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TTRH3.15 Bob Dylan TTRH Season 3 Ep 15 ‘Madness’




Bob Dylan’s Theme Time Radio Hour

Season 3

Episode 15

Madness (special extended show)

Original Airdate February 4, 2009

(Streaming Country Pie Vers.)

Mp3 @ 256 kbps/ 186 MB/ RS + ES

Absolute Sound Recorder > Sound Forge 6.0 > FLAC Frontend


Theme Time Radio Hour, your home for crazy
Dreams, loopy Themes and psycho Schemes

I have seen the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness

– Allen Ginsberg

Great wits are sure to madness near aligned

-William Shakespeare



Crazy
Crazy for feeling so lonely
I’m crazy
Crazy for feeling so blue

I knew
Youd love me as long as you wanted
And then someday
Youd leave me for somebody new

Worry
Why do I let myself worry
Wondrin
What in the world did I do

Crazy
For thinking that my love could hold you
I’m crazy for tryin
Crazy for cryin
And Im crazy
For lovin you

– Willie Nelson


Do vague acquaintances treat you as they know you far better than you would expect?


If craziness was a continent this would be the National Anthem.


Few things go together as well as Country and Western music and madness






It’s so relieving
To know that you’re leaving as soon as you get paid
It’s so relaxing
To hear that you’re asking whenever you get your way
It’s so soothing
To know that you’ll sue me, this is starting to sound the same

I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad

In her false witness, we hope you’re still with us,
To see if they float or drown
My favorite patient, a display of patience,
Disease-covered Puget Sound
She’ll come back as fire, And burn all the liars,
leave a blanket of ash on the ground

I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad

It’s so relieving
To know that you’re leaving as soon as you get paid
It’s so relaxing
To know that you’re asking wherever you get your way
It’s so soothing
To know that you’ll sue me, this is starting to sound the same

I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad
I miss the comfort in being sad

– Kurt Cobain




Time flies where you’re talking crazy



I’m getting excited again. Let’s just play the record.




I consider William Faulkner to be the Mose Allison of Jazz




Step right up and buy a bottle now folks!




In a buildin’ tall with a stone wall around
there’s a rubber room
When a man sees things and hears sounds
that’s not there
He’s headed for the rubber room
Illusions in a twisted mind
to save from self-destruction
hmm it’s the rubber room
Where a man can run into the wall
till his strength makes him fall and lie still
And wait for help in the rubber room
From his blurry vision of doom
a psycho in the rubber room
The man in the room right next to mine
screams a woman’s name
hits the wall in vain
He’s in the rubber room
I hear footsteps poundin’ on the floor
God I hope they don’t stop at my door
Hmm I’m in the rubber room
Now they’ve come to get me but they find
I’m a screamin’ pretty words tryin’ to make ’em rhyme
I’m n the rubber room hmm
a psycho I’m in the rubber room hmm


– Porter Wagoner





I’m almost frightened to go to the phones but I think we should



Farewell Frances. Farewell Kurt.



Tracklisting

01 Opening
02 Crazy – Patsy Cline
03 “Patsy, Socrates and Plato”
04 I’m Nuts About Screwy Music – Jimmie Lunceford
05 “Harry Partch”
06 Nervous Breakdown – Eddie Cochran
07 “Medicine Show Tonic”
08 I’ll Go Crazy – James Brown
09 Relaxin’ At Camarillo – Charlie Parker
10 Phone Call
11 Madness – Prince Buster
12 “Bill Gaines”
13 “Manic Depression”
14 You’re Driving Me Crazy – Peggy Lee
15 “Gaslight”
16 Crackin’ Up – Bo Diddley
17 “Jimmy Pearsall”
18 “Bob Cracks Up”
19 (Like Me) You’ll Recover In Time – Johnny Paycheck
20 Twisted – Annie Ross
21 “Pretzels”
22 I’m Going Crazy – The Tibbs Brothers
23 The Mad Bomber – The Mighty Sparrow
24 Crazy Mixed Up World – Little Walter
25 “Bedlam”
26 Blow Top Blues – Dinah Washington
27 “Bellevue”
28 The Rubber Room – Porter Wagoner
29 “Mental Illness Treatments”
30 “Napolean The 14th”
31 Hooray, Hooray, I’m Going Away – Beatrice Kay
32 “Ken Kesey”
33 Crazy House – Redd Foxx
34 Lost Mind – Mose Allison
35 “Alzeimers Disease”
36 “Leon Payne”
37 Psycho – Jack Kittel
38 “Frances Farmer”
39 Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle – Nirvana
40 Closing/End Credits

