March 9th, 2010 - Bukowski died 16 years ago (1 Viewer)

I am thinking about him, as most of us do (I guess).
And I just don't want a random thread to become THE ONE for him this year.

If you think, you should talk about your feelings on this sad anniversary, do it here.
Or don't. He doesn't care anymore anyways.
 
16 years, yet we're still getting two new books, Absence of the Hero and Pamela Wood's Scarlet, in the next six weeks or so. You can't ask for much more than that.
 
True! It only goes to show Bukowski wasn't a flash in the pan. 16 years has gone by and he's as popular as he ever was.
His life almost reads like a fairy tale of sorts. First he went through all kinda crap and then finally he ended up as a successful writer, against the odds you might say (Don't try). That's a very inspirational story for the rest of us, I think.
I'll remember Buk today by reading some of his stuff and watch a bit of one of the DVD's.
 
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a fine madness

so many of my brain cells eaten away by
alcohol.
as I sit here drinking now,
all of my drinking companions dead,
I scratch my belly and dream of the
albatross.
I drink alone now.
I drink with myself and for myself.
I drink to my life and to my death.
my thirst is still not satisfied.
I light another cigarette, turn the
bottle slowly, admire its gorgeous
color.
a fine companion.
years have passed like this.
what else could I have done
and done so well?
I have consumed more drink than the first
one hundred men you will pass
on the street
or meet in the madhouse.
I scratch my belly and dream of the
albatross.
I have joined the great drunks of
the centuries:
Li Po, Toulouse-Lautrec, Crane, Faulkner.
I have been selected
but by whom?
I stop now, lift the bottle, swallow a
mighty mouthful.
impossible for me to think that
some have actually stopped and
become sober
citizens.
it saddens me.
they are dry, dull, safe.
I scratch my belly and dream of the
albatross.
the world is full for me and I am
satisfied.
I drink this last one for all of you
and to me.
it is very late now, a lone
dog howls in the
night
and I am as young as
the fire that still
burns
within.


© Charles Bukowski
 
... he ended up as a successful writer, against the odds you might say (Don't try). That's a very inspirational story for the rest of us, I think.

No thinking about it, you're dead-on right. Well said, Bukfan. Absence of the Hero, indeed.
 
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Well, I can't not give my respect to the man. He is an inspiration---- man his life-story alone is enough to work from, but out of it all he has left a stockpile of timeless work behind him. When I see the interviews of him when he was older, he still seems like he has that burning fire in him. This makes it particularly sad when you reflect on his death because he could have gone one forever! he didn't burn out like most do. He stuck at it. Man, you can't get much more a dedicated writer than Buk.

I don't know. I have only been reading his work for a few years now, but already it has affected me like it has for so many others (esp. the poems). I can see the addictive qualitites of it...it is currently the only thing that still rings true regardless of my mood. It is something I can return to anytime and it always works like it did the first time; be it humour or sadness- often both.

Yeah it never dies out....for that reason he really did succeed in life.
 
If you think, you should talk about your feelings on this sad anniversary, do it here.
I do not consider March 9th as a sad day ("everybody gotta die someday", as someone here would put it); on the contrary, I am recalling all the good things that have happened to me since I am reading the dirty old man and I keep smiling!

I actually put a picture of him on my computer's screen at work (David's avatar, the photo on which he is drinking at "Apostrophes"), so I am bound to constantly think about him!

Here it is 9:45 pm. I have to cook my meal for tomorrow and then I am going to look for the Vancouver reading DVD. It is lost somewhere in my room since months (sorry Ponder!) and it would be wonderful to find it and at last watch it in this symbolic day.

Buk's not dead! Long live Zombie Bukowski!!! (I like this nickname :D)
 
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forget it

now, listen, when I die I don't want any crying, just get the
disposal under way, I've had a full some life and
if anybody has had an edge, I've
had it, I've lived 7 or 8 lives in one, enough for
anybody.
we are all, finally, the same, so no speeches, please,
unless you want to say he played the horses and was very
good at that.

you're next and I already know something you don't,
maybe.

© Charles Bukowski
 
forget it

now, listen, when I die I don't want any crying, just get the
disposal under way, I've had a full some life and
if anybody has had an edge, I've
had it, I've lived 7 or 8 lives in one, enough for
anybody.
we are all, finally, the same, so no speeches, please,
unless you want to say he played the horses and was very
good at that.

you're next and I already know something you don't,
maybe.

© Charles Bukowski

I know I'm not supposed to quote the post above me, but sometimes it's needed.

thank you, Mr. Bukowski. tonight I'm thinking of you. well, I'm always thinking of you, but tonight especially.
 
Almost too late but here is a new picture to hoonor the day from 1977 - never posted this one before.

buk 11_17_77_amazing grace_evanstan_il_200dpi.jpg
 
thanks for the cool pic, nado, and welcome.


Yesterday night, I was giving a Bukowski-reading in Bamberg.
It was in a small artsy café. The place was packed. People, old and young, liked it a lot and learned something about the 'other' side of Hank.
And I got my drinks for free.
 
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a new picture [...] from 1977
Are you sure about the date? I only ask because he was in Evanston in 1975 on almost the same date. Seems like an odd coincidence, but it could be just a coincidence.

What doesn't make as much sense is Evanston in November 75 and then Chicago (or Evanston again) in January 76. Also Chicago is obviously wrong for the 76 reading if Amazingrace (that's how I recall seeing it spelled in an ad someone posted) is in Evanston...

Interesting place though:

Amazingrace was a coffeehouse/collective that was born in 1970 on the Northwestern campus. It was awash in the hippie ethos of the time (leftist philosophy, organic food, folk music, communal living, etc.). Amazingrace and the university had a falling out, and the performance activities of the collective moved to The Main in 1974.

Amazingrace became one of the best music venues in the Chicago area - and maybe the world - for three years. The collective expanded from folk into jazz, blues, soul and rock. In addition to Bonnie Koloc and Jim Post, Amazingrace hosted Luther Allison, The Siegel-Schwall Blues Band, the Mahavishnu Orchestra, Gary Burton, Jean Luc Ponty and the Grateful Dead. I saw Charlie Mingus there in late 1976, shortly after I arrived in Evanston from Berkeley CA.

The Amazingrace space in The Main was unique - there were no food and drinks served (it didn't have a kitchen), and if I remember right, there were no seats. Patrons sat on a series of carpet-covered risers/steps that surrounded the stage. It was an awesome club, but it was run by anti-business/anti-profit hippies who were always bickering with each other. They fell behind on their rent, and the new owner of the building booted them out. A convenience store took over the Amazingrace space.
 
mjp - you got me. I thought I was sure about the date - that's what's written on the back of it anyway. But then I looked through some of my other buk stuff and found this ticket stub - amazingrace, Tuesday 11-18. A quick calendar check shows that the only Tuesday Nov 18 would have to be 1975 instead of 77.

amazingrace_ticket%2011_18_75.jpg


Also, I only saw Bukowski read once and it was at amazingrace with my friend Lee Stone (the photographer of the picture above).
 
Do you remember if he read there a couple months after you saw him? We have a January 1976 reading at Amazingrace listed here, and it seems pretty soon after the one you saw...
 
Sorry but I don't know. I was actually in college in Urbana, Illinois, at that time (160 miles south of Evanston) so the fact that I knew Bukowski was any where and that I could skip school to see him was a small miracle in it's own right. But as you have probably determined, I can't remember much from back then.
 

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