Love as a Theme in Bukowski's Poetry (1 Viewer)

vodka

Miss Take
There is much attention paid to the womanizing, gambling and drinking ways of Charles Bukowski, but I find love as a theme running throughout his writing tends to be largely ignored.

Some of Bukowski's love poems are as striking, if not more, than anything I have read by poets who are known for their mastery of the topic. And any poet knows love is the hardest fucking subject to write well.

For example:

For Jane: With all the Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough

I pick up the skirt,
I pick up the sparkling beads
in black,
this thing that moved once
around flesh,
and I call God a liar,
I say anything that moved
like that
or knew
my name
could never die
in the common verity of dying,
and I pick
up her lovely
dress,
all her loveliness gone,
and I speak to all the gods,
Jewish gods, Christ-gods,
chips of blinking things,
idols, pills, bread,
fathoms, risks,
knowledgeable surrender,
rats in the gravy of two gone quite mad
without a chance,
hummingbird knowledge, hummingbird chance,
I lean upon this,
I lean on all of this
and I know
her dress upon my arm
but
they will not
give her back to me.


What do you think of the Bukowski's poetry which speaks of love or often the lack of it? Do you think it gets less attention than the other subjects he writes about? If so, why? Of the women he chose to love - why do you think he chose them? Or do you think he loved them because they chose him?

A long time ago, a friend of mine asked me, knowing how much a fan I am, if I would have had sex with Charles Bukowski. Years later, I still am not able to come up with an answer to that question, however I do know that while reading Bukowski I have fallen in love with him several times over.

vodka
 
I find The Shower a good poem (on Linda King) but most of all I love the love poem on Linda Bukowski with the final words: I love you
 
Good one, just saw Born Into This last night. Girls love it when men cry.

(scratching head) How did that girl put it? When a man is crying it's the only time I know I can believe him.

Bukowski poured his heart out. Just watch that again.
 
yah i disagree with that crying thing. a man cries when he wants something that he knows he can't get otherwise.

although not in the instance of that reading.

i had forgotten about that.

it's disarming.
 
yah i disagree with that crying thing. a man cries when he wants something that he knows he can't get otherwise.

Don't know about the men you've been hanging out with, but I've never "used" crying in a manipulative way. I cried when my mom died, when the Red Sox won the World Series, when the Patriots won the Super Bowl, hearing Beethoven's Ninth at Symphony Hall, and when ole Yeller got shot.
 
well i'd be willing to say there are most likely men who cry because they are sincerely overcome with emotion. just not all of them all of the time.

none of that addresses the issue, though, of why people seem to have such an easy time focusing on what they believe to be negative themes in Bukowski's work and such a hard time acknowledging beauty, love and emotion in it.

not speaking of the people on this forum, of course - but i think we're all aware of how Bukowski is received by many a university professor.
 
Well, amen to that. Even his negative themes speak of a need for beauty to me. But the poem you cited at the top, and other works similar to that, do indeed describe love much better than the "academics" who supposedly know it better.

Of course, it's just so much ball-washing here, because most of us here see Buk as the greatest or one of the best poets ever. But the reason for that isn't because I like to get drunk and call society shit (although I do enjoy that on occasion); it's because I appreciate both beauty and ugliness when described to a T.
 
What do you think of the Bukowski's poetry which speaks of love or often the lack of it?

I think you meant unrequited love, and/or loss
of love rather than an actual lack of love.


Do you think it gets less attention than the other subjects he writes about?


For the most part. Yeah. Some critical acclaim
acknowledges it, but your average Joe on the street
will point to fucking, or drinking, etc. The same
things some academics point to in dismissing Buk.

Obviously to understand Bukowski, you have to
acknowledge the fact that he could write like a
motherfucker. It wasn't the topics. It was the fact
that he could really write.

There is an old adage in writing:
Write what you know

If Bukowski had lived the life of a Prince, he would
have written about what Princes live. He wrote
what he knew. And that included love.


