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Come on In!

Come on In!

4.9 16
by Charles Bukowski, John Martin (Editor)

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The fourth of five new books of unpublished poems from the late, great, Charles Bukowski, America's most imitated and influential poet.

Recent features in The New Yorker and on NPR's "Morning Edition" have proven that interest in Bukowski and his works is ever present.

Charles Bukowski is considered the original.

Praise for Bukowski:



The fourth of five new books of unpublished poems from the late, great, Charles Bukowski, America's most imitated and influential poet.

Recent features in The New Yorker and on NPR's "Morning Edition" have proven that interest in Bukowski and his works is ever present.

Charles Bukowski is considered the original.

Praise for Bukowski:

"Wordsworth, Whitman, William Carlos Williams and The Beats in their respective generations moved poetry toward a more natural language. Bukowski moved it a little farther." –– LA Times Book Review, 1994

Product Details

HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:
Product dimensions:
6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.01(d)

Read an Excerpt

Come On In!

come on in

welcome to my wormy hell.
the music grinds off-key.
fish eyes watch from the wall.
this is where the last happy shot was
the mind snaps closed
like a mind snapping
we need to discover a new will and a new
we're stuck here now
listening to the laughter of the
my temples ache with the fact of
the facts.
I get up, move about, scratch
I'm a pawn.
I am a hungry prayer.
my wormy hell welcomes you.
hello, hello there. come in, come on in!
plenty of room here for us all,
we can only blame ourselves so
come sit with me in the dark.
it's half-past

this machine is a fountain

my system is always the same:
keep it loose
write a great number of
try with all your
heart and
don't worry about the

keep it going
keep it
forget about immortality
if you ever

the sound of this machine is

much paper
more desire.

hammer away and wait for lady

what a

Come On In!. Copyright © by Charles Bukowski. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

Meet the Author

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 1920 in Andernach, Germany, to an American soldier father and a German mother, and brought to the United States at the age of two. He was raised in Los Angeles and lived there for over fifty years. He died in San Pedro, California, on March 9, 1994, at the age of seventy-three, shortly after completing his last novel, Pulp.

