Slouching Toward Nirvana

( 2 )

Overview

in this place

there are the ...

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Overview

in this place

there are the dead, the deadly and the dying.

there is the cross, the builders of the cross and the burners of the

cross.

the pattern of my life forms like a cheap shadow

on the wall before me.

my love

what is left of it

now must crawl

to wherever it can crawl.

the strongest know that death is

final

and the happiest are those gifted with the

shortest journey.

Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780060577049
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 1/3/2006
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 288
  • Sales rank: 495,146
  • Product dimensions: 6.00 (w) x 9.00 (h) x 0.72 (d)

Meet the Author

Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski is one of America's best-known contemporary writers of poetry and prose, and, many would claim, its most influential and imitated poet. He was born in Andernach, Germany, and raised in Los Angeles, where he lived for fifty years. He published his first story in 1944, when he was twenty-four, and began writing poetry at the age of thirty-five. He died in San Pedro, California, on March 9, 1994, at the age of seventy-three, shortly after completing his last novel, Pulp.

Biography

During the course of his long, prolific literary career, Charles Bukowski was known as a poet, novelist, short story writer, and journalist. But it is as a cult figure, an "honorary beat" who chronicled his notorious lifestyle in raw, unflinching poetry and prose, that he is best remembered. Born in the aftermath of World War I to a German mother and an American serviceman of German descent, he was brought to the U.S. at the age of three and raised in Los Angeles. By all accounts, his childhood was lonely and unhappy: His father beat him regularly, and he suffered from debilitating shyness and a severely disfiguring case of acne. By his own admission, he underwent a brief flirtation with the far right, associating as a teenager with Nazis and Nazi sympathizers. After high school, he attended Los Angeles City College for two years, studying art, literature, and journalism before dropping out.

Although two of his stories were published in small literary magazines while he was still in his early 20s, Bukowski became discouraged by his lack of immediate success and gave up writing for ten years. During this time he drifted around the country, working odd jobs; fraternizing with bums, hustlers, and whores; and drinking so excessively that he nearly died of a bleeding ulcer.

In the late 1950s, Bukowski returned to writing, churning out copious amounts of poetry and prose while supporting himself with mind-numbing clerical work in the post office. Encouraged and mentored by Black Sparrow Press publisher John Martin, he finally quit his job in 1969 to concentrate on writing full time. In 1985, he married his longtime girlfriend Linda Lee Beighle. Together they moved to San Pedro, California, where Bukowski began to live a saner, more stable existence. He continued writing until his death from leukemia in 1994, shortly after completing his last novel, Pulp.

Bukowski mined his notorious lifestyle for an oeuvre that was largely autobiographical. In literally thousands of poems, he celebrated the skid row drunks and derelicts of his misspent youth; and, between 1971 and 1989, he penned five novels (Post Office, Factotum, Women, Ham on Rye, and Hollywood) featuring Henry Chinaski, an alcoholic, womanizing, misanthrope he identified as his literary alter ego. (He also wrote the autobiographical screenplay for the 1987 film Barfly, starring Mickey Rourke and Faye Dunaway.) Yet, for all the shock value of his graphic language and violent, unlovely images, Bukowski's writing retains a startling lyricism. Today, years after his death, he remains one of the 20th century's most influential and widely imitated writers.

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    1. Date of Birth:
      August 16, 1920
    2. Place of Birth:
      Andernach, Germany
    1. Date of Death:
      March 9, 1994
    2. Place of Death:
      San Pedro, California
    1. Education:
      Los Angeles City College, 2 years

Read an Excerpt

Slouching Toward NIRVana

New Poems
By Bukowski, Charles

Ecco

ISBN: 0060577037

My Close Call

not a good fighter, he managed to get into some brutal
back-alley fights.

because of his darkened mind and too much to drink, he always
picked the biggest meanest fucker he could find.
winging and catching shots to the shouts of the
whore bystanders, he took some lovely beatings some
of the time.

"Hank," his best friend told him one night, "we want you to join
the gang."

"I can't."

"can't? why?"

"I got something else to do ..."