Of the women he chose to love - why do you think he chose them? Or do you think he loved them because they chose him?


There were so many, dear. I think you meant the
ones we all acknowledge: Jane, and the two Lindas.
Then there was FrancEye, the mother of his
daughter. Then Cupcake. Also Barbara Frye . . .

Of all of them, Jane broke his heart, as I see it.
I believe she was his first, and greatest love. In a
way it was an unrequited love. I don't know that
anyone ever chooses unrequited love; it sort of
happens. But she was his first. And she died. They
never spent a lifetime together, as lovers may.

He spent as much time with Linda King as the
world would allow. He began changing, and then he
met Linda Lee Beighle, and she became Linda Bukowski.

I remember Linda King saying that Bukowski really
was a very ugly man. She said this in a very loving
way, but she was telling the truth about him.
Henry Charles Bukowski was no prize.

But love is a funny thing, isn't it? People choose
one another. Or they don't. I think it is mutual.


A long time ago, a friend of mine asked me, knowing how much a fan I am, if I would have had sex with Charles Bukowski. Years later, I still am not able to come up with an answer to that question, however I do know that while reading Bukowski I have fallen in love with him several times over.


Infatuation, my dear, is different from being in
love. It's similar. Being in love with someone
necessitates two people. ;)


people seem to have such an easy time focusing on what they believe to be negative themes in Bukowski's work and such a hard time acknowledging beauty, love and emotion in it.


It is always easier to say I hate than to say I love.


I appreciate both beauty and ugliness when described to a T.


I think that hits it finally.

For all the nights torn mad with footsteps,
the fucker could write.

Because he wrote about what he knew, and he
knew whores, fighting, puking, and love, we find
much to discover beneath the surface of Henry Charles Bukowski.

But most treasures take a little digging to discover.
This would include the mystery of love. . .

Keep digging.

- -
Okay,
Father Luke
 
I think the first Bukowski poem that moved me to tears was "For Jane". And I think I've mentioned this in a previous thread, so please No Reminders !

Love was something Buk handled as well as the "masters", I agree. Though in a different form. "The Shower" and similar poems drilled right to the center of a romantic relationship and struck h-e-a-r-t.

But those short poems about Marina were the perfect 8mm home-movies of a Dad's love for his little girl. Love is celebrated for what it is and isn't. Though even cats get their proper veneration through the porticoes of his imagination. His love for animals, also reveals him to be a person capable of love.

He just processed it differently than most of us.
(thank god)
 
i've never really gravitated to bukowski for the womanizing and the drinking, but more for that gentle undercurrent that seems to run beneath it all of love, beauty, subtle poignancy, gentleness - here i'm speaking mostly about the poems - and not done in a way that would reflect sentimentality, and in the end, when i think about buk's work as a whole, what touches me and still keeps me inspired is his knack for bringing beauty to the foreground, even against a hardscrabble life, and his ability to laugh at himself. however, this does not mean i would have sex with him either.
 
Father Luke,

I disagree, in part. I do believe Bukowski wrote well, but that is entirely up to debate. Many, many people would disagree. I do think that Bukowski's subject matter, in part, made what he was doing work. It's not all, but it is at least some.

I do also believe Bukowski touched on lack as love as well as unrequited and lost love. I think he expressed this throughout the subject of loneliness, which I also find him to be very eloquent about. I especially like the concept of being lonely even among others, or especially among others.

Purple Stickpin,

I think Bukowski expanded on the topics of beauty and ugliness by expressing the beauty in ugliness.
 
Father Luke,

I disagree, in part. I do believe Bukowski wrote well, but that is entirely up to debate.


Would you agree that he was prolific?


Many, many people would disagree. I do think that Bukowski's subject matter, in part, made what he was doing work. It's not all, but it is at least some.

He really rather wrote on a variety of human experiences. Which do you mean?