Next week: Happiness

Here she be Dylanite dogs !


The full show on one mp3;

(wrongly labelled as 1999 instead of 2009):

http://www.sendspace.com/file/erstei

Various individual show components recorded as individual mp3s;

3.15_TTR_Madness_4-2-2009.zip



Big thanks to blindwilly / charlespoet!




February 13, 2009 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, TTRH Season 3, _ART, _BOB DYLAN, _Bob Dylan's Theme Time Radio Hour, _MUSIC, _POETRY | Leave a comment

Tom Waits – Flower’s Grave

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by klemenjero

Video tribute to Charles Bukowski – the greatest writer of recent times – via Tom Waits‘ magnificent Flower’s Grave from his fine 2002 soundtrack to the Robert Wilson adaptation “Alice”.


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by iangilman

Out Of The Arm Of One Love… by Charles Bukowski

out of the arm of one love
and into the arms of another
I have been saved from dying on the cross
by a lady who smokes pot
writes songs and stories
and is much kinder than the last,
much much kinder,
and the sex is just as good or better.
it isn’t pleasant to be put on the cross and left there,
it is much more pleasant to forget a love which didn’t
work
as all love
finally
doesn’t work …
it is much more pleasant to make love
along the shore in Del Mar
in room 42, and afterwards
sitting up in bed
drinking good wine, talking and touching
smoking
listening to the waves …

I have died too many times
believing and waiting, waiting
in a room
staring at a cracked ceiling
wating for the phone, a letter, a knock, a sound …
going wild inside
while she danced with strangers in nightclubs …
out of the arms of one love
and into the arms of another
it’s not pleasant to die on the cross,
it is much more pleasant to hear your name whispered in
the dark.





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by riobranden


Someday the silver moon and I will go to dreamland
I will close my eyes and wake up there in dreamland
And Tell me who will put flowers on a flower’s grave?
Who will say a prayer?

Will I meet a China rose there in dreamland?
Or does love lie bleeding in dreamland?
Are these days forever and always?

And if we are to die tonight
Is there a moonlight up ahead?
And if we are to die tonight
Another rose will bloom

For a faded rose
Will I be the one that you save?
I love when it showers
But no one puts flowers
On a flower’s grave

As one rose blooms and another will die
It’s always been that way
I remember the showers
But no one puts flowers
On a flower’s grave

And if we are to die tonight
Is there a moonlight up ahead?
I remember the showers
But no one puts flowers
On a flower’s grave

by Tom Waits/Kathleen Brennan

Tom Waits – “Flower’s Grave”

* Tom Waits – Vocal, Piano, Pump Organ
* Larry Taylor – Bass
* Matt Brubeck – Cello
* Dawn Harms – Violin
* Bebe Risenfors – Alto Viola, Clarinet

thanks to kemicsound

Mail us: stupidand@gmail.com

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December 4, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, Tom Waits, _ART, _MUSIC, _PHOTOGRAPHY, _POETRY, _VIDEO | Leave a comment

The Nobel Prize in Literature – an Alternative Universe

Interesting piece below from greatbooksguide talking about the crazy world of the Nobel Prize for Literature and suggesting alternative, and potentially more worthy, winners than those awarded the prize.

We need to say that it’s absolutely shameful that the greatest novelist of the modern era, James Joyce – one of the key founders of modernism and a writer who has to some extent influenced every writer who came after – has not won the Nobel Prize.

