Who is Charles Bukowski

Henry Charles Bukowski ( boo-KOW-skee; born Heinrich Karl Bukowski, German: [ˈhaɪnʁɪç ˈkaʁl buˈkɔfski]; August 16, 1920 – March 9, 1994) was a German-American poet, novelist, and short story writer. His writing was influenced by the social, cultural, and economic ambience of his adopted home city of Los Angeles. Bukowski's work addresses the ordinary lives of poor Americans, the act of writing, alcohol, relationships with women, and the drudgery of work. The FBI kept a file on him as a result of his column Notes of a Dirty Old Man in the LA underground newspaper Open City.Bukowski published extensively in small literary magazines and with small presses beginning in the early 1940s and continuing on through the early 1990s. He wrote thousands of poems, hundreds of short stories a...
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Top 10 most used topics by Charles Bukowski

Love 30 I Love You 30 Never 23 Night 23 Time 23 Sun 22 Life 22 Good 22 God 20 Death 19


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Comments about Charles Bukowski

Meem_hye: charles bukowski, pass me that four square bro.
Anniejo621: 'this self congratulatory nonsense, as the famous gather to applaud their seeming greatness, as the deathly talentless bow to accolades, as the fools are fooled again'... charles bukowski
Thebeatbum: «to me it is still one man alone in a room, creating art of failing to create art. all else is bullshit..» ~charles bukowski~
Mohamma99828984: if you ask about me a hundred people, you will find a hundred opinions in front of you. charles bukowski
Dennisbhooper: don’t actually have a firm opinion on which french dip is better but cole’s is where i take people just because the location is incredible. amazingly well preserved old fashioned bar, plaques for mickey cohen and charles bukowski in the men’s room, they shot mad men there…
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Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

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