Justin Hyde ... (1 Viewer)

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Hey hank solo, Thanx for posting that poem, I loved it from the first time I read it! It has a real way of putting poetry in it's place... 'all absolute nonesense' indeed! God, Bukowski really did know what he was doing! God bless em'!! CRB
 
Yes, but you have to admit, The Tasty Bukowskis would be a hell of a name for a rock band ...

as bukowski said of sartre's line about hell,
"right on
and through the bull's eye"

(did sartre really even say that?
or was it only one of his characters?)

just now it occurs to me to go one further:
we are
The Tasty Bukowskis

totally off the subject, i'll come right out and admit
to reading my uncle walt lately.
the man has a way with nesting parentheses in poems
that i don't see every day
cf the song of myself

and lastly i've got to ask it:
did buk read his big brother walt?
or better yet,
how?

an interesting poet with an audience to please, we need
more pleasure in the world and maybe then we'll stop the bleeding, shit
the ravings of the critics kill whatever magic might be hidden
deep within the bowels of this culture, now bed-ridden
 

Lolita Twist

Rose-hustler
I would be interested to hear what people here at bukowski.net have to say about this:

http://www.outsiderwriters.org/content/view/690/1/

Especially those who have read his work.

The work I've read of Hyde's appears on the page in the link. He's good, yes. But, I don't think people should ever call anyone "the next this or that". I really don't see the point of it. If you want to praise them, praise them. Saying they're the next someone is just unoriginal - no writer who thinks anything of himself should want to be the next anyone, they'd simply want to be themselves, no? What made Buk so special, to me and for me, was that there was nothing like him. There were similarities in caliber, like Runyon who wrote about gambling degenerates and drunks in a way that put cunning linguists to shame, or like HST who seemed to just not give a fuck about conventional society... but the styles of great men differ greatly, and that's what makes them great.
 
Not The next Buk..... 'Cos its a lady and she's English.....
But she's good its by Catherine Smith:

REQUEST

Send me your bed, but please, don't change the sheets.
Pay two strong men to load it on a van,
and drive it through the rain at one a.m.
I'll be awake, I need to search for stains;
let me caress your pillow, let me find
shed hairs, and place them on my tongue.
Then I'll lie back and, parting my damp legs,
remember you and me as we made love-

one last time - one last and perfect time,
We're better off apart - you, streets away,
mapping another's skin. Stay where you are
while what I'll touch is soiled. If you are kind
I'll ask for nothing more. Do this one thing.
I haven't slept for weeks. Send me your bed.

BY CATHERINE SMITH
 
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I knew a lady who once lived with Hemingway.
I knew a lady who claimed to have screwed Ezra Pound.
Sartre invited me to visit him in Paris but I was too stupid to
accept.
Caresse Crosby of Black Sun Press wrote me from Italy.
Henry Miller's son wrote that I was a better writer than his
father.
I drank wine with John Fante.
but none of this matters at all except in a romantic sort of
way.
some day they'll be talking about me:
"Chinaski wrote me a letter."
"I saw Chinaski at the racetrack."
"I watched Chinaski wash his car."
all absolute nonsense.
meanwhile, some wild-eyed young man
alone and unknown in a room
will be writing things that will make you forget
everybody else
except maybe the young man to
follow after
him.

"i watched chinaski wash his car." ha!!!

spot on! thanks buk. and hank solo for reminding me how great he was...
 
Nice, nice piece by Ms. Smith. Thanks for posting, Corndog, I enjoyed it tremendously. Is she well-known in the U.K.?

She's not too well known... But has a couple of books out:
'The Butcher's Hands' and 'Lip'
I also like Jean Sprackland, an odd name but she's a good poet also:

Shadow photographs

On the run from our own faces,
but wanting to capture
the oddness of our conjunction,
we photographed our shadow:
a dark double figure on sand
the negative we were together.


Earlier that day
he parked on the beach and parted my thighs,
the first to try and define me with his tongue.
He was not the one, it was all wrong.
I struggled against the seatbelt
and my damp, bunched skirt,
making to pull away, kick the door open,
scramble out into the sunlight

but suddenly loosened into stillness
by that silvery flickering,
the new low sound of my voice,
the sweetness leaking from me where he drank.

We intercepted light, we were
a region unreached by it.
This is the ghost of us,
a counterfeit holiday snap:
my head on his shoulder, some blown hair
like a dark flame.

By Jean Sprackland
:):):)
 
Wow! Finally, someone mentions a poet who is not American, at the risk of sounding xenophobic in the Hilterite extreme, and alienating myself even moree on this site, THANK FUCK FOR THAT!

The next Bukwoski - NOT an American?

She may not be Bukowski, nor would she want to be perhaps, but this poetess from Edinburgh stirkes me as SHITHOT: Claire Askew. Here are two examples of her poeyums:

Built in

I am still in here, despite the siege. Still here,
behind the maze of scaffolding and duckboards -
business almost as usual, though I daren't leave.

I watch the men through the drawn blind like TV,
as they paint over the rotting window frames,
drink tea from flasks, sandblast, dig up pipes outside.

I keep the windows locked, just in case - paranoid,
I hide the jewellery box. On cold days, they slither
about on the slats, four floors up - a precarious ballet.

Some nights, I like to haul myself through
the wet window with a steaming cup, and sway
on the scaffold, scaring myself. I can choose -

to look out over the rainy slates, streetlights, the stretch
of council yards, or plunge. (Cobbles wink in the alley
below, its discarded mattress a festering fall-breaker.)

But it will be gone soon, this crows' nest, climbing-frame
for drunks, this cage. They will come in the morning,
wake me early, and pack it away, whistling.

Under South Bridge

This is just one arch in an army
of many. Arthritic old lady of Edinburgh -
hunched over Cowgate, back bent
like a book-spine, like a toughened bow;
a sudden gap in the city's slack smile.

A bus swings through her like the tongue
of a bell, flinging peals of pigeons
into the cool air. A busker harvests her echo,
this bridge of sighs - slouching at the edge
of her boat-hull-black roar.

Stand in her rushing yawn yourself, or slide
between her jawbones in the tarmac's tread.
Graffiti - like a sandstone tattoo - taints
the upturned dish of dark: Fuck Westminster.
Jambos forever! SCOTIA! Poles Go Home.
-I think they are Quality poems.
 
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Gerard K H Love

Appreciate your friends
Wow! Finally, someone mentions a poet who is not American, at the risk of sounding xenophobic in the Hilterite extreme, and alienating myself even moree on this site, THANK FUCK FOR THAT!

Did you mean: Hitlerite ?

Hit·ler·ism (htl-rzm)
n.
The fascistic and nationalistic theories and practices of Adolf Hitler and the Nazis.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hitler·ite (-l-rt) adj. & n.
 

Father Luke

Founding member
Wow! Finally, someone mentions a poet who is not American, at the risk of sounding xenophobic in the Hilterite extreme, and alienating myself even moree on this site, THANK FUCK FOR THAT!

Did you mean: Hitlerite ?

Hit·ler·ism (htl-rzm)
n.
The fascistic and nationalistic theories and practices of Adolf Hitler and the Nazis.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hitler·ite (-l-rt) adj. & n.


Olaf has admitted to being dyslexic.
Not a crime.

I think he's also a charmer.
Long winded, but a charmer.

* kof *
 

Gerard K H Love

Appreciate your friends
Comparing me to Hitler, not charming.

I do like Olaf even though he throws big rocks wrapped in obscure verbage that translate into to some nasty crap.
Hitlerite, fellate. I know it might be frustrating to be a postal emplyee but at some point you need to establish who your friends are, and treat them as such.
Other than that he's a nice guy.;)
 

Father Luke

Founding member
Comparing me to Hitler, not charming.

Well, I read Olaf as saying:

Wow! Finally, someone mentions a poet who is not American, at the risk of sounding xenophobic in the Hilterite extreme, and alienating myself even moree on this site, THANK FUCK FOR THAT!

At the risk of appearing to take sides,
I think he was comparing himself to Hill Ter,
and not comparing you, nor anyone else.

--
Okay,
Father Luke
 
I do have a weird attitude in this forum at times. I can't seem to outgrow it. I come on here with a slightly playful and mischievous annoyance.


anyway, enough of me!
 
Well, I don't feel like running all the way though these posts because they go off topic (mostly to hilarious extents) but I e-mailed Hyde because I really do enjoy his poetry. He's lovely and quite funny, actually. Apparently going through his divorce has made him kind of bitter. Perhaps more poetry will ensue. But regardless, without provocation, he sent me his recently published book. Nice guy, good poetry. The next Buk? Doubtful. But they have similar vulgar undertones, ha.

That's all I've got.
 

Lolita Twist

Rose-hustler
vodka said:
there isn't a next bukowski. there is bukowski, and there are other excellent poets, but there is not a next bukowski.


Agree with vodka and otheres that there is not and cannot be a "next Bukowski". Buk is Buk.
 
i believe Douglas is the next Bukowski...
doug.jpg
 
mdr, I hang my head in shame that this jerk lives in my state. It can't be true anyway, Bukowski had MUCH nicer hair!CRB:)
 
there was a bum on the streets of the village in NYC during the 80's that would write a poem, subject of your choice, for 5 bucks. I have three. One on the Inquisition, another about "travails" and yet another about Iron Mike Tyson. They are put away, unworthy...but all poetry must arrive unsolicited. Beware that some of it isnt pertinent.
 

bospress.net

www.bospress.net
This guy sold one for $2.81 last week on ebay, if I remember correctly. It is amazing that people bid on poetry from people like this. It could be great, or it could be complete garbage. I also love that Ginsberg told him that he wrote like Bukowski. I wonder if that was a stock insult that he pulled out from time to time. I do not believe that he liked the writing of Bukowski*, so that would NOT be a compliment coming from him.

Bill

* Can anyone recall if A.G. liked Buk's writing?
 

Black Swan

Abord the Yorikke!
yeah , I did send him a question and he replied . This is what he wrote.