It’s now 86 years since the greatest novel of all time, Ulysses, was first published by Sylvia Beach. For that work alone, he should deserve the prize – let alone for other great works like Dubliners, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and the uber-experimental masterpiece Finnegans Wake, as well as his great poetry and other works.

The situation is crazy. Why can the Nobel Committee not award the prize to Joyce now, even at this stage? Better late than eternally dumb!!

https://i2.wp.com/www.focusdep.com/images/Charles_Bukowski_1179083278051369.jpg

Shameful too that Charles Bukowski, one of the greatest writers of the past 50 years (not only as novelist but as short story writer, poet, screen-writer and non-fiction writer too) and Bob Dylan, one of the greatest poets of modern times, have also not won.

Not far behind would be the marvelous Hubert Selby Jr and the great John Fante!

These great artists, however, created works that are far outside what the culture nazis and the cobwebbed world of academia narrow-mindedly, and insanely, consider “proper literature”!

So fuck academia and let’s have a gander at the great Bukowski in action, speaking about a not dissimilar topic!

Ted Gioia came up with the list below of winners from an alternative reality!

A few interesting names I would agree with. However, there are quite a few odd choices in there!

Some of them are very odd indeed! Prime amongst which would be JK Rowling! If Rowling ever wins a Nobel, I will do a Kurt Cobain with a shotgun!!

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Article below from http://www.greatbooksguide.com/altnobel08.html

The Nobel Prize in Literature from an Alternative Universe (2008)
– by Ted Gioia

Note: In 2007, I wrote an article on what the Nobel Prize in Literature might look like in an alternative universe. This little piece generated a surprising amount of discussion and debate (see original article here).

The premise was simple. As I wrote then: “Imagine a world in which such honors are exempt from pettiness, politics and tokenism. Imagine a Nobel Prize in which the contributions of Proust, Kafka, Nabokov and Joyce are not forgotten. Imagine a Nobel Prize in Literature in which genre writers have a chance. Imagine a Nobel Prize in Literature that doesn’t bend over backward to exclude native born U.S. writers (only three honored during the last 52 years!).”

These words seem even more relevant to me now than they did a year ago. But no matter how bad the Nobel decisions might look, at least I have my alternative universe. The judges at the Swedish Academy are smarter than you think. They really out-did themselves this year by orchestrating a clever disinformation campaign attacking all American novelists across the board (that was a giveaway right then, my friends)—then they turn around and give the award to Don DeLillo. They are a sly bunch!

Of course, I saw it coming all along.

Secretary of the Swedish Academy Horace Engdahl may have fooled everyone else, but when I heard his recent rant on the broad-mindedness and lack of insularity of European culture, I knew immediately that thiswas comedy and performance art ofthe highest quality. After all, a recentsurvey to pick the best Swedishworks of fiction of all time had Pippi Longstocking in fourth place. Say no more. We don’t even need to get into the topic of Mohammed and newspaper cartoons.

You have to give Engdahl credit for keeping a straight face even while he performed his little skit. He is a real wit and knows how to pull your leg—sort of the Borat of serious literature. Yet it’s amazing how many people took the bait. Some folks were even predicting the award would go to Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clezio of France—as a way of demonstrating the Academy’s commitment to anti-insularity. Huh? That would be like going to Alaska to find a running mate . . .

DeLillo is a brilliant choice. In a few days, he will turn 72, and he has written fifteen novels, including classics such as White Noise and Underworld. No contemporary writer has a better feel for dialogue or is less . . . well, insular. His critique of the banality and dehumanization of American life is much more incisive and interesting than anything you will hear in the hallowed halls of the Svenska Akademien.

I know I should be celebrating the event, but I can’t help wondering what the Swedish Academy has in store next year.

How can they top this one, with its real-life meta-fiction angles.

Fool me once, Mr. Engdahl, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Below is a complete list of past winners of the Nobel Prize in Literature from an alternative universe.

