turrets hear Hands grumble on the door, Eyes in the gables see The fingers at the locks. Shall I unbolt or stay

How Shall My Animal

How shall my animal Whose wizard shape I trace in the cavernous skull, Vessel of abscesses and exultation’s shell, Endure burial under the spelling wall,

Sylvia Plath

Whatever You Say Say Nothing

I I’m writing this just after an encounter With an English journalist in search of ‘views On the Irish thing’. I’m back in winter Quarters

Valediction

Lady with the frilled blouse And simple tartan skirt, Since you have left the house Its emptiness has hurt All thought. In your presence Time

The Otter

When you plunged The light of Tuscany wavered And swung through the pool From top to bottom. I loved your wet head and smashing crawl,

Requiem

When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the

T. S. Eliot

Whispers Of Immortality

Webster was much possessed by death And saw the skull beneath the skin; And breastless creatures under ground Leaned backward with a lipless grin. Daffodil

To Walter de la Mare

The children who explored the brook and found A desert island with a sandy cove (A hiding place, but very dangerous ground, For here the

The Waste Land

Part 1 – Burial of the Dead April is the cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull

The Song Of The Jellicles

Jellicle Cats come out tonight, Jellicle Cats come one come all: The Jellicle Moon is shining bright— Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball. Jellicle Cats

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