Brief Biography

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

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Come on In 4.9 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 16 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Read the post at erin hunter res 2 from Taylor!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
My heels clicked softly as i made my way through the heavy croud, watching the host intently. Many guests were chatting with him, and he kept making them laugh as he poured dozens of bottles of cham.pagne and wi.ne for his guests. The ladies swooned over his tux, and to be honest, he didnt look all that bad compared to his normal, threatening black attire. White tuxedos made him look slightly better. But of course, i wasnt here to dance with the host. I was here for other reasons. To retrieve something. Something very valuble. Jace followed close behind me as i made my way through the elegant guests, he and i dressed to blend in with the rich and fancy. He wore a black tuxedo and a silver bowtie, complete with sleek black dress shoes and quiffed hair. I was dressed in a frilly red number; a sleeveless dress that barely fell to my knees, with shiny black heels and diamond jewels to match. I personally hated the dress, but Jace had told me it didnt look too bad. We had to look like we were of the elegant croud, anyways. So i guess it wasnt too bad. I stopped at the end of the dancing hall, surveying the scene. Several people were dancing, blocking my way to the host. My quickest way to him would be the dancefloor. You see, the host, Sir John Lee Cassette, had taken something from a high place of goverment. He had taken
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The sun shown brightly in Ponyville. Everypony galloped freely, doing their errands for the day or just hanging out with friends. All except one pony. Rainbow Dash flew through the sky, the wind blowing through her rainbow mane and tail. She twisted and turned, looped in and out between buildings. As she flew through a couple of clouds, she remembered something she had to do. Spitfire wanted her at Wonderbolt Academy by 4:00. She made a u-turn and flew full-speed toward the Academy. She suddenly noticed the sky growing darker as she progressed toward the Academy. Soon it came to sight. She saw pegasi flying around, attempting to put out severe fires. Dash quickly flew to Spitfire's office. "Good you're here," she said when Rainbow flew in. "You wanted to see me Spitfire?" Rainbow asked her. "Yes," Spitfire answered. "We need your help. You are one of the best flyers at the Academy, so I knew I could lay this job on you. Get all the pegasi to safety. Soarin will help you." The blueish white pegasus came into the room and looked at Rainbow with sparkling green eyes. "We'll do our best, ma'am," Dash said, and walked up to Soarin. "What are we waiting for?" Soarin asked her, and flew off outside. He looked back to make sure Rainbow was keeping up, then he and her started bringing the paniced pegasi to the mess hall, dodging balls of fire and shoots of lightning. When Rainbow brought the last pegasus into the mess hall, Soarin turned to her. "I'm going to fly up and check to see if we forgot anyone. You stay down here where it's safe." Concern for her safety glittered in his green eyes. Dash nodded and watched as he flew up and observed the situation. She bit her lip, watching as a lightning bolt flashed dangerously close to Soarin. Suddenly, without warning, a lightning bolt hit Soarin and he came crashing down to Earth. Rainbow gasped and fleww full speed toward him. She reached him and knelt down next to him. "Soarin, please be ok!" Dash said, as a pang of feeling hit her. "Dashie," Soarin whispered, sounding weak. "There's nothing you can do for me..." "Soarin, please don't go!" Dash whispered. She suddenly said something, something she thought she would never say to anyone, something that she really meant with all her heart. "I-I love you." (Hope you like! I so ship SoarinDash!) ~RD
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I woke up and began to cry. Day four of saddness. My big sistet was killed and now my parenspts fight over it and are getting divorced. What am i supposed to do? When your ellevn years old and going to middle school you need a big sister. I go outside and climb a tree and lay down in it. Suddenly,I saw a tiger in the branches! Not a regular one. This one was made out of Stars. I stared and it smiled and disspapeared. I went biking and took out my spirit bundle. I wrapped a lock ofmy sisters hair and her favorite shark tooth in a peice of her clothes. I always keep it close to me. I went to my friends house. She was always kind. We played for a while and then her dad came home. I went bome anlay down. When it was time for bed i snuggled down amd tere was the tiger."i will always be with you. I love ypu forevever and always. I can now bring lobe amd joy." Te tiger said. I realized it was my sister! I smuled through my tears andd hugged her. O fell asleep and when i woke up my parents had devided not to divorce! THE END..(this is how i pretend my life has been. Unlike how it really ended:() My life was without &hearts
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
