My Cats, by Charles Bukowski

I know. I know. they are limited, have different needs and concerns. but I watch and learn from them. I like the little they know, which is so much. they complain but never worry, they walk with a surprising dignity. they sleep with a direct simplicity that humans just can’t understand. their eyes are more […]

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For My 43rd Birthday, by Charles Bukowski

To end up alone in a tomb of a room without cigarettes or wine– just a lightbulb and a potbelly, grayhaired, and glad to have the room.

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The Tiger, by William Blake

Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?   In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?   And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist […]

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The Ship, by Sir J. C. Squire

The ship   There was no song nor shout of joy Nor beam of moon or sun, When she came back from the voyage Long ago begun; But twilight on the waters Was quiet and gray, And she glided steady, steady and pensive, Over the open bay. Her sails were brown and ragged, And her crew […]

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Stupidity Street, by Ralph Hodgson

I saw with open eyes Singing birds sweet Sold in the shops For people to eat, Sold in the shops of Stupidity Street. I saw in vision The worm in the wheat, And in the shops nothing For people to eat; Nothing for sale in Stupidity Street. Advertisements

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