#the roominghouse madrigals

[pastnotfuture]

"He wants golfballs and glass walls. I want quiet thunder. Our disappointment sits between us"

The Roominghouse Madrigals. Charles Bukowski

[sunsetquotes]

I want so much that is not here and do not know where to go.

Charles Bukowski; The Roominghouse Madrigals

[yourbuckies]

― Charles Bukowski, The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems, 1946-1966

[armoralor]

Shin Hati from Ahsoka ✰ Please Refrain by Robert Polito (x) The Roominghouse Madrigals by Charles Bukowski (x) ✰ reminder that T*RFs can fuck off, only interact if you love trans & nb women ♡

[mysterieuxclairdelune]

-Ned Vizzini, It's Kind of a Funny Story

-Charles Bukowski, The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems

-Heather Davis, The Clearing

[dwellsinparadise]

People are strange: They are constantly angered by trivial things, but on a major matter like totally wasting their lives, they hardly seem to notice.

—Charles Bukowski, The Roominghouse Madrigals

[kiki-de-la-petite-flaque]

The dirty dogs of Egypt stride down my bones

The cat goes home in the morning

And I think of agony when there's little else to do

And there's usually little else to do

Except think the agony might kill us---

But, perhaps, what really saves us from it

Is our being able to luxuriate in it---

Like an old lady putting on a red hat.

Yet my walls are stained where broken glass has pissed its liquor.

I see agony in a box of kitchen soap

And the walls want their flatness to be my flatness

O the dirty dogs of Egypt,

I see flatirons hanging from hooks

The eagle is a canary in the breakfastnook

Eating dry seed and cramped by the dream.

I want so much that is not here and do not know where to go.”

– Charles Bukowski, "The Dogs of Egypt" from The Roominghouse Madrigals, 1988.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

People are strange: They are constantly angered by trivial things, but on a major matter like totally wasting their lives, they hardly seem to notice.

—Charles Bukowski, The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems 1946-1966. I never could get much into Bukowski, but when I lived in Germany in the seventies, I kept running into Bukowski's works—in German—and discovered then that this proud Angeleno was actually a German, born in the wine country around Andernach. And when you think about it, there's a great deal of that German solipsism in him.

[Robert Scott Horton]

[joshuahyslop]

BOOKS

The last 10 books I’ve read:

1. Zen in the Art of Writing - Ray Bradbury Before this I’d only ever read Fahrenheit 451 by Bradbury. I’m not really into sci-fi books. But the photo of him on the book jacket was too good to pass up. He’s smiling, wearing impossibly huge glasses and holding his cat. It made me laugh and I recognized the name so I bought it. I was surprised to find a lot of very solid advice on writing and the approach to any creative endeavour. It was actually a very good little book.

2. Acres & Pains - S.J. Perelman This was random. I found this little book in a used bookstore here in Vancouver - one that I don’t often visit, and was happy to grab it for its $5 price tag. S.J. Perelman was a “humorist”, which, as far as I can understand it, basically means a comedian who knows big words. I would be surprised if David Sedaris did not grow up reading Perelman’s work. It’s very self-deprecating and quite droll. 

3. Selected Poems - William Carlos Williams I’ve been diving deeper into poetry. I don’t know if it’s because I’m in my mid-thirties or what, but I’m finding it more and more enjoyable. I’m still mainly reading Bukowski’s poems when I can find them, but in between I’m picking up classics like this and thoroughly enjoying doing so.

4. A Poetry Handbook - Mary Oliver Mary Oliver is one of my favourite poets and this book is her instruction manual on how to read and write poetry. She recommends other poets to check out, she talks about rhyme scheme and free verse and its origins. It’s a highly educational read for someone who writes for a living but it’s also enjoyable if you just like poetry. Worth checking out.

5. Selected Poems - Antonio Machado This was one of the books recommended in “A Poetry Handbook”. Along with Li Po (whose poetry I had an immensely hard time tracking down) and Jack Gilbert. I knew nothing of Machado when I bought this book and now I know a little bit. The introduction to this book of poems was super helpful, but it’s 67 pages with footnotes and takes about as long to read as the rest of the entire book. One neat aspect was that the left side of every page was the original poem in Spanish, the right side was its translation. I don’t speak Spanish but it was cool to be able to see his intended rhythm. 

6. Invisible Boy - Harrison Mooney I grew up in Abbotsford, aka “Canada’s Bible Belt”: an almost exclusively white community with well over 100 churches. Harrison did too. We were somewhere between childhood acquaintances and childhood friends. We knew each other, I’d been to his house a couple times, but he was two years older than me so we were never super close. His book is about his experience as a Black boy being adopted by a white Christian fundamentalist family. Looking back I see so much of the racism that was prevalent in that town, in our school and in those churches that I did not experience because I’m white. It was an enjoyable book because it’s very well written. It’s very funny and very sad. But it was difficult as well because I knew those people, those places, those institutions, first hand but I was so largely ignorant of his, and so many others, experiences. And, though I can’t relate to the racism he experienced, I can relate to the confusion he felt trying his best to embrace a religion he was indoctrinated into. I can relate to the guilt of not fully believing, but not wanting to let anyone down. I can’t imagine the added burden of experiencing racism daily (even in his own home) and the questions that being adopted would constantly bring up. This is a book not meant to be missed. Do yourself a favour and check it out.

