Dead Poets & Old Punks
Jun. 23rd, 2004 03:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonALONE WITH EVERYBODY
Charles Bukowski
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
much
and nobody finds the
one
but they keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bones and the
flesh searches
for more then
flesh.
there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.
nobody ever finds
the one.
the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
nobody else
fills.
STRANGER THAN KINDNESS
Nick Cave
Stranger than kindness
Bottled light from hotels
Spilling everything
Wet hand from the volcano
Sobers your skin
Stranger than Kindness
You caress yourself
And grind my soft cold bones below
Your map of desire
Burned in your flesh
Even a fool can come
A strange lit stair
And find a rope hanging there
Stranger than kindness
Keys rain like heaven's hair
There is no home there is no bread
We sit at the gate and scratch
The gaunt fruit of passion
Dies in the light
Stranger than kindness
Your sleeping hands journey
The loiter
Stranger than kindness
You hold me so carelessy close
Tell me I'm dirty
Stranger than kindness
When the muse is frigid, and my inspiration is out hustling
for a buck, I usually turn to these two.
Right now I need 48 hours of sleep, I need the love of a good woman or to be loved by a bad one, I need to make more money just to be broke, but most of all I need the poetry to flow through my blood again.
P.S. - Is there a site out there w/Nick Cave's Poems. I can find his songs, but nothing out of King Ink.
Charles Bukowski
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
much
and nobody finds the
one
but they keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bones and the
flesh searches
for more then
flesh.
there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.
nobody ever finds
the one.
the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
nobody else
fills.
STRANGER THAN KINDNESS
Nick Cave
Stranger than kindness
Bottled light from hotels
Spilling everything
Wet hand from the volcano
Sobers your skin
Stranger than Kindness
You caress yourself
And grind my soft cold bones below
Your map of desire
Burned in your flesh
Even a fool can come
A strange lit stair
And find a rope hanging there
Stranger than kindness
Keys rain like heaven's hair
There is no home there is no bread
We sit at the gate and scratch
The gaunt fruit of passion
Dies in the light
Stranger than kindness
Your sleeping hands journey
The loiter
Stranger than kindness
You hold me so carelessy close
Tell me I'm dirty
Stranger than kindness
When the muse is frigid, and my inspiration is out hustling
for a buck, I usually turn to these two.
Right now I need 48 hours of sleep, I need the love of a good woman or to be loved by a bad one, I need to make more money just to be broke, but most of all I need the poetry to flow through my blood again.
P.S. - Is there a site out there w/Nick Cave's Poems. I can find his songs, but nothing out of King Ink.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
try this....
on 2004-06-23 01:49 pm (UTC)-nemesis
Re: try this....
on 2004-06-24 08:11 am (UTC)Re: try this....
on 2004-06-24 08:26 am (UTC)Re: try this....
on 2004-06-24 08:49 am (UTC)Re: try this....
on 2004-06-24 09:49 am (UTC)no subject
on 2004-06-25 01:01 pm (UTC)Liza