Some People

some people never go crazy.
me, sometimes I’ll lie down behind the couch
for 3 or 4 days.
they’ll find me there.
it’s Cherub, they’ll say, and
they pour wine down my throat
rub my chest
sprinkle me with oils.
then, I’ll rise with a roar,
rant, rage –
curse them and the universe
as I send them scattering over the
lawn.
I’ll feel much better,
sit down to toast and eggs,
hum a little tune,
suddenly become as lovable as a
pink
overfed whale.
some people never go crazy.
what truly horrible lives
they must lead.

– Charles Bukowski

Submitted by:

Tia, who says, “What? It’s perfectly normal to have a psychotic fit of rage! The nonchalant way he writes this down brings a smile to my face everytime I finish reading it, like it’s a secret we share, the way he and I feel about anger.”

Postscript:

Don’t look at me like that, people. I’m with her, there’s something cathartic about this process.
Some info on Bukowski here and a well-written article here.

The Red Wheelbarrow

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

– William Carlos Williams

Submitted by:

Tia, who says “Guaranteed to frustrate many an English teacher, WCW gets away by making you, the reader think. He doesn’t put forward his ideas, no, he leaves it to you. The sparse text could mean, or not mean, a number of things. Almost a random observation, this one. But his masterpiece.”

Postscript:

More about the poem itself here. This also reminds me of this poem, which refers to it and gently pokes fun of it. I think you aren’t an institution until this happens, no?

Witchcraft in Vraj

I saw witchcraft tonight in Vraj.
A wandering gopi came face to face with Shyam.
Sakhi, she is babbling now,
Can no longer say “milk”.
“Come get Shyam, Shyam,
A pot full of Shyam!”
In the overgrown lanes of Vrindavan
Shyam Manohar fixed His eye on this girl,
then departed.
Meera’s Lord is hot, lovely and dark;
Tonight she saw witchcraft in Vraj.

– Meerabai
Translated by Robert Bly