I do also believe Bukowski touched on lack

of

as love as well as unrequited and lost love. I think he expressed this

through

throughout the subject of loneliness, which I also find him to be very eloquent about. I especially like the concept of being lonely even among others, or especially among others.

It's easy to see why you may disagree that he was
a writer who wrote well.

Not everything may be as easy to express
as first it seems, vodka.

Good writing, and writing well, takes much
diligence, practice, and it may be discerned by
them who write well themselves. . . ;)



Purple Stickpin,

I think Bukowski expanded on the topics of beauty and ugliness by expressing the beauty in ugliness.
 
god you're such a nitty little bitty.

yes, prolific. fuckoff.

i did not say he didn't write well, i said it was up for debate according to those who don't think he writes well, of which there are many.

as for your grammar corrections, Father Luke:

One scoop of creamed potatoes. A slice of butter. Four peas. And as much ice cream as you'd like to eat.
 
I'm staying out of this debate. Except to say I personally believe that Bukowski was technically very skilled as a writer, a tool he used or didn't used, as he wished. He didn't need it, but it was there, like a razor in his pocket. But that's not the source of his appeal or his fame. He wrote honestly, with great heart, and that appeals to many. And his subjects were ones that the masses could understand and relate to. But buried in the stories and poems, tremendous technical proficiency that goes largely unnoticed by his critics, his fans and the academics who hate him.
 
I do believe Bukowski wrote well, but that is entirely up to debate. Many, many people would disagree.
Yes, many would disagree. Reminds me of a scene in Amadeus...

Emperor Joseph II: "My dear young man, don't take it too hard. Your work is ingenious. It's quality work. And there are simply too many notes, that's all. Just cut a few and it will be perfect."

Mozart: "Which few did you have in mind, Majesty?"

Everyone is an expert on what's "good," and meanwhile the geniuses laugh and carry on with what they were doing.
 
- but i think we're all aware of how Bukowski is received by many a university professor.

Those who can do and those who can't teach.

I know there are a great many exceptions to that, but I've witnessed very capable high powered teachers who are very jealous of pure talent.

Love is the most important thing in our life. I know because I am an expert since I've learned from many mistakes. Bukowski writes about love from his own experiences so we get a very pure message of his ideas and emotions.
A great writer can translate what is in his head or in his heart to words. I am not very good at that yet. Bukowski does that consistantly. I think he translated passion to words at the same time.
 
Father Luke - if love is only infatuation unless the other person falls in love with you, how do you explain all this unrequited love you are going on about?

mjp: that is funny. i had forgotten about that.

one question i would like to see explored further by the members of this forum:

Of the women he chose to love - why do you think he chose them? Or do you think he loved them because they chose him?
 
Father Luke - if love is only infatuation unless the other person falls in love with you, how do you explain all this unrequited love you are going on about?



Being in love, as you say you are when you read
Bukowski, is infatuation.

Unrequited love is Henry Charles Bukowski holding
Jane Cooney Baker's black dress, and knowing for
certain that all of her loveliness is gone.

That was the difference, vodka.


mjp: that is funny. i had forgotten about that.

one question i would like to see explored further by the members of this forum:
Of the women he chose to love - why do you think he chose them? Or do you think he loved them because they chose him?

2589810067_359e81e0a1_m.jpg


I pretty well talked about this. Bukowski had many,
many women. Some he fucked, some he loved. I
believe the Women that we remember him being
in love with were not there simply because he
loved them, but because they also loved him.

Love doesn't happen alone.
Like a raffle, you have to be present to win. ;)

So. vodka. Why do you think he chose them?
Or do you think he loved them because they chose him?
 
Love is a Cat from Heaven, a Dog From Hell

I wonder if any of us "choose" whom we love. I'm beginning to think the scientists are on to something with all the talk of pheromones...It's all chemical! We think we are making a choice, but it happens to us, we are chosen. IT decides. And where does it happen? The "id," the "unconscious," the "heart" the "soul", the loins...The intense sexual attractions Buk writes about. There are moments when you are taken out of yourself by the intensity of the sexual feelings, ecstatic, and he's great at describing those moments. ..I wonder too about "addiction" here. The connection between drinking, writing, sex, music, transcendence: "wine, women and song..." But remember that poem where he says "it's not the fucking and sucking..it's all the extras, the little things" or something like that.

