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At The Last Minute |
As The Fog Rolls In |
Wounded heart New York 9/11 |
My Photos:My Garden & Travels |
Genesis & Evolution of A Blog/Blogger |
AMAZED by Gordon Coombes |
My POETRY 'As If...' |
Poems For Sale : For Charles ( Hank ) Bukowski |
Earthbound angel #5 Sensuous Angel or the Rose Of Sharon |
For Walt Whitman |
PHONY PROPHETS & Visions Of THE ANCIENT SAGE |
Homage to H.P. Lovecraft |
MY POETRY:NIGHT OF A THOUSAND HOURS |
Inside The Jumble Jar : Sharing Our Dreams & Soundings |
Being a Child of Raging Fire in the Shadow of Towering Smokestacks |
POEM FOR ROBERT BURNS : BLOOD FEUD |
My Poetry: Two Variations on Hope And Tragedy |
LAO TSU, CRIMSON LOTUS BLOSSOMS ,The Blank Slate |
Listen To This...No. 1 & No. 2 |
INNER CHILD |
REQUIEM : AN EPIC FOR OUR TIME: |
Dreaming Café Apollinaire |
Headless Buddhas |
The Masks We Wear |
All The Poets Are Gone |
Dreaming Love |
KADDISH VARIATIONS |
Visions of the Subterranean in the Run-down Rooming-house of the Soul |
Tales From Café Apollinaire: Variations on Distilled Dreams |
Dharma Bumming/ More Of The Dharma |
More Of The Dharma- Part II |
More Of The Dharma Part III |
Waiting In The Snow |
Buddha and The Blue Horses |
Aphorisms & Haiku II : Stonefish & Tigerlilies |
WISDOM IN A CLUBHOUSE SANDWICH |
Night Visions & Barbed-Wire Encircled World |
No End to Beginnings & Endings |
Ah F... Art... |
Inspiring Quotes Victor Hugo, Jean Paul Sartre. Edvard Munch |
under construction |
Film "GLORY" (1989) & ROBERT LOWELL " FOR THE UNION DEAD "& "SKUNK HOUR" |
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BEAT POETRY & PROSE- JACK KEROUAC,BURROUGHS, BUKOWSKI |
ART:POST-IMPRESSIONISM- Van Gogh, Gauguin, Cezanne, Seurat, Lautrec, Gustav Klimt and Henri Rousseau |
ART: EXPRESSIONISM Edvard Munch, George Grosz,Marc Chagall et al |
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William Blake Poet & Mystic |
BAUDELAIRE & RUMI |
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DADA SURREALIST MADNESS OF Andre Breton, Rene Magritte ,Yves Tanguay, MAX ERNST & MARCEL DUCHAMP |
ART: Frida Kahlo & Diego Rivera |
under construction |
Art Of Goya & Michael Sowa |
Guillaume Apollinaire, SURREALISM & DADA & HANS (JEAN) ARP & HUGO BALL |
EXCERPTS FROM: THE BANQUET YEARS: Guillaume Apollinaire etc. By Roger Shattuck |
Pablo Neruda - " I'LL Explain Some Things " & " Ode To A Book " |
Federico Garcia Lorca ( 1898 -1936 ): " Lament for Ignacio Sanchez Mejias " |
Under Construction |
POETRY & POLITICS from Robert Burns to Robert Lowell to Ginsberg to Ty Gray EL |
Poetry: W. B.Yeats, Pablo Neruda , Dylan Thomas , |
ROBERT BURNS " A MAN's A MAN FOR A' THAT " " SUCH A PARCEL OF ROGUES " & "Scots, wha hae. |
ART: JOSEPH CUSINAMO VIVID SURREALISM ZAZIE |
ART: SURREALISM, RENE MAGRITTE, CHAGALL,MAX ERNST & DALI |
SURREALISM : COMTE LAUTREMONT: SONGS OF MALADOR |
SURREALISM: ANDRE BRETON ON DADA & SURREALISM |
ART: DADA & WAR |
Bukowski 2 |
Film: DRACULA THE SHADOW OF THE VAMPIRE |
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Bukowski :Poems For Sale
by Gordon Coombes
This poem has gone through a number of versions. This version hopefully works best. The poem is in part a result of several
dreams & attempts to capture this dream like quality & feelings of being observing the world as an outsider. It was
originally entitled 'In Search Of Charles Bukowski" as a homage to him but it took on a life of its own. Sometimes we
are taken in directions we did not expect.
The Cafe Apollinaire is mentioned in this poem. The Cafe Apollinaire is the title of a group of poems which I will be
presenting here at a later date. It eventually took on epic proportions but more of this at another time.
Poems for Sale
I search these crowded
glittering neon-dripping streets
where everything is for sale
whores pimps drug-pushers
lawyers & politicians
sell you artful lies
seducing you for your money
your vote of confidence
stroking your ego
giving you a soothing massage
for your enfeebled mind & emaciated soul
all part of the art of seduction
handing you a lie
a bit of New Age bullshit
t.v. & barroom clichés
served up dishes of deep-fried insights
profound fortune-cookie wisdom-
newly arrived slumming pseudo-Bohemians
haven't a clue young men & women
trying to get close to the ground
it's too far down & it can't be done
with a safety net
the middle-aged former accountant explains
how he can live on a dollar a day
though it helps to have a fat bank account
to fall back on just in case
this soul crushing life of hunger & want
for him it's just an experiment
let him try to do it for real-
all those young kids hiding out
in some abandoned building
in the dead of winter
not getting any wiser
just thinner & desperate
believing in nothing at all-
old men in long grey beards
wearing six layers of coats & sweaters
begging to buy a cup of coffee
sitting on stone walls
reading a paper-back
smoking discarded cigarette butts
the sad-eyed woman
saying she's looking for the right man
always finds a guy who steals
what little she has
brags how easy she was
what a loser she is
while the misanthropic writer
claiming he hates everyone
turns sentimental
in the presence of a beautiful woman
acting like everyone's friend
for fear of making a scene
so many sell themselves
for just a few pieces of silver
setting up their wares in the temple courtyards
where I join them to sell
these sharp-twisted-barbs of words
needing food more than virtue-
standing by my stall on the sidewalk
selling my wares
outside the Public Gardens
on a sunny afternoon
'Poems For Sale ' the poster explains
a few verses for a couple of bucks
til someone stops
"Ah poetry, I like poetry
& you are a poet."
"Well... I like to think I am'
several more people gather
pointing their fingers at me
forming a Greek Chorus
raising their voices
accusing calling out
labeling my crime
"You've got me " I answer
"I am a poet in the living flesh
dying by the hour."
they pick up pieces of paper
rip them up throwing them into the air
like snow-flakes falling
a ticker-tape parade
I shake my head complaining
of my lack of sales to the Tarot card reader
all dressed in black
to compliment her long black hair
these other poor souls selling their wares
their labours of love their inspiration
the photographer in the black beret
photos of dead cars & groups of scarecrows
dancing round a bonfire
works of art in black & white
the sketch artist with long red hair
drawing people as they would like to be
the big black & grey bearded stone carver
who's always ready for a fight
the woman in a long flowered skirt
who sells little wire animals
they crowd in on me
trying to comfort me
I take my leave-
someone shouts after me
turning around I recognize a fellow-traveller
a writer waiting for a break
working in a laundromat folding clothes
sorting change
washing dishes in some restaurant
peddling stuff on the phone
stacking books at a library
the reward for four or five years
at some college
we head to Café Apollinaire
where after a couple of beers
the world will seem a friendlier place -
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