7. The Roominghouse Madrigals - Charles Bukowski This is a selection of his early poetry between the years 1946 and 1966. It’s a classic example of his work and reminded me, yet again, of why I love reading his stuff. I don’t know what it is. Not every poem connects with me, but enough of them do that I can sit and read his poetry for hours. I have.

8. The Fire Next Time - James Baldwin This has been in my stack of “books to read” for months but after reading Harrison’s book and his description of his encounter with this book I grabbed it and dove in. It’s quite a short read, but it’s incredibly powerful. I kept thinking, “Why was I not aware of his writing when I was in high school?” The answer is fairly obvious and, to put it mildly, disappointing. Still, if I was ever a teacher (not bloody likely) and I taught any kind of History or English class, this would be required reading for all my students. 

9. The Inconvenient Indian: A Curious Account of Native People in North America - Thomas King Previously I’d only ever read, “The Truth About Stories” by Thomas King. It’s a short book but I loved it. I’ve been wanting to get to this book for a long time. Finally, after moving cities and having a week off in Mexico, I was able to dive in. It’s a great book - particularly as a Canadian who was never taught anything other than Christian propaganda regarding the Indigenous peoples of North America and their relationship with white colonizers. It was very informative, very disappointing to read and very sad. But I was also inspired by the Indigenous people and their resiliency and moved by their thoughtful and wise approach to nature. I also enjoyed how funny King is. It’s a fantastic book.

10. The Road - Cormac McCarthy There’s not much to say here. I love McCarthy’s writing but, not surprising, this was incredibly sad. Good if you like his stuff, but maybe not the place to start if you’ve never read anything by him before. 

more soon, -joshua

[xray-vex]

the genius of the crowd

the first time i heard this poem, i couldn't stop thinking about it

and haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.

There is enough treachery, hatred, violence, Absurdity in the average human being To supply any given army on any given day.

AND The Best At Murder Are Those Who Preach Against It. And The Best At Hate Are Those Who Preach LOVE AND THE BEST AT WAR --FINALLY--ARE THOSE WHO PREACH PEACE

Those Who Preach GOD NEED God Those Who Preach PEACE Do Not Have Peace. THOSE WHO PREACH LOVE DO NOT HAVE LOVE BEWARE THE PREACHERS Beware The Knowers. Beware Those Who Are ALWAYS READING BOOKS

Beware Those Who Either Detest Poverty Or Are Proud Of It

BEWARE Those Quick To Praise For They Need PRAISE In Return

BEWARE Those Who Are Quick To Censure: They Are Afraid Of What They Do Not Know

Beware Those Who Seek Constant Crowds; They Are Nothing Alone Beware The Average Man The Average Woman BEWARE Their Love

Their Love Is Average, Seeks Average But There Is Genius In Their Hatred There Is Enough Genius In Their Hatred To Kill You, To Kill Anybody.

Not Wanting Solitude Not Understanding Solitude They Will Attempt To Destroy Anything That Differs From Their Own Not Being Able To Create Art They Will Not Understand Art

They Will Consider Their Failure As Creators Only As A Failure Of The World

Not Being Able To Love Fully They Will BELIEVE Your Love Incomplete AND THEN THEY WILL HATE YOU

And Their Hatred Will Be Perfect

Like A Shining Diamond Like A Knife Like A Mountain LIKE A TIGER LIKE Hemlock Their Finest ART

[From The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems 1946-1966]

[juzt-peachy]

okay but when Charles Bukowski said “I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead”

[irisvulpes]

[loveinquotesposts]

https://loveinquotes.com/the-genius-of-the-crowdthere-is-enough-treachery-hatred-violence-absurdity-in-the-average-human-being-to-supply-any-given-army-on-any-given-day-and-the-best-at-murder-are-those-who-preach-against-it/

The Genius Of The Crowdthere is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average human being to supply any given army on any given day and the best at murder are those who preach against it and the best at hate are those who preach love and the best at war finally are those who preach peace those who preach god, need god those who preach peace do not have peace those who preach peace do not have love beware the preachers beware the knowers beware those who are always reading books beware those who either detest poverty or are proud of it beware those quick to praise for they need praise in return beware those who are quick to censor they are afraid of what they do not know beware those who seek constant crowds for they are nothing alone beware the average man the average woman beware their love, their love is average seeks average but there is genius in their hatred there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you to kill anybody not wanting solitude not understanding solitude they will attempt to destroy anything that differs from their own not being able to create art they will not understand art they will consider their failure as creators only as a failure of the world not being able to love fully they will believe your love incomplete and then they will hate you and their hatred will be perfect like a shining diamond like a knife like a mountain like a tiger like hemlock their finest art ― Charles Bukowski, The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems, 1946-1966

#CharlesBukowski, #CharlesBukowskiCharlesBukowskiLoveQuotes, #CharlesBukowskiLoveQuotes, #CharlesBukowskiQuotes, #TheRoominghouseMadrigalsEarlySelectedPoems, #TheRoominghouseMadrigalsEarlySelectedPoemsQuotes

[dragonsanddarkacademia]

"I want so much that is not here and do not know where to go."

- Charles Bukowski, The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems, 1946 - 1966

[fookinsoul]

He rechazado la disciplina

del arte, del gobierno, y

de Dios y todo lo que

destruye mi parecer

y levanto ahora mi cerveza espumosa

en la dorada luz

del atardecer.

— Charles Bukowski. This. The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems 1946-1966

[sighs-and-cries]

I want so much that is not here and do not know where to go.

-Charles Bukowski, The Roominghouse Madrigals