But yes, Bukowski's great theme is love and of course he came from such a horrible, brutal, loveless background, that I think he was like a hungry animal, a deprived creature, deprived of sunlight, warmth, love....Hence all the anger obviously. But also this incredible sensitivity to the world.

I think people who are damaged psychologically in childhood may develop an incredibly sensitive radar for the true feelings of other humans and when they are real or authentic or not. Hemingway says a good writer should have a "built-in bullshit detector" so I think that's what Buk had. Hating the falsity and phoniness in others, but also able to see when he himself was not being sincere or honest or upfront. And craving love as a kind of redemption, a sacred moment of true communion between people.

I was going to write that he wanted this love with a woman, but I just thought that perhaps he also wanted close friendship with a man--something like what DH Lawrence describes in "Women in Love"--"Blutbruderschaft". He wrote a very touching preface to an unpublished book of William Wantling's where he describes this close male friendship. But any approach to the sacredness of love can also lead to terrible anguish--see "Love is A Dog From Hell", "Women", etc etc. Dostoyevsky: "Fathers and teachers, what is hell? I maintain hell is the suffering of being unable to love." e.e. cummings: "be of love (a little) more careful than of everything" and "unlove is the heavenless hell and homeless home..."

Big topic, Vodka!
 
Gerard, what do you mean by that? determination and drive in relation to?

Father Luke, whether i was in love with Bukowski or not is really not the point here. i do not believe that Bukowski's love for Jane was necessarily unrequited. damaged and skewed, yes, but not unrequited by definition. while i realize you addressed the topic of Bukowski's loves in depth, i do, at times, like to hear the other members of the forum's opinions. am i supposed to use a winky here? my raffle number is 58, by the way. what's yours?

David, funny but your post could open up an entirely different debate about love. i do believe Bukowski had a deeper understanding of love than just the fucking and sucking, as illustrated in the clip Father Luke posted above. true that people who are damaged might develop a stronger sense of other people's emotions. i think in a situation of extreme abuse it becomes a survival skill.

jenifer
 
I think our friend David Barker here wrote an interesting piece on Bukowski's early love poems. It's in one of those cool Sure newsletters.

Most people mention "For Jane" and the other love poems which appeared in The Days... but Bukowski wrote many more poems for Jane in 1962. Some of them were collected in Open all Night.
 
Gerard, what do you mean by that? determination and drive in relation to?jenifer

I guess my point is based on what I got from the story. I can't re-read it yet because my boss lost my copy of Women.

I think people can be attracted to and then fall in love with someone for just about anything. Linda King had a very captive prospect sitting for her posing for the famous bust of Buk. They both bonded to each other.
She was determined to get him to sit and pose for that. I think it flattered him into an attraction.

Aside: You know we are doing some creative writing majors homework here.
They are so lucky.
 
cirerita, oh sure there were plenty of love poems. i seem to remember a poem at the end of Love is a Dog from hell... something about driving around in the rain? i cannot quite remember it entirely and of course i gave that copy away.

Father Luke, i think he could love those who would stick around, and which he could tolerate to stick around at the same time. i think, in that manner, there was probably a combination of him choosing them and them choosing him. to gain his love they would have had to be interested in him long enough for that to develop. i think the ones who chose him chose him because they could see him. beyond his writing.

Gerard, perhaps as an artist she could see the beauty in ugliness also. because let's face it, Buk was not a pretty man. in that manner i guess i would say, again, that to love him you had to see him. see him see him. does that make sense?

jen
 
And lets make the point that Jane may have loved him as best she could better than she could. Her love may have been the heroic bootstrap love that makes one better than imagined if only for moment.

