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33rd out of 172 books
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The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over the Hills
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Paperback, 208 pages
Published
June 5th 1980
by Ecco Press
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Reviewing Bukowski by summarizing what he wrote about tends to make a reviewer sound more than a little off to people who are not familiar with his work. All I know for certain is that no other writer has ever felt as real as Bukowski does to me. Both of his feet are grounded in harsh, and at times, small-minded reality. I'm certain I've said this before, but the longer Bukowski's writing is, the less I like it, though I still enjoy everything of his that I have read. It's just that I love his p...more
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This is one of my favorite poetry collections. Granted I've got some 33 books of his poetry and fiction, so it would be hard to pick a favorite, but this is one of the ones I keep going back to.
Death. Oh, and we live and strive and hunger and long and need and drink and breathe and fuck and ego rises and falls and we die, we die mostly ugly and alone, and then all that remains is the graveyard.
Okay, so the days do actually run away like that and we see them running, how beautiful and majestic, and then they are gone and we realize fleetingly that they are only beasts of flight, gone like the deer fleeing the wolf, like the mackerel hiding from the shark, in plain sight, wi...more
Okay, so the days do actually run away like that and we see them running, how beautiful and majestic, and then they are gone and we realize fleetingly that they are only beasts of flight, gone like the deer fleeing the wolf, like the mackerel hiding from the shark, in plain sight, wi...more
Definitely one of Buk's lesser lights. He's at his best when he's skirting the edge of drunkenly rambling about his life, but during this period, perhaps (in fact, almost assuredly) because he was so affected by Jane's death, the edge is not so much skirted as it is toppled from.
So, while these poems have some of Buk's rawest emotions in them, the messages are dulled by incoherency, by lost beats, by thoughts that start up halfway through and then transform into other thoughts befor...more
So, while these poems have some of Buk's rawest emotions in them, the messages are dulled by incoherency, by lost beats, by thoughts that start up halfway through and then transform into other thoughts befor...more
This was the first collection of poems I've read by Bukowski, but it won't be the last.
I really enjoyed this collection and felt that I could really get a sense of the man and his experiences through the work. That is not an easy thing for a poet, as most seem to be so obtuse and cryptic that you end up more disoriented that moved.
There were times when I simply had to stop at the end of one of these poems, or a part thereof, and just let it sink in - moved beyond the abi...more
I really enjoyed this collection and felt that I could really get a sense of the man and his experiences through the work. That is not an easy thing for a poet, as most seem to be so obtuse and cryptic that you end up more disoriented that moved.
There were times when I simply had to stop at the end of one of these poems, or a part thereof, and just let it sink in - moved beyond the abi...more
A great collection. This is a more vulnerable Bukowski, not so much the whiny abused child side I didn't care for in "Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame," but a man who feels lost and empty, still trying to deal with the death of a woman he loved and finding meaning through words.
In "For Jane," he writes: "What you were will not happen again." Who has lost who can't relate to that?
And we get just a glimpse of Bukowski the bewildered and te...more
In "For Jane," he writes: "What you were will not happen again." Who has lost who can't relate to that?
And we get just a glimpse of Bukowski the bewildered and te...more
I remember reading "Love is a Dog from Hell" summer of 2010 and really enjoying it, so I bought this book based on the title alone. It wasn't as good, but had a few memorable ones. Wouldn't suggest starting with this one however
This is my favorite collection of Bukowski so far. He's a bastard sometimes, but there's something about a Bukowski poem I can't get enough of. They're exciting, and I can never wait to finish them, I'm never bored with him.
Bukowski writes heartfelt poems to his dead love Jane Cooney.
Bukowski dares to not make sense and spew out randomness.
Bukowski clearly terrified, when he was still unknown, unloved and poor.
Bukowski dares to not make sense and spew out randomness.
Bukowski clearly terrified, when he was still unknown, unloved and poor.
Bukowski is definitely an acquired taste. Still, he occupies his niche extraordinarily well. Plus, this book has one of my all-time favorite titles.
It was okay.
Some poems I liked, most were uninspiring for me. I had a hard time relating to his way of life. I appreciate the art, however.
Some poems I liked, most were uninspiring for me. I had a hard time relating to his way of life. I appreciate the art, however.
You can smell the cigarettes and the whiskey... some of the poems are pretty bleak, but as always with Bukowski, there's a beauty underneath the grimy surface.
All Charles Bukowski poem books make a for a good read. This isn't my favourite, it's true, but it's still packed with some beautiful, grimy, profound and astonishing poems.