Year Actual Winner
Alternative Reality Winner
1901 Sully Prudhomme Leo Tolstoy
1902 Theodor Mommsen George Meredith
1903 Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson Anton Chekhov
1904 Frédéric Mistral, José Echegaray Jules Verne
1905 Henryk Sienkiewicz Henrik Ibsen
1906 Giosuè Carducci Mark Twain
1907 Rudyard Kipling Rudyard Kipling
1908 Rudolf Eucken John Millington Synge
1909 Selma Lagerlöf August Strindberg
1910 Paul Heyse W.S. Gilbert
1911 Maurice Maeterlinck Henry James
1912 Gerhart Hauptmann William Dean Howells
1913 Rabindranath Tagore George Trakl
1915 Romain Rolland Guillaume Apollinaire
1916 Verner von Heidenstam Sigmund Freud
1917 Karl Gjellerup, Henrik Pontoppidan Joseph Conrad
1919 Carl Spitteler Thomas Hardy
1920 Knut Hamsun Rainer Maria Rilke
1921 Anatole France Marcel Proust
1922 Jacinto Benavente Franz Kafka
1923 William Butler Yeats William Butler Yeats
1924 Wladyslaw Reymont Miguel de Unamuno
1925 George Bernard Shaw George Bernard Shaw
1926 Grazia Deledda Arthur Conan Doyle
1927 Henri Bergson Constantine P. Cavafy
1928 Sigrid Undset Edith Wharton
1929 Thomas Mann Thomas Mann
1930 Sinclair Lewis F. Scott Fitzgerald
1931 Erik Axel Karlfeldt G. K. Chesterton
1932 John Galsworthy Zane Grey
1933 Ivan Bunin Stefan Zweig
1934 Luigi Pirandello Luigi Pirandello
1936 Eugene O’Neill Eugene O’Neill
1937 Roger Martin du Gard James Joyce
1938 Pearl Buck Virginia Woolf
1939 Frans Eemil Sillanpää Robert Musil
1944 Johannes V. Jensen W. H. Auden
1945 Gabriela Mistral George Orwell
1946 Hermann Hesse Hermann Broch
1947 André Gide André Gide
1948 T.S. Eliot T.S. Eliot
1949 William Faulkner William Faulkner
1950 Bertrand Russell Ludwig Wittgenstein
1951 Pär Lagerkvist Dorothy Parker
1952 François Mauriac Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa
1953 Winston Churchill Wallace Stevens
1954 Ernest Hemingway Ernest Hemingway
1955 Halldòr Laxness Bertolt Brecht
1956 Juan Ramón Jiménez Raymond Chandler
1957 Albert Camus Albert Camus
1958 Boris Pasternak E. M. Forster
1959 Salvatore Quasimodo Cole Porter
1960 Saint-John Perse Ian Fleming
1961 Ivo Andric William Carlos Willaims
1962 John Steinbeck John Steinbeck
1963 Giorgios Seferis Giorgios Seferis
1964 Jean-Paul Sartre Jean-Paul Sartre
1965 Mikhail Sholokhov Jack Kerouac
1966 Shmuel Yosef Agnon, Nelly Sachs Agatha Christie, Jorge Luis Borges
1967 Miguel Angel Asturias Vladimir Nabokov
1968 Yasunari Kawabata Yukio Mishima
1969 Samuel Beckett Samuel Beckett
1970 Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
1971 Pablo Neruda Pablo Neruda
1972 Heinrich Böll J.R.R. Tolkein
1973 Patrick White Lionel Trilling
1974 Eyvind Johnson, Harry Martinson John Lennon, Paul McCartney
1975 Eugenio Montale Eugenio Montale
1976 Saul Bellow Saul Bellow
1977 Vicente Aleixandre Tennessee Williams
1978 Isaac Bashevis Singer Isaac Bashevis Singer
1979 Odysseus Elytis Philip K. Dick
1980 Czeslaw Milosz Czeslