Last Day of National Poetry Month!

by Ruby on April 30, 2010

April is coming to an end, and with it, National Poetry Month. I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading the poems Vroman’s employees have picked; I certainly have. If you haven’t… well, at least it’s almost over.

I saved today’s poems for last on purpose. They come from Danny, our Shipping/Receiving manager. Charles Bukowski is one of his favorite poets, and he especially likes Bukowski’s poetry on the subject of writing. In fact, Bukowski’s lack of formal structure, raw emotion, and outright rejection of the styles of other poets inspired Danny to start writing his own poetry. I tried to wrangle some for you, my lovely blog-readers, but unfortunately I have been unsuccessful so far.

In the mean time, you can find several of Bukowski’s poetry collections on our shelves right now, or you can browse and order them online. And now:  Bukowski on writing.

Writing
by Charles Bukowski

often it is the only
thing
between you and
impossibility.
no drink,
no woman’s love,
no wealth
can
match it.
nothing can save
you
except
writing.
it keeps the walls
from
failing.
the hordes from
closing in.
it blasts the
darkness.
writing is the
ultimate
psychiatrist,
the kindliest
god of all the
gods.
writing stalks
death.
it knows no
quit.
and writing
laughs
at itself,
at pain.
it is the last
expectation,
the last
explanation.
that’s
what it
is.

so you want to be a writer?
by Charles Bukowski

if it doesn’t come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don’t do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it for money or
fame,
don’t do it.
if you’re doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don’t do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don’t do it.
if it’s hard work just thinking about doing it,
don’t do it.
if you’re trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you’re not ready.

don’t be like so many writers,
don’t be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don’t be dull and boring and
pretentious, don’t be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don’t add to that.
don’t do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

So happy National Poetry Month, everyone!

{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

Cindy 04.30.10 at 4:17 pm

There’s going to be a Bukowski exhibit at the Huntington Oct. 9 to Feb. 14, 2011.
http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/jacketcopy/2010/04/bukowski-exhibit-huntington.html

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