U2 made this book popular with the Zooropa song based upon the title poem.
I originally read this in high school. I must admit its not as good the second time around. The most powerful poems in this collection are about dead lovers, namely "With All the Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough," "For Jane," and "Remains." Yet, my personal favorite was "Spring Swan." Others I enjoyed were "Mine," "Uruguay or Hell," "Conversation on a Telephone," "Ants Crawl My Drunken Arms," "The Moment of Trut...more
Bukowski's raw and raunchy poetic ramblings about his drunken, prostitute-filled life on skid row LA is the opposite of what I thought I'd ever like. He tells it like it is and does not candy coat. His repulsive life style is redeemed with his many ode's to his one true love, Jane. For me, one who will hopefully never live the life that Bukowski writes about, I actually enjoy taking a mental romp down those harrowing streets and living for a few poems that dirty life, relishing the feeling that ...more
There's too much poetry in the world (this is true of novels and non-fiction, too, don't think I'm discriminating). It wouldn't be such a problem if poets weren't compelled to publish so much. Bruce McCulloch once said that "greatest hits albums are for housewives and little girls" but there's something to be said for books of selected poetry, at least for me, as I search in my limited time for the quintessence of someone's work. This is just to say that I've eaten two of Bukowski's...more
I hate to say it, but, meh.
good early charles
Caitie
added it
I'm surprised by how much I like Bukowski. His poems can be really beautiful and disarming.
This is the first Bukowski book I ever bought, and the date is a total guess. I read it the same year that the book store at the corner of Quay and Military opened in downtown Port Huron. That much I do know.
It's mostly poems, and of course I saw the man's name referred to somewhere so I checked it out. I expected more out of it, but then I went back to it again for the payoff. I still prefer his short stories, but the poems are good, too.
It's mostly poems, and of course I saw the man's name referred to somewhere so I checked it out. I expected more out of it, but then I went back to it again for the payoff. I still prefer his short stories, but the poems are good, too.
Not Bukowski's best but there are glimmers of the greatness that would come after this collection. It almost feels like he is searching for his voice in these works as they jump back and forth from being surreal to the realistic no nonsense poems that would come later in his life. Some of the poems actually have an ee cummings feel to them which is interesting in and of itself but I would only recommend this one to a die hard Bukowski fan.
I've read better. This is a collection of Buk's earlier works and it lacks the balls he would write with later. Cajones. Huevos. Yes, balls. It lacks them. Well, I mean, they're there, but they're like...uh, they haven't dropped yet, so to speak. Anyhow, I hope you now have a strong, virile image of a large hairy scrotum sack swaying before your face in a musky breeze...
This one of Buk's has a lot more rambling on about details then the previous books of poetry I've read by him. It is more raw, and there is more angst involved. If I hadn't have just read two of his later poetry books, I might be turned off to his poetry with this one. But I understood it better by reading those previous books, which are more refined.
I think I've read everything of Bukowski, even his drunken picture book of his trip to Poland to discover that his birth home is a brothel.
This is the soft side of Charles. These poems are just so sweet and beautiful. There is a piece of public art inbedded in the sidewalk in Portland, OR...The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over The Hills.
This is the soft side of Charles. These poems are just so sweet and beautiful. There is a piece of public art inbedded in the sidewalk in Portland, OR...The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over The Hills.
i'm pretty sure this was the first book of poems by bukowski i bought, and i can't believe that was ten years ago. that would have made me 14, and i hadn't experienced writing like that before. looking back, i may not have grasped it fully, but it influenced the way i thought and what i would come to believe poetry could be.
This was my dad's favorite book. I think he romanticized Bukowski's life. My mom brought the copy he gave to her to his funeral and then it became mine. I read it and learned so much about my father that I didn't understand. This is a fantastic book, burrowing deep into the depths of the sickly sweet Charles Bukowski.
still pretentious after all these years. Why did I think revisiting would be otherwise. The title is the best phrase of the book so save yourself some time and don;t judge a book by the cover. It will disappoint.
"For Jane: With All the Love I Had Which Was not Enough:-" is my all-time favorite Bukowski poem. It's very unlike his other work, though.... That may say something about my taste for Bukowski.
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Charles Bukowski was born in Andernach, Germany on August 16, 1920, the only child of an American soldier and a German mother. At the age of three, he came with his family to the United States and grew up in Los Angeles. He attended Los Angeles City College from 1939 to 1941, then left school and moved to New York City to become a writer. His lack of publishing success at this time caused him to g...more
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