Buried beneath the
raw flesh of every scar
there lies a story, a veiled
truth manifested in the physical form.
If you listen
close enough they will
whisper, confessing our sins,
our triumphs, our follies and, even,
our secrets.
Bukowski | Poems that Suck
Bukowski once said,
love was like the early
morning fog
that burns
away
with
the
sun.
.
What he didn’t say was,
that the fog would
slither into your
bones, leaving
you
chilled
long
after.
Tweet Tweet | Poems that Suck
Shit poetry is a lot like Twitter,
expect that with Twitter
you only have 140 characters
to say
nothing at all.
Hell Hath No Fury | Poems that Suck
Nothing warms the broken heart quite like the fires of hatred.
Judas | Poems that Suck
I'm tired -- tired of being tired, of feeling like my body is held down by anchors sunk to unfathomable depths, leaving me struggling for air, for energy. I'm tired -- of waking up to feel like going back to sleep, where my body is whole and full of life. I'm tired -- of running interference with exhaustion, and mitigating it with so much coffee that my piss stinks of it. I'm fucking tired -- the spirit is willing, is full of fire and passion, but this Judas of a body is weak.
Awesome! | Life Updates
Early this morning, I got the nod that I had won 1st place in the Anita McAndrews Poets for Human Rights Contest!
I can’t tell you how good that feels… and immediately after I got a rejection from a lit mag! 🙂
I feel it’s like the universe is keeping my ego in check 🙂
Ok writer friends, tell me what your success this month have been! Have you been published? Where at?
1-800-Dial a Piece | Poems that Suck
My new lover called today,
purring obscenities in my ear
like a fat cat about to get its fill
on something juicy.
In my excitement to get
it in, I decided to Nair,
rather than shave my thick,
auburn, pubic hair.
We were naked an hour later,
when he recoiled in horror.
I turned my head to look, then
had to explain that it was a chemical
burn and not, in fact, Herpes.
Crayola Crayons | Poems that Suck
There’s always something whimsical,
nostalgic, reassuring, even,
about the smell of
Crayola Crayons.
.
It brings me back to a time
of pure joy, and innocence.
.
It’s also the reason why
I liked to fuck
in his car
so often.
Buk 100 | Life Updates
With great hootin’ and hollerin’ and titties-a-floppin’, I’m excited to say that I’ve been included in Newington Blue Press’ Buk 100 Vol. 2!
I am joined by many INCREDIBLE writers such as:
The man, himself, Charles Bukowski, Ad Winans, Abel Debritto, Alan Catlin, Alexander Limarev, Alicia Mathias, Amy Barry, Anggo Genorga, Brian Whitmore, Bryn Fortey, Catfish McDaris, Cedric Barnaud, Clint Lukas (with Marina Bukowski), Christiane Nebel, Misty Illustrations, Dan Provost, Dana St. Mary, Daniel W. Wright, Danny Koslowski, Dracu Laruen, Eric Robert, Nolan Gabor, Gyukics Giovanni Manginate, Henry Hughs, Jack Henry, Ipshita Chakraborty, Jenn Hall, Joan Jobe – Smith, John Guzlowski, Leon Joron, Chava Silberstein, M. Mrazfield, Mark Cramer, Matthew Cooper, Matt Dennison, Matt Dukes Jordan, Matt Micheli, Melissa Todd, Michael D. Amitin, Michael D. Meloan, Monica Mastrantoni, Niles Reddick, Opher Goodwin, Ron Hard, Ronald P. Bremner, Shannon Laws, Ted Giffen, Tobe Damit, Tohm Bakelas, Westley Heine, Yi Jung, Zachary Guadamour, pLopLop, Paul Maher Jr., Sid Yiddish, Jami Cassady, Brian Rihlmann, Falko Henning, Paul Tanner, Bradford Middelton, Bruce Hodder, The Drunken Odyssey with John King, Hillary King, Januz Zalewski, Jay Rohr, John Greiner, John Patrick Robbins, Karol Neilson, Miriam Sagan, RP Verlaine, Wayne F. Burke, John Castellenas, Joe Callanan, Shelby Snow, and many, many more.
The aim is to print and publish this second volume before Christmas! The cost is 15,00 € (due to the larger volume of the Chapbook they slightly raised the price) plus 5,00 € shipping within Europe. Overseas shipping is 10,00 €.
Way of payment: www.paypal.me/charlesbukowski
Inquire at press@newington.blue
Trust me… I already got mine, cuz I know this one is going to sell out so fast it’ll burn the press up!
All I Want for X Mas | Poems that Suck
Dear Santa,
All I want for Christmas is
The Collected Works of Charles Bukowski,
A Jesus Christ Superstar tank top
(preferably in Medium)
and a guy that will let me fuck him up the ass.
(also, preferably in Medium)
Poems that Suck 