2 days later one of the gang was wounded in a police
shoot-out and 2 others killed,
including his friend.

he went to a bar 3 blocks east, sat waiting for
an answer, sat waiting for
the moon to change into the sun,
sat waiting patiently for one thing
or another. Continues...


Excerpted from Slouching Toward NIRVana by Bukowski, Charles Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Read More Show Less

Table of Contents

A 4th of July in the early 30's 3
Without stress or agony 9
My close call 12
Clothes cost money 13
An easy way to die 17
We have hand guns around here 19
Making do 20
Rare indeed 27
The poet 28
Bolero 31
A winter memory 34
Living in a great big way 36
Then and now 37
How did they get their job? 44
Paper and people 45
Writer's block 49
Disorder and early sorrow 51
In this place 54
The uninitiated 55
Cicada 57
Never interrupt a writer at work 58
Oh my 59
Meeting them 60
No eulogies, please 62
Finality 64
The machinery of loss 65
Damsels of the night 69
Forewarned 74
She lost weight 75
Military surplus 76
A difficult woman 79
Talk 81
Where the action is real 83
Academy award? 86
Beach boys 88
I'm no good 90
Friend of the family 92
Solving a crime before it begins 94
Note for my wall 96
The wine that roared 97
2:07 a.m 101
A clean, well-lighted place 105
Do we really care? 108
For crying out loud 111
High school girls 113
Emergency 115
For a woman who might some day become a nun 116
Some people ask for it 117
Against the window pane 119
An answer to a day's worth of mail 121
New York, New York 122
The knife waltz 125
Dusty shoes 126
Vulgar poem 128
This one 134
The big lonely night 140
One a.m. 145
The curse 147
With his awful teeth 149
Golden boy 151
Surreal tangerines 153
Little magazines and poetry chapbooks 155
My buddy 156
Last Friday night 158
Open here 160
A name is nothing if the named is nothing 161
The stupidest thing I ever did 163
You can't make a lion out of a butterfly 165
I don't know about you but 168
It's a drag just breathing 172
A hard lesson 175
A conversation to remember 177
Picture show 178
He played first base 179
The suicide kid 181
Snake eyes and faulty screams 183
I fought them from the moment I saw light 184
Now, Ezra 187
Concession 189
It 190
Terror 191
My rosy ass 193
This is a bitter poem 196
Poem for nobody 199
Checkmate 201
The tide 202
To hell and back 210
Something's knocking at the door 212
Regardless 214
The dandy 219
I am a mole 221
Somebody else 222
IBM selectric 224
Why oh why and oh why not? 227
Movies 228
No luck at all 229
Good news 232
Bedpan nightmare 234
Robert 237
Private screening 239
As you slow down the mermaids look the other way 241
Something new 243
The swimming pool 244
The great writer 246
I used to think 247
From the department of health 249
Working out 251
My friend William Burroughs 252
A note upon starvation 254
Poem for my 70th birthday 256
You'll never know 257
Joe 259
Top gun 263
It's strange 264
Explosion 266
Small talk 268
Basic 270
Read More Show Less

First Chapter

Slouching Toward Nirvana
New Poems

My Close Call

not a good fighter, he managed to get into some brutal
back-alley fights.

because of his darkened mind and too much to drink, he always
picked the biggest meanest fucker he could find.
winging and catching shots to the shouts of the
whore bystanders, he took some lovely beatings some
of the time.

"Hank," his best friend told him one night, "we want you to join
the gang."

"I can't."

"can't? why?"

"I got something else to do ..."

2 days later one of the gang was wounded in a police
shoot-out and 2 others killed,
including his friend.

he went to a bar 3 blocks east, sat waiting for
an answer, sat waiting for
the moon to change into the sun,
sat waiting patiently for one thing
or another.

Slouching Toward Nirvana
New Poems
. Copyright © by Charles Bukowski. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 2 )
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Sort by: Showing 1 – 3 of 2 Customer Reviews
  • Posted July 1, 2011

    Love

    Bukowski is the best writer ever

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 6, 2009

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 14, 2009

    No text was provided for this review.

Sort by: Showing 1 – 3 of 2 Customer Reviews

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