These are a few of my favorite things #1 (Alone With Everybody by Charles Buckowski)

English: Charles Bukowski, portrait by italian...

English: Charles Bukowski, portrait by italian artist Graziano Origa, pen&ink+pantone, 2008 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Alone With Everybody

by Charles Buckowski

the flesh covers the bone 
and they put a mind 
in there and 
sometimes a soul, 
and the women break 
vases against the walls 
and the men drink too 
and nobody finds the 
but keep 
crawling in and out 
of beds. 
flesh covers 
the bone and the 
flesh searches 
for more than 

there’s no chance 
at all: 
we are all trapped 
by a singular 

nobody ever finds 
the one. 

the city dumps fill 
the junkyards fill 
the madhouses fill 
the hospitals fill 
the graveyards fill 

nothing else 

First let me confess that I’m totally new to Charles Bukowski or his poetry or to poetry in general for that matter (I’m more of a prose person but starting today I’ve made up my mind to change this situation n to explore the elegance of poetry more n more). Having said that n having got the prelims out of our way, I really loved each n every line of this poem, each n every line spoke to me. I’m a person who is naturally drawn to the so called ‘pessimistic’ view of life, albeit I choose to call it ‘REALITY’, coming face to face with our Human predicament, I find this optimistic. That’s why I love Buddhism, that’s why I love Schopenhauer n whatever in me appreciates Buddha n Schopenhauer attracted me to this piece of poetry. ‘They sometimes put the soul’ –so significant , Humans caught up in consumerism n so called modern life have more or less lost their souls or maybe they have it but never listen to it or care to listen to it or maybe the voice of the soul is drowned in the stupid white noise that surrounds us 24*7. Caught up in the despair of life women will keep crashing the dishes n men drinking (tho it’s not so uncommon to find women  too drinking these days). We just keep living, keep hoping to find some one who will understand us, who will read n sing the song of our soul, but that never happens. Now for me this is optimistic ‘cos it explains the futility of searching someone who will really understand our deepest core, we should stop living in that false hope n count only on ourselves to be our own messiah, embracing n basking in our self-love.

P.S. : This looks like a rather philosophical dissection of a subtle poem but that is what I am, a philosopher at heart n I need to go to the crux of everything 😀


January 16, 2013. Tags: , , , , . Poetry, Reflections/Musings.

One Comment

  1. These are a few of my favorite things: #21 (About my very tortured friend Peter by Charles Bukowski) « Ritu’s Weblog replied:

    […] These are a few of my favorite things #1 (Alone With Everybody by Charles Buckowski) ( […]

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