Here's one of my faves, I call it Pi

3.1415913606318558305298356388963436578734944235741964662846321623376378309278331050138084215303756168813842406680412435632153105064443213954873
671701047501501360631855830529835638896343657873494423574196466284632162337637830927833105013808421530375616881384240668041243563215310506444321395487009663868356623615649811119856138686283489294333756528568765225744795341661934890672252601450705015671701047501501360631855830529835638896343657873494423574196466284636717010475015013606318558305298356388963436578734944235741964662846321623376378309278331050138084215303756168813842406680412435632153105064443213954870096638683566236156498111198561386862834892943337565285687652257447953416619348906722526014507050156717010475015013606318558305298356388963436578734944235741964662846367170104750150136063185583052983563889634365787349442357419646628463216233763783092783310501380842153037561688138424066804124356321531050644432139548700966386835662361564981111985613868628348929433375652856876522574479534166193489067225260145070501567170104750150136063185583052983357419646628463671701 047501501360631855830529835638896343657873494423574196466284632162337637830927833105013808421530375616881384240668041243563215310506444321395487009663868356623615649811119856138686283489294333756528568765225744795341661934890672252601450705015671701047501501360631855830529835638896343657873494423574196466284636717010475015013606318558305298356388963436578734944235741964662846321623376378309278331050138084215303756168813842406680412435632153105064443213954870096638683566236156498111198561386862834892943337565285687652257447953416619348906722526014507050156717010475015013606318558305298356388963436578734944235741964662846367170104750150136063185583052983563889634365787349442357419646628463216233763783092783310501380842153037561688138424066804124356321531050644432139548700966386835662361564981111985613868628348929433375652856876522574479534166193489067225666
:eek:
 
Dear Black Swan, 'Heres one of my faves, I call it PI'.... LOL:) I hope you printed and saved it. I mean, the viability in the market place for work like that...well, who can compete?CRB:) Thanks for that post, it was great.
 
He said that "Alan Ginsberg" told him that once. Alan Ginsberg might be a "Real Estate" salesman from Yonkers, NY, or a janitor from Dubuque, IA (not that there's anything wrong with that). Allen Ginsberg was a poet (like him or not).

Who knows if it's a simple matter of a mis-spelling (sic) or perhaps the unread fine print.

Maybe it was Allyn Ginzburgh?
 

number6horse

okyoutwopixiesoutyougo
Nice detail catch there ! I'll bet the fucker knows 90% of the people reading that will assume that it's Ginsberg the poet. I did.

***returns to proofreading class with a scowl***
 
He said that "Alan Ginsberg" told him that once. Alan Ginsberg might be a "Real Estate" salesman from Yonkers, NY, or a janitor from Dubuque, IA (not that there's anything wrong with that). Allen Ginsberg was a poet (like him or not).

Who knows if it's a simple matter of a mis-spelling (sic) or perhaps the unread fine print.

Maybe it was Allyn Ginzburgh?

I looked up Alan Ginsberg in the PA white pages and got 6 hits to exact spelling. Many more with off spellings or initials. I guess I'll be on the phone for a while longer, mjp(;)) Thanks PS.
 
Justin Hyde

"imagine if socrates
showed up in america
today:

he'd probably walk coast to coast
a couple times
until he realized
what he was working with.

then he'd disappear
quietly into the woods
and send sparrows skyward
unzipping his soul
with a .357"
Excerpt from Justin Hyde's 'right before the ass-crack of 2am'
 
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Black Swan

Abord the Yorikke!
"
then he'd disappear
quietly into the woods
and send sparrows skyward
unzipping his soul
with a .357"
Excerpt from Justin Hyde's 'right before the ass-crack of 2am'

Very nice!
 
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bospress.net

www.bospress.net
I looked up Alan Ginsberg in the PA white pages and got 6 hits to exact spelling. Many more with off spellings or initials. I guess I'll be on the phone for a while longer, mjp(;)) Thanks PS.

Hi,
He just relisted it with this description:

"My style is a combo of Dr. Seuss, Woody Guthrie, and Charles Bukowski (at least that is what my friend Al N. Ginsberg once told me)."

Now this is getting silly. I wonder how many people will fall for that!

Bill
 
Yeah, he already had 7 people or so bidding on one of his poems.
That's probably not even a picture of him anyway.
I bet you he's 15, and that was his crazy uncle walking out of some restroom that he took a picture of.
The guy also has a Bukowski button, with a heading underneath the title that says, "You know you want it"

ugh.
 
Another by Justin Hyde:

//my grandfather was a deadeye//

he dropped pheasants
at eye-level,
doves with a pistol,
quarters thrown in the air
for shots of whiskey.

after he passed,
dad got his old
double barrel shotgun

lucy.

she hung
from two lengths of twine
in the basement
until i was fourteen.

i bought a box
of slug-shot
from wal-mart,
no note,
popped one in the left chamber
barrel in my throat
big toe on the trigger.

click.

i'd accidentally
had the
thumb-lever
set for
the right barrel.

sometimes i still hear it
in my dreams,

a dropped spoon
on the kitchen floor,

or a nail gun
dancing on a roof
off in some
distance.
 
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