So, what other poets get you like Bukowski does?
- Thread starter Dzerzhinsk
- Start date
Digney in Burnaby
donkeys live a long time
Ronald Koertge and Lyn Lifshin still write and publish both online and on paper. Right out of those 60s/70s Bukowski days.
Joolz Denby, Paul Verlaine, Emily Dickinson. I also like Old Norse and Old English poetry :)
Of the Beat poets I like...no one! I don't know why. I dodn't even see Buk as a Beat poet like a lot of people do.
Of the Beat poets I like...no one! I don't know why. I dodn't even see Buk as a Beat poet like a lot of people do.
bluebottle
Founding member
yeah, that li po poem is one of my favorites too. wasn't the name of that translator david hinton? that little book is the best i've seen so far of li po's poems (there's a bar in chinatown in sf on grant called li po. i would consider that one my "home bar". it's the only opne i've ever sent a post card to, anyway). also brautigan is great too, i agree - esp. in watermelon sugar. some others who do it for me: pablo neruda, whitman, basho, mary oliver, corrine de winter.
Father Luke
Founding member
William Taylor Jr.
P
postino
Bukowski's subtle, yet powerful. I'd have to say that Pound has something in common with Bukowski. Burroughs also.
Robinson Jeffers.
My favourite poet other than Hank is probably Robinson Jeffers. Especially his stuff during WWII. Like the poem "Be Angry at the Sun"
Be Angry At The Sun
by Robinson Jeffers
That public men publish falsehoods
Is nothing new. That America must accept
Like the historical republics corruption and empire
Has been known for years.
Be angry at the sun for setting
If these things anger you. Watch the wheel slope and turn,
They are all bound on the wheel, these people, those warriors.
This republic, Europe, Asia.
Observe them gesticulating,
Observe them going down. The gang serves lies, the passionate
Man plays his part; the cold passion for truth
Hunts in no pack.
You are not Catullus, you know,
To lampoon these crude sketches of Caesar. You are far
From Dante's feet, but even farther from his dirty
Political hatreds.
Let boys want pleasure, and men
Struggle for power, and women perhaps for fame,
And the servile to serve a Leader and the dupes to be duped.
Yours is not theirs.
Regards
D
My favourite poet other than Hank is probably Robinson Jeffers. Especially his stuff during WWII. Like the poem "Be Angry at the Sun"
Be Angry At The Sun
by Robinson Jeffers
That public men publish falsehoods
Is nothing new. That America must accept
Like the historical republics corruption and empire
Has been known for years.
Be angry at the sun for setting
If these things anger you. Watch the wheel slope and turn,
They are all bound on the wheel, these people, those warriors.
This republic, Europe, Asia.
Observe them gesticulating,
Observe them going down. The gang serves lies, the passionate
Man plays his part; the cold passion for truth
Hunts in no pack.
You are not Catullus, you know,
To lampoon these crude sketches of Caesar. You are far
From Dante's feet, but even farther from his dirty
Political hatreds.
Let boys want pleasure, and men
Struggle for power, and women perhaps for fame,
And the servile to serve a Leader and the dupes to be duped.
Yours is not theirs.
Regards
D
P
postino
I was just thinking that Verlaine gives me that same headrush as when I read Bukowski
Father Luke
Founding member
Christopher Cunningham
There are the guys that Buk gave some praise... Jeffers, Purdy, etc. And he was right about them. I especially like the Jeffers stuff when he's completely given up on humanity. What's that poem where he says Churchill was as bad as Hitler. That must've given his publisher a coronary. I think they waited until Jeffers died to release that one...haha.
The Beats and the hippies never did it for me. I tried some of the guys who get thrown in with Buk (like Corso, Brautigan, Ted Berrigan). Can't do it tho. Buk, for me, was just a working drunk with woman troubles. His sensibilities came from the 1930s. Duking it out behind the bar. None of the flowerpower stuff.
Micheline was ok when he stayed focused.
I like Alan Dugan.
And Gerald Locklin. A good guy.
My fave tho is a drunk from N'awlins named Everette Maddox. Here are some samples...
Approaching the Solstice
Everette Maddox
Canal Street sizzles
like an egg on the grill:
high in the nineties.