FL I have issues with unrequited love even for the dead-but I suspect this may be more wordsmithing on my part. True love for me is like Jagger and Richards-Jones & Strummer
Page&Plant Prince&Prince. The parts togther are something never imagined possible or even attainable separate.
 
cirerita, oh sure there were plenty of love poems. i seem to remember a poem at the end of Love is a Dog from hell... something about driving around in the rain? i cannot quite remember it entirely and of course i gave that copy away.

Father Luke, i think he could love those who would stick around, and which he could tolerate to stick around at the same time. i think, in that manner, there was probably a combination of him choosing them and them choosing him. to gain his love they would have had to be interested in him long enough for that to develop. i think the ones who chose him chose him because they could see him. beyond his writing.



This wouldn't really account for Jane, though,
would it? Jane wasn't attracted to the Bukowski
persona. There was no Public Bukowski.

Jane was his true love because there was nothing
else besides she and him. No public persona, no
screaming women at poetry readings, no one
sending pictures of themselves in bathtubs reading
his poetry.

Jane was jane. He was bukowski.

The others, the ones everyone remembers, the two
Lindas? They loved him despite the popularity, and
the fame. They loved him beyond the persona.

But Jane was first. She saw him before the writing.


Gerard, perhaps as an artist she could see the beauty in ugliness also. because let's face it, Buk was not a pretty man. in that manner i guess i would say, again, that to love him you had to see him. see him see him. does that make sense?

jen
 
So, when is the wedding?

Coy glances, knowing looks, etc.

But seriously, I always figgered Bukowski had very deep feelings of love because there was such a lack of it in his life as a kid. That lack of tenderness must have really warped how he related to others, even in love....

I dunno, maybe he was simply obsessive or domineering but in his own mind, at the very least, he almost always appears to have taken it more seriously than the loved one. His widow excepted. Maybe others. What the fuck. I'm trying to come to terms with another man's love from what he's written about it and the very limited glimpses I've had of the man from grainy film clips.

I don't even know what my own love means.

I too, cried at Old Yeller. And probably ET, but I was what? 10 yrs old at best.

I cry a lot less now. When I feel it coming I just get nasty.

Quote from Vodka: "Buk was not a pretty man." Pretty no, beautiful yes. What a unique and startling physical beauty.

Love? A dog from hell. Ezekiel 27:23

I just scrolled down and read "David" (9:10 am today, such an obvious pseudonym--oop! gork ;)): you said all I wanted to say much more coherently.

Vodka, you're pretty clever but I don't like your pseudonym. (Don't really like mine either)

Back on topic: LOVE. Get back to me when you've figgered it out. For yourself. Then work on whether Bukowski felt it or not.

Okay, sorry, Glenfiddich and Kronenbourg again.

Wouldn't exactly dedicate one of his love peoms to a potential partner but he's still pretty on the money in my book.

My neighbor is a hunter.

Now that's profound!
 
Father Luke, i feel as though you just keep paraphrasing me and calling it something else.

stimso, yes we were just discussing how his fucked up childhood may have warped how he loved others in his adult life. and i don't know - i've sent Bukowski poems to people i love to illustrate love. sorry you're not digging my pseudonym... not sure what's to be done about that.

jenifer
 
Father Luke, i feel as though you just keep paraphrasing me and calling it something else.



Has it also occurred to you, dear, that I am
agreeing with you?




stimso, yes we were just discussing how his fucked up childhood may have warped how he loved others in his adult life. and i don't know - i've sent Bukowski poems to people i love to illustrate love. sorry you're not digging my pseudonym... not sure what's to be done about that.

jenifer
 
if you're agreeing with me why does it always sound like you're arguing?

you are purposely trying to get under my skin.
 
Sorry Vodka. A good illustration of why I should probably refrain from hitting the reply button while in a state of, um, non-sobriety. Many of the times like that I don't even agree with me.
 

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