Bukowski Reads his Poem "The Crunch" (Love is a dog from Hell - 1977 Collection)
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- Опубліковано 29 лип 2017
- The Crunch is a poem by Charles Bukowski. This version is one of three different versions and was published in 1977, part of the collection 'Love Is a Dog from Hell' . The original version of the crunch was published in Second Coming magazine in 1977.
The Crunch
Love is a Dog From Hell - 1977
---
too much
too little
too fat
too thin
or nobody.
laughter or
tears
haters
lovers
strangers with faces like
the backs of
thumb tacks
armies running through
streets of blood
waving winebottles
bayoneting and fucking
virgins.
an old guy in a cheap room
with a photograph of M. Monroe.
there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock
people so tired
mutilated
either by love or no love.
people just are not good to each other
one on one.
the rich are not good to the rich
the poor are not good to the poor.
we are afraid.
our educational system tells us
that we can all be
big-ass winners.
it hasn't told us
about the gutters
or the suicides.
or the terror of one person
aching in one place
alone
untouched
unspoken to
watering a plant.
people are not good to each other.
people are not good to each other.
people are not good to each other.
I suppose they never will be.
I don't ask them to be.
but sometimes I think about
it.
the beads will swing
the clouds will cloud
and the killer will behead the child
like taking a bite out of an ice cream cone.
too much
too little
too fat
too thin
or nobody
more haters than lovers.
people are not good to each other.
perhaps if they were
our deaths would not be so sad.
meanwhile I look at young girls
stems
flowers of chance.
there must be a way.
surely there must be a way that we have not yet
though of.
who put this brain inside of me?
it cries
it demands
it says that there is a chance.
it will not say
"no."
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the realest saddest and loniest contemporary poems that a man can relate to comes to Bukowski.
The world doesn't need any more bukowski but thats what the world will get, and thank god for that.
Bukowski knew....
He understood psychology. It’s fundamental in understanding truth.
The Big Bukowski..
He can kill your mind and feed your heart at the same time..
I think its vice versa.
@mansourovichhan Sort of. Depends on what mood he was in. Hell, in this poem here he even goes back and forth between hardened cynicism and more of a weepy-eyed hope... "People are not good to each other. People are not good to each other." "Who put this brain inside me? ...It will not say NO." I guess he couldn't let go of the dream...
Charles Bukowski is a genius.
We could sure use him today.
I miss you Charles.
I love listening (and reading) to Charles Bukowski...
smells like - TRUTH.
I love this poem so much. I've memorized it and say it to myself sometimes.
Story of my life
@@joshrich6814 I’ll take you home
@@joshrich6814 one you can change, the pen is still moving.
@@redsol3629 very true, it's hard to dig out of the splotch on the page but I've found that moving helps. Once out of the splotch. The words are written again.
Me too you glorious person...me too. It's fucking brilliance isn't it
The best thing I heard from this man"Some people think hatred is strength.
This is the best poem I've heard
The crunch
Charles Bukowski
Too much too little
Too fat
Too thin
Or nobody
Laughter or
Tears
Haters
Lovers
Strangers with faces like
The backs of
Thumb tacks
Armies running through
Streets of blood
Waving winebottles
Bayoneting and fucking
Virgins
An old guy in a cheap room
With a photograph of M. Monroe
There is a loneliness in this world so great
That you can see it in the slow movement of
The hands of a clock
People so tired
Mutilated
Either by love or no love
People just are not good to each other
One on one
The rich are not good to the rich
The poor are not good to the poor
We are afraid
Our educational system tells us
That we can all be
Big-ass winners
It hasn't told us
About the gutters
Or the suicides
Or the terror of one person
Aching in one place
Alone
Untouched
Unspoken to
Watering a plant
People are not good to each other
People are not good to each other
People are not good to each other
I suppose they never will be
I don't ask them to be
But sometimes I think about
It
The beads will swing
The clouds will cloud
And the killer will behead the child
Like taking a bite out of an ice cream cone
Too much
Too little
Too fat
Too thin
Or nobody
More haters than lovers
People are not good to each other
Perhaps if they were
Our deaths would not be so sad
Meanwhile I look at young girls
Stems
Flowers of chance
There must be a way
Surely there must be a way that we have not yet
Thought of
Who put this brain inside of me?
It cries
It demands
It says that there is a chance
It will not say
"no."
Perfection in its imperfect state of being !
Beautiful...!!! ❤
des mecs comme ca on en manque en 2024.
❤ nice video, keep it up
keep sharing ❤
I like the other version too but nothing like hearing the author read something himself.
What a prick. I love him.
no. not a prick. the opposite in fact.
@@rekostarr7149 Nah, he was a prick lol but a loveable one with a huge heart
the best
Bukowski was right when he said,
"One of these days people will say Bukowski was right."
Is that redundant?
Perfect
U'll never get it.
Does anyone know if there is a full length reading or interview of this footage?
THE CHARLES BUKOWSKI TAPES
Barbet Schroeder
France-Pologne / 1982
Jesus
He was the kind of guy that would pee and shit himself and go without taking a bath for weeks until the maggots started nibbling at him.
What does that mean
You made all that shit
That’s fucked up,
You are as shallow as spit on a doornob
I guess he was a great poet but not a great reciter and there are many adaptations of his original“crunch”
This is exactly how this poem is meant to be read. He wrote it after all.
You're wrong, but okay
A poet knows how his work sounds as it flows through him…from his soul, through his brain, then the blood through his heart, to his arm to the fingers to the page. He knows how he wants it to sound.
I hate Bukowski. Now read another one.
His entire life would have been better (for him specifically) if he had faith in God. Surely it would've been boring but the one thing he craved was the one thing he wouldnt accept. It's sad but seeing that he was cheerful even then, still, is impressive.
BILLI CREW wtf are you talking about
Chup Khate
distill yeah no
Pain is a forge.
He was a bad petty thief. He wanted the world or nothing.
Gay
Actually the poor are good to the poor. Stop drinking, and think.
What a silly, stupid thing to say
Why dont u stop breathing and think instead.
You're in a safe zone big lady..
You don't know what people do to each other in the world I'm livin..
If buk was alive he'd probably gave a middle finger to ya
That's all you got from this poem?
NO, they're not !
I like the other version too but nothing like hearing the author read something himself.