Jesus! a man would have to be
crazy, or in his sixth
childhood, to fall in love again
in this town in the summer!
But nobody ever learns
anything -- that's what
tragedy teaches. So
my hottest wish now
rather figures: to get
out of the frying pan
and into the fire
under your cool white dress.
Sense of Decorum in Poverty
Everette Maddox
I put on a shirt
with a couple of
gone buttons and a
pair of pants my wife
hates and walk into
the living room and
sit down in a dull
chair. In this way I
acknowledge nothing's
going on. If I
wanted to really
suffer I could go
lie down in some shit,
but that transgresses
the fine line between
propriety and
masochism. If
I were any kind
of poet I'd go
stick up a Jiffy
Mart or, say the First
Bank of the Cosmic
Imagination.
Then I could buy a
red plaid jacket with
a rooster tie and
stumble out into
the clean autumn air
crowing "Guilty! Life,
I'm your beautiful
man"
The Beats and the hippies never did it for me. I tried some of the guys who get thrown in with Buk (like Corso, Brautigan, Ted Berrigan). Can't do it tho. Buk, for me, was just a working drunk with woman troubles. His sensibilities came from the 1930s. Duking it out behind the bar. None of the flowerpower stuff.
Micheline was ok when he stayed focused.
I like Alan Dugan.
And Gerald Locklin. A good guy.
My fave tho is a drunk from N'awlins named Everette Maddox. Here are some samples...
Approaching the Solstice
Everette Maddox
Canal Street sizzles
like an egg on the grill:
high in the nineties.
Jesus! a man would have to be
crazy, or in his sixth
childhood, to fall in love again
in this town in the summer!
But nobody ever learns
anything -- that's what
tragedy teaches. So
my hottest wish now
rather figures: to get
out of the frying pan
and into the fire
under your cool white dress.
Sense of Decorum in Poverty
Everette Maddox
I put on a shirt
with a couple of
gone buttons and a
pair of pants my wife
hates and walk into
the living room and
sit down in a dull
chair. In this way I
acknowledge nothing's
going on. If I
wanted to really
suffer I could go
lie down in some shit,
but that transgresses
the fine line between
propriety and
masochism. If
I were any kind
of poet I'd go
stick up a Jiffy
Mart or, say the First
Bank of the Cosmic
Imagination.
Then I could buy a
red plaid jacket with
a rooster tie and
stumble out into
the clean autumn air
crowing "Guilty! Life,
I'm your beautiful
man"
Father Luke
Founding member
Al Maserik
Al Maserik gets me like Bukowski does.
Al Maserik gets me like Bukowski does.
Digney in Burnaby
donkeys live a long time
I lose track of poets, find them in used book stores (on the shelf, where else?) and on the web with no visible means of support (the web being just "out there").
Fred Voss made me laugh. Found this on a Leonard Cohen web forum of all places:
Rough Job - Fred Voss
The machinist who tried to kill himself
because he couldn't stop crying like a girl
when he was on PCP;
the machinist holding up the pussy magazine
in front of his face
to be sure everyone knows he's staring at it;
the machinist in a constant rage
because his wife won't give him a blowjob;
the machinist telling everyone how much he hates
the queers on the 2nd tier of the L.A. County Jail;
the machinist who walks around with a tape measure
pulled out to 12 to 15 inches
and held in front of his fly;
the machinist who wears a hat saying 'U.S. Male'
and smokes big cigars
and weightlifts steel bars and arbors
while his machine runs:
being a man in a machine shop
is not easy.
Fred Voss made me laugh. Found this on a Leonard Cohen web forum of all places:
Rough Job - Fred Voss
The machinist who tried to kill himself
because he couldn't stop crying like a girl
when he was on PCP;
the machinist holding up the pussy magazine
in front of his face
to be sure everyone knows he's staring at it;
the machinist in a constant rage
because his wife won't give him a blowjob;
the machinist telling everyone how much he hates
the queers on the 2nd tier of the L.A. County Jail;
the machinist who walks around with a tape measure
pulled out to 12 to 15 inches
and held in front of his fly;
the machinist who wears a hat saying 'U.S. Male'
and smokes big cigars
and weightlifts steel bars and arbors
while his machine runs:
being a man in a machine shop
is not easy.