"Lichenleaf!" "Lichenleaf!" The cries of BrightClan rose into the smoky violet and blue sunset blanketed skies. A small, lithe brown shecat with startling green eyes purred with pride as the clan chanted out her warrior name. A fluffy cream shecat bounded gracefully up to her. "Darling!" She mewed excitedly. "A warrior now! Ah, yes," the shecat sighed dramatically, "young warrior adolescence... all foolishness and falling in love." Lichenleaf sighed. "Moooom!" She groaned. "Puh-leeze!" The fluffy ivory colored shecat purred. "Darling, that was when l met your father. We fell for each other the second we saw each other. We used to go on romantic dates under the birch tree in camp and twine our tails together and..." Lichenleaf rolled her eyes. "Mom! Stop it!" Her mother, whose name was Butterflyleap, purred but was silent. Lichenleaf passed by the apprentice den and padded into the warriors den. She settled into a comfy moss nest and slept. Suddenly she awoke. Something was wrong. The camp was silent. She got up from her nest and peered out. She gasped. BrightClan was totally dark. No stars, no moon. Just pitch black. Fearing, she ran to her sleeping mother and gently shook her. "Mom!" Lichenleaf mewed. But no matter what she did, her mother would not wake. She tried waking each cat in the warriors den in turn, and none would wake. Lichenleaf started to tremble with fear when a warm golden light, flickering softly like candlelight, appeared before her. A cat was giving off the light, and Lichenleaf knew it was a StarClan cat. "Listen," mewed the cat. His voice was like honey and stream water slipping over stones. It sent a warm shiver through Lichenleaf's body. "The Dark forest put a spell upon this clan. We used all of our power to ensure you were the one that did not sleep because we could make one person the one who could save BrightClan. We chose you." Lichenleaf trembled. "C-can l do this?" "Yes," the StarClan cat assured her. "Go to the mountains peak for the first light. Fly at dawn down to the mountain's deepest chasm." And so she left then, carrying with her traveling herbs which she chewed along the way. And suddenly she saw: a great crest of mountains, looming high above her. A voice, a StarClan voice, smelling pleasantly of wildflowers and sunlight, whispered, yes. And so she climbed, to the highest peak just as dawn broke over the mountains. Suddenly there was a great thundering noise beneath her just as the first ray of warm light hit her face. A chasm, as prophesied, opened under her, but the sunlight from the dawn curled around her, so she was suspended in a ball of golden light. She fell, in the bubble of gold, to the chasm floor, where her feet safely touched ground. A beam of light, brighter than anything she had ever seen, hit her in the face. "This is love, and trust, and honor," mewed a StarClan voice. "Take it." Lichenleaf padded forward and the beam of light came into her chest, her throat. It burned there as the light carried her back up, and it burned still as she ran home. Gasping with joy, she awakened every clan cat. A celebration ensued and Lichenleaf was honored every hour of it. BrightClan lived on.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
When is the next contest?
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
She smiled as she watched her kits play in the clearing. It had been half a moon since she gave birth, a moon since she had betrayed her clan. She shuddered as she recalled the memory. She had fallen in love with a cat from ShadowClan. During a battle, she had saved him by killing one her own clanmates. They had run off together, not wanting to be apart any longer. ShadowClan thought her mate was dead but RiverClan was constantly looking for her, wanting to get back at her for killing one of their valuable warriors. "It's okay Sparkleflame," her mate, Brackenpelt said. "We have each other and our kits." Sparkleflame gazed into those soft brown eyes that always made her feel warm inside. To her right, she heard leaves rustling. She whipped around. "Well,well,well. If it isn't the clan traitor," said Rippleclaw, the RiverClan deputy. "I think you should better come with me. You don't want to see the death of your kits, do you?" In a flash, he was at one of her kits throat, claws unsheathed. Lips drawn back in a snarl, Sparkleflame said "fine. I'll come with you." She turned to Brackenpelt. "Goodbye, my love. Take care of our kits." She could see the mix of emotions on his face. Anger, hurt, and frusteration. Sparkleflame could stand the pain no longer. She turned around and let Rippleclaw lead her back to RiverClan. On the way, she couldn't help thinking about the clearing. Where there was peace. Where Brackenpelt's kits would be safe. -BY SILVERHEART
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Do you know what its like to be the best? Do you know what its like when you HAVE to be the best? Im ChristSHADOWtian. And Im THEBEST an Umbreon, shiny if you please. Im smart, cunning, and THEBEST an explorer. You will fid me settled upon a nice cliff face that goes by the name of Sharpedos Bluff. I spend my time saving Pokemon and such...only one problem. You see, Im not the leader. Te leader is a kind Leafeon named Chill, shes...as you may say, better than me. And we cant have that. But, I love her, so I have not...gotten rid of her. As Ive done with all he rest of my competition. I HAVE TO BE THE BEST- I think its time I told her how i feel about her...; -LATER- What hve i done?! There she is, in front of me, blood pooling around her. IMTHEBESTNOW- I cant breathe, her bloods all over my paws! I can hear her screams! Make it stop! I can feel the hot tears poolibg wn my face. LOVE?YOUCANNEVERLOVE- I put a paw to her face. Why her? I tried so hard... NEVERLOVE I cant save her... BESTBESTBEST I look back down at her, and back at my blooded paws, and it comes to me. Im the best now. THATSRIGHT Shes gone. BESTTT I dont need her. BEST I dont need love! FOREVERRR I....am...the best!! My maniacal laughter echoes through the cave, and my rings glow red. I was never loved, I can never love, and i cannot be loved. For I am....the BEST.