I Taste The Ashes Of Your Death - Nomad 1959 (1 Viewer)

[cirerita]

"I Taste The Ashes Of Your Death,"in NOMAD (Culver City, Calif.) 1 (Winter 1959). Collected in Flower, Fist and Bestial Wail - 1960.

Collected in The Days Run...

 

[FaceWhileShaving]

Hi!
I'm a new member, just having joined today. I admit to being a lurker prior to joining.

I've been a fan of Bukowski since I was a twenty-year-old college student at Temple University in 1987, which was when my buddies and I first discovered him. (I should probably post this info and a little more about myself on the main Buk page.)

Anyway, I wanted to mention that I think this poem has been collected already. It appears in The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over the Hills, on page 31 (of my paperback printing). If this has already been pointed out, I apologize for my redundancy.

This is a great site, and I hope to become an active and insight-offering participant.

John

 

[mjp]

He's got you there cirerita.

The database search for "ashes" brings up another interesting repeat: two manuscripts done within six months in 1975. Same title; "those flashes...," slightly different versions.

Never a dull moment.

And thanks for coming out of hiding John. The more the merrier.

 

[cirerita]

yeah, he sure got me there.

I'll tell you what: I got carried away somehow by reasonknot request. He wanted to read both "I Taste..." and "Some Notes...", and I didn't even double-check whether they were uncollected or not.

 

[mjp]

I blame reasonknot. ;)

 

[Ponder]

This new member never returned. I guess this is the internet or his wife got mad or 1001 other fictional reasons.

It's a shame he got lost in cyberspace, though.

 

[roni]

I didn't realize before, that this poem dates so early. From it's appearance in 'The Days Run Away' (and being placed there next to some Jane-poems) I always was thinking he'd refer to her death in that one. Which I now see, cannot be.

 

[Bukfan]

Well, I don't see it's about death per se...

 

[roni]

the title is.

 

[Bukfan]

Right, my mistake! I forgot all about the title and focused entirely on the poem. Oh well...:eek:

 

[chronic]

I hope to become an active and insight-offering participant.

We're still waiting.

 

[Erik]

Well, I don't see it's about death per se...

Really?
I always see a grave when reading this one.
As in "stem-sharp swords going in against your breast" = grass on a grave.
And, same as Roni, I always thought it was about Jane.
And while the grass is "stem-sharp" the rocks are sweet and wild.

Nice.

PS_: The timeline shows his father died in 1958 though. (And his mother in 1956)
Interesting.
Is it about his father?

 

[zobraks]

I reckon he'd never write something like this for his father.

 

[Andreas]

I always see a grave when reading this one.
As in "stem-sharp swords going in against your breast" = grass on a grave.

Thanks for the explanation. I never really understood this poem. Now I have at least an idea of its meaning, even though this idea isn't necessary to like it. The words (sudden water, snow, swords, breast, rocks) and the brevity of this one have always attracted me.

 

[Pogue Mahone]

I always see a grave when reading this one.

Mister, you deep...

 

[Pogue Mahone]

Here are the other three from Nomad 1