Charles Bukowski Art

[romanticnihilists]

You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense by Charles Bukowski  

[innerdarkexpressions]

There isn’t much there at the moment, I’ve felt lost for months. I grip on, hold tight but then I slip again. I dream of faces but they’re not familiar. I dream of scents on shirts but they’re not yours. I feel safe and then I feel pushed back again, why do you do this to me? There is no escape. You have the bottom of a whiskey bottle, I have my paper and pen but it consumes me. I am stuck, I’m tired and I’m tied to you. You wonder why the thought of marriage makes me nauseas, well this is why! You say “you used to be a free soul, so wild and happy! What happened to you? ” well can’t you see… I was, I have been and now I’m locked from head to toe with nowhere to go. That time has passed, my eyes are heavy, my heart is weak, my arms have grown tired and my mouth can’t speak. I’m locked in this cage, and it’s crushing me.

J. Bartholomew

[psalmofmyself-deactivated201612]

I have gotten so used to melancholia that I greet it like an old friend.

Charles Bukowski, From Melancholia (via psalmofmyself)

[hannahunderscorefr-deactivated2]

The Bukowski Tapes, 1987

[feanorian]

Buk, by Abe Frajndlich, 1985

[bluebird-girlll]

Raw with love. #bukowski

[bluebird-girlll]

Midnight poetry. #bukowski

[ryantippery]

The flesh covers the bone  and they put a mind  in there and  sometimes a soul,  and the women break  vases against the walls  and the men drink too  much  and nobody finds the  one  but keep  looking  crawling in and out  of beds.  flesh covers  the bone and the  flesh searches  for more than  flesh.   there’s no chance  at all:  we are all trapped  by a singular  fate.   nobody ever finds  the one.   the city dumps fill  the junkyards fill  the madhouses fill  the hospitals fill  the graveyards fill  nothing else  fills.

Charles Bukowski | Alone With Everybody (via ryantippery)

[prosaversoearte]

Bukowski

[wordsnquotes]

We are like roses that have never bothered to bloom when we should have bloomed and it is as if the sun has become disgusted with waiting.

Charles Bukowski (via wordsnquotes)

[maisaltoquebombas]

Charles Bukowski (1920 - 1994)

[beatbopped-deactivated20160610]

[jackkerrouac]

Ezra Pound, Allen Ginsberg, and Fernanda Pivano, Portofino, Italy, September 23, 1967. Pivano, Allen’s friend and Italian translator, drove Allen and her husband Ettore Sottsass down for the day from Milan for the meeting in Rapallo, that was arranged by Olga Rudge.  Pound  for most part remained entirely silent except for an occasional “no” to Allen’s endless questions. After lunch they continued for coffee along the neighboring waterfront at Portofino where this photo was snapped. Photo c. Ettore Sottsass.

[arabamolsamontgiymezdim]

Albert Camus

Ernest Hemingway

John Fante and his Los Angeles’ kitty. (Bukowski’s father..joke joke..)

No one could make Charles Bukowski smile like his kitty.

Mark Twain shooting pool with his kitty. They get their hair done in the same place.

dipnot: dünya kediler günü ve gecesi namına saygı ve sevgilerle..amen..

[weareourowndevils]

We don’t even ask for happiness, just a little less pain.”

Charles Bukowski (via weareourowndevils)

[shisasan]

Understand me. I’m not like an ordinary world. I have my madness, I live in another dimension and I do not have time for things that have no soul.

Charles Bukowski (via classykittenn)

[nuretmen]

“there are worse things than being alone but it often takes decades to realize this and most often when you do it’s too late and there’s nothing worse than too late” ― Charles Bukowski

© Nur Uretmen