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I started having the dreams when the outbreak first started. Dreams of a better place. Not a better place than the world I was in now, but a place...even more fantastic than before the zombies. A place where metal could grow and clocks could talk time, a place where the sun never came up but somehow it was still always lighted with ideas. It kept me alive all that time when I was a loner. The hope. ~ My father was a construction worker and my mother was a doctor. When I was five, a candle on my baby brothers birthday cake caught the house on fire, and took my mother and brother with it. We didn't mourn much. There wasn't much time. The outbreak started a week later and my papa and i were running. When I was 10, my father and I were busy on some patrols. I'd like to say that there was a blood-filled battle, but there wasn't. Only one zombie. That's all it took. One hungry member of the undead took a bite on my dad and he was gone. I watched as he gave a pistol and told me to shoot. "Shoot me before it's too late, honey. Then go back to the bunker and don't trust anyone but yourself." The gun cracked and echoed throughout the city, and I could already hear the ravenous moans. I ran and didn't look back. ~ Don't worry about me now though. I'm safely in a bunker with a nice little gaggle of people. After 8 years of being alone in an undead world, I learned one thing I'll never forget. Hope is the only thing stronger than fear. That's the key to survival. Just warning you, whoever you are. Hope. *the video turns off.*
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Roux's feet sank into the red snow with every step making impressions in the ice, almost as deep as the emptiness that took over his heart the farther he walked. The cold stung his exposed skin, but at least the frigid atmosphere kept flies away from the fresh corpses. He tugged the flimsy grey army jacket onto his shoulders more securely, tying the sleeves under his chin. The stench of blood combined with his parched throat almost made him choke, so he knelt in a patch of snow that was mostly free of stains aside from a few sprinkles of scarlet, and scooped the muddied slush to his lips, letting it trickle into his mouth as it melted in his hands. It tasted bitter so he spat most of it out, but the wetness in his mouth gave him a slight satisfaction. He glanced up across the landscape, barren until the snow and battlefield reached to the horizon where a grey compound building stood looming over its shadow, tall cylander structures spouting ash and soot that greyed the snow. Behind him was a vast pine forest, the tips white as if they had been frosted. Pushing himself to back his feet, he wiped some soot off his forehead with the back of his hand, gripping a dagger tightly in the other and running his finger along the blade as if to make sure it was still sharp and ready to be used. The sight of the daunting, gaunt faces of the victems pierced his chest and made his throat sore, so he didn't linger in one place long, making his way across the war scene. But soon he had no choice but to pause. There, among the grey clad men was a familliar face, lying in the sea of blood next to a crimson banner with the mark of the revolution. Roux recognized the insigna of the general on his jacket and the curved blade that he clutched. He knew it could only be one person. His father. Filled with rage and sorrow, he threw his dagger to the ground violently and directed his shouts of anger to the sky, his face disorting with rage. "Look what you've done? Are you happy now?!" Quivering with sobs, he dropped to his knees, hunched over with his shoulders slumped until his tears were spent. He took his father's sword, his voice shaking. "This won't be forgotten. I'll kill them all!" He impaled the blade roughly into the ground, then snatched the banner off its pole, wrapping the shredded red cloth around his neck like a scarf. A movement at the corner of his eye took him back from his thoughts into the battlefield, and he turned to see two imposing figures with forest green coats heading his way, prodding bodies with the tips of their spears to check for survivors. Spotting the boy, they exchanged loud words then started to approach him. He clenched his fists and waited for them to come. Once they were in font of him, a hand slammed into his chest violently and yanked him up by the collar of his shirt, and the hand of the first's accomplice siezed his arm violently. "We're to take any survivors and bring them in for questioning," the first growled gruffly. "Let me go!" Roux struggled frantically, but to no avail. The men just chuckled, amused. "It's no use. We've had—" the one who held Roux's collar glanced to the side, just in time to see a blade sprout from his companion's chest before his own spear was wrenched away from him and shoved into his throat. A crazed, sloppy-haired girl stood there, still staggering from when she had scrambled to her feet from among the dead. "They talk too much," she coughed, brushing off her torn jacket.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Same rules as last time.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Yo. U weird.
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