If you’re going to try, go all the
way.
otherwise, don’t even start.
if you’re going to try, go all the
way.
this could mean losing girlfriends,
wives, relatives, jobs and
maybe your mind.
go all the way.
it could mean not eating for 3 or 4 days.
it could mean freezing on a
park bench.
it could mean jail,
it could mean derision,
mockery,
isolation.
isolation is the gift,
all others are a test of your
endurance, of
how much you really want to
do it.
and you’ll do it
despite rejection and the worst odds
and it will be better than
anything else
you can imagine.
if you’re going to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like
that.
you will be alone with the gods
and the nights will flame with
fire.
do it, do it, do it.
do it.
all the way.
all the way.
you will ride life straight to
perfect laughter, its
the only good fight
there is.
–
And I’m doing it
Enduring the long distance between us
Facing myself when there’s silence and darkness
Working while loosing my passion for it
Living in a city that left me long ago
Pushing time forward
Trying to live my dream
Holding my future closeby
Reading Wilde’s words
And still smiling
Because
I’m doing it!
*********************************************************************
Filed under: Charles Bukowski, Literature, Poetry
damn good poem ain’t it ?
Yes, damn good. I have a paper copy of it near my computer
“you will be alone with the god’s
and the night’s will flame with fire”
each and every time i read this poem
a half smile grace’s my cheek
and my heart beat’s just a little bit faster…
cheer’s!
Hi James, nice to know that you appreciate the poem as much as I do!
Cheers!
Charles Bukowski is a genius.
Hi Paul, in reply to your comment I add another poem written by Charles Bukowski, which comes to me after having opened one of his books by chance.
“The powers that be”
there was a crowd at this dinner.
they were all telling jokes of
one sort or another,
some of them were professional
actors, directors of note, writers,
and it gave me a little
tingle to be with such talented
humans.
there was a lull, finally,
and I began telling about something
that was not a joke.
about something that happened to me.
I mean, I wasn’t serious but at the
same time I was serious,
trying to explain what
had occured, about
something that might occur
unexpectedly in any man’s life,
something to be understood,
something to cherish.
I guess it was
a rather philosophical story
informed by decades of
my living life out.
then, I was finished.
there was silence.
nobody agreed or disagreed.
and then, at once, they all began
again
chatting about
little happenings,
the waiter appeared and
disappeared,
desserts and libations,
further in-jokes and out-jokes,
the candles flickered in their
glass enclosures,
eyes locked and unlocked,
lips opened,
mouths smiled, hands
gestured,
these were the talented minds that
informed our way,
these were the talented minds that
informed their way.
I was sitting with talented
shit.
Bye,
Pamela