Intentions beyond this ledge
are jagged cliffs, pine trees
and a lonely lake.
Sorrow of a lost arrow, misdirected.
It's not enough to open your hands
and say come away with me.
It's not enough to close one's eyes
and not see the painful landscape
where I once lived.
Murky water, thick as milk,
I was treading so long in.
Now the ghost is back, coming
into view--and each step closer,
just as fearful of losing again.
Grasp me, quick. Pull my nakedness
in with your warmth. Open me up to
possibilities of strength and heights
of mountains again.
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From Bukowski to Instapoetry Barfly Bukowski When Charles Bukowski entered the writing scene in 1939, he was considered an underground, low-brow writer who submitted to magazines and underground papers. Most of his themes were guttural and sexist, wearing that gritty, greasy sailor masculinity on his sleeve. He drank excessively, swore and objectified in real life as well as on paper. He was criticized for lacking metaphors, but his anecdotes were interesting as well as his raw and offensive grit. Quite opposite from academic poets, postwar poets who entered academia, he stood apart, impassioned and bitter at the fringe of society, drank and smoked his life away. Posthumously, he has gained some of the notoriety he longed for. He had produced many volumes of work, dabbling in many genres, he was championed by respectful editors in the end. Instapoet: Rupi Kaur In today’s world of social media phenomena, it’s no surprise that there may come someone with...
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