Ah, right. Forgot to put him on my list. Yes.
Digney in Burnaby
donkeys live a long time
One poem doesn't do it for most. I just remember Voss from various issues of Wormwood Review. Here's a link to some online stuff that appears in UK little mags:
http://www.poetrymagazines.org.uk/search/index.asp?search=voss&sub.x=28&sub.y=11
And the same for Al Masarik (1974 stuff):
http://www.poetrymagazines.org.uk/search/index.asp?search=masarik&sub.x=0&sub.y=0
bp
http://www.poetrymagazines.org.uk/search/index.asp?search=voss&sub.x=28&sub.y=11
And the same for Al Masarik (1974 stuff):
http://www.poetrymagazines.org.uk/search/index.asp?search=masarik&sub.x=0&sub.y=0
bp
I don't know what others like, but I like Al Purdy.
The Dead Poet
I was altered in the placenta
by the dead brother before me
who built a place in the womb
knowing I was coming:
he wrote words on the walls of flesh
painting a woman inside a woman
whispering a faint lullaby
that sings in my blind heart still
The others were lumberjacks
backwoods wrestlers and farmers
their women were meek and mild
nothing of them survives
but an image inside an image
of a cookstove and the kettle boiling
- how else explain myself to myself
where does the song come from?
Now on my wanderings:
at the Alhambra's lyric dazzle
where the Moors built stone poems
a wan white face peering out
- and the shadow in Plato's cave
remembers the small dead one
- at Samarkand in pale blue light
the words came slowly from him
- I recall the music of blood
on the Street of the Silversmiths
Sleep softly spirit of earth
as the days and nights join hands
when everything becomes one thing
wait softly brother
but do not expect it to happen
that great whoop announcing resurrection
expect only a small whisper
of birds nesting and green things growing
and a brief saying of them
and know where the words came from
The Dead Poet
I was altered in the placenta
by the dead brother before me
who built a place in the womb
knowing I was coming:
he wrote words on the walls of flesh
painting a woman inside a woman
whispering a faint lullaby
that sings in my blind heart still
The others were lumberjacks
backwoods wrestlers and farmers
their women were meek and mild
nothing of them survives
but an image inside an image
of a cookstove and the kettle boiling
- how else explain myself to myself
where does the song come from?
Now on my wanderings:
at the Alhambra's lyric dazzle
where the Moors built stone poems
a wan white face peering out
- and the shadow in Plato's cave
remembers the small dead one
- at Samarkand in pale blue light
the words came slowly from him
- I recall the music of blood
on the Street of the Silversmiths
Sleep softly spirit of earth
as the days and nights join hands
when everything becomes one thing
wait softly brother
but do not expect it to happen
that great whoop announcing resurrection
expect only a small whisper
of birds nesting and green things growing
and a brief saying of them
and know where the words came from
Father Luke
Founding member
Todd Moore
W
walkaroundnaked
I went to this guys website and read one poem. Ain't never going back.
He has a blinking/flashing animation figure on the right side of his page. Those things are annoying as hell.
I can't believe this guy, a poet no less, put that on his website. It's a major distraction that alot of people find annoying. Commercial advertisers like Mastercard and Hertz Rent-a-Car love using it in order to distract the reader from the main text with the intention of luring them over to their product. And this guys a chemist? Utterly ridiculous. Ain't never going back to his websiter ever again unless he ditches it.
bospress.net
www.bospress.net
maybe there is a problem with your computer but the animation is not blinking or flashing on my computer. Never has. It does change a bit, but it does not distract me. Also, it is not like a cheap gif that he stole off of the internet.
Still, I don't think that he'll change his website in the hopes that one reader will come back and read his poems.
Bill
Still, I don't think that he'll change his website in the hopes that one reader will come back and read his poems.
Bill
Father Luke
Founding member
this is why magpies shouldn't read poetry. easily distracted by shiny things.
mjp
Founding member
Well you must have read more than one poem if you know he's a chemist.
BILLY CHILDISH - The Bard of Chatham. What a Gent
G
Garret
ROC
It is what it is
Wot a jar of poo.