About book The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over The Hills (2002)
Reviewing Bukowski by summarizing what he wrote about tends to make a reviewer sound more than a little off to people who are not familiar with his work. All I know for certain is that no other writer has ever felt as real as Bukowski does to me. Both of his feet are grounded in harsh, and at times, small-minded reality. I'm certain I've said this before, but the longer Bukowski's writing is, the less I like it, though I still enjoy everything of his that I have read. It's just that I love his poetry the most, with his short stories and novels in second. A possibly obsessive and difficult idea to read every book of poetry by Bukowski has taken root in my head but we will see how that fares.While reading this collection over the last week, I would periodically tear a piece from the receipt I was using as a bookmark and save a certain page or poem I liked or wanted to remember above all of the others. When I finished, I had no receipt and too many tiny bits of paper hanging out to mention. That is a sign of an excellent collection. Many of these poems were either darkly humorous or graphically violent. Above all else, this collection was sad. Bukowski wrote most of, if not all of these poems, after who many consider to be the great love of his life passed away. It shows. If I had not known this before reading, I would have known something had happened to the author considering the subject of many of the poems. Bukowski sounds more human here than in anything else of his I have read. A few poems did stand out slightly more than others. What a Man I Was opened the book perfectly. freedom, about a man who feels castrated by his cheating significant other and who then decides to literaly castrate himself, followed and the hits kept coming from there. Down Thru the Marching made me incredibly sad. I thoroughly enjoyed What Seems to be the Trouble Gentlemen? and 18 Cars Full of Men Thinking of What Could Have Been was deeply disturbing for some odd reason. sleeping woman was beautiful and Did I Ever Tell You, one of the longer poems, was quite interesting and funny depending on how I read it. So, read this if you like real poetry, manly poetry, honest poetry, uncomplicated and deceptively simple poetry. And because I just have to include at least one of the poems I mentioned, here is the shortest of my favorites:Down Thru the Marchingthey came down thru the marching,down thru St. Paul, St. Louis, Atlanta,Memphis, New Orleans, they camedown thru the marching, thruballoons and popcorn, past drugstoresand blondes and whirling cats,they came down thru the marchingscaring the goats and the kids inthe fields, banging against the mindsof the sick in their hot beds, anddown in the cellar I got out thecolt. I ripped a hole in the screenfor better vision and when the legscame walking by on top of my head,I got a colonel, a major and 3 lieutenantsbefore the band stopped playing;and now it's like a war, uniformseverywhere, behind cars and brush,and plang plang plangmy cellar is all fireworks, and Ifire back, the colt as hot as abaked potato, I fire back and singsing, "Mine eyes have seen the gloryof the coming of the Lord; He istramping out the vintage..."
I don't often read poetry. I'm more drawn to novels, stories with clear explanations or non-fiction about social issues. The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over the Hills is the first book of poetry I've read this year - and it reminded me that I should read more. See, the great thing about poetry is its major focus on distilling thoughts and images into their purest form. The need to create a narrative line that exists in novels doesn't exist in poetry. The goal is to evoke an emotional response, not tell a story. Bukowski does have a lot of narrative poems, but this medium also produces such gripping lines as "who made me swallow my heart like a cherry."And in that line we have the dichotomy between violence and love that exists in most of Bukowski's poems in this collection. It's a dichotomy that exists in other writers of the era, including Kurt Vonnegut - one of my favorites. I wasn't alive in the first few decades after World War II, but it seems like a time of great confusion for many. While some seemed to get along just fine in the new systems that developed, others were left feeling like they weren't in on it - whatever "it" is. They saw a world uncaring for individuals who didn't want to go along with the machine of maximum efficiency. They wanted to love the world, but found it hard with constantly getting knocked down.This collection begins with poems of mourning for Bukowski's first love. This romance eventually fades to depictions of worlds I don't know. There are places out there - places of desperation and darkness - that I've had the luxury not to live in. But some that I've loved have lived there. Bukowski spends a lot of time exploring racetracks and squalid apartments. Reading these scenes doesn't give me the experience of being in those worlds, but it does give me a glimpse and a chance to reflect on the idea that not everyone has had the experiences I've had.I don't know much about Charles Bukowski. I've heard he's a misogynist, a bit of an asshole (according to Modest Mouse). But from what I've read, I don't think it's that simple. To be certain, women in many of Bukowski's poems are described only in terms of their sexuality. This isn't a healthy view - but I don't believe these women are powerless. They just don't get to share their perspectives through these poems - which, perhaps, is a lack of power. But the work of a writer can only share so much. Bukowski is a flawed man, perhaps, but for those of us who feel overwhelmed by the great machine, he - with this collection - proves to be one of the positive forces.
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The poorest Bukowski I've read. He hadn't found his own voice yet, he got into politics, tried to use surreal imagery and imitated the style of other poets (mostly part of the intellectual/academic ruling class) that he would later disown. This was published in 1969, only 8 years later he would publish Love is a Dog from Hell. In that collection he had found his own voice and developed cadences and rhythms that were distinct to him and also pleasing to read. The difference is amazing and this book is probably worth reading to understand how much Bukowski developed over the years. If you haven't read any Bukowski, or very little, I would not recommend it but if you have read several poetry collections past Love is a Dog from Hell then this is worth reading to see how he developed.
—Jay
Bukowski's raw and raunchy poetic ramblings about his drunken, prostitute-filled life on skid row LA is the opposite of what I thought I'd ever like. He tells it like it is and does not candy coat. His repulsive life style is redeemed with his many ode's to his one true love, Jane. For me, one who will hopefully never live the life that Bukowski writes about, I actually enjoy taking a mental romp down those harrowing streets and living for a few poems that dirty life, relishing the feeling that I'm doing something forbidden.
—Carrie
"Our silk-sick human smiles wrap around us like somebody else's confetti, we do not even belong to the Party."This was my first Bukowski read. I had some trouble getting into this one, as the poems are a bit uneven and scattered, but I've read that this was more of an emotional dumping for Bukowski, and he hadn't fully developed his voice yet. That being said, this was an enjoyable read.This collection offers a healthy mix of raw emotional content- not sappy, but real:"I was the lover and I cared but what I cared for was dead."Andddd some gritty humor:"I am not out to destroy all the white race, only a small part of it- myself.""...a man who cannot adjust to society is called a psychotic, and the boy in the Texas towerwho shot 49 and killed 15 was one,although in the Marine Corps he got the o.k.to go ahead- it's all in the way you're dressedand if the beehive says the projectprotects the Queen and Goodyear Rubber andsoforth,but the way I see it from this windowhis action was nothing extraordinary orunexpected and psychiatrists are just paid liarsof a continuing social disorder."And some really good points-"If death is so fearful, then life must be good?"Bukowski is a clever bastard.3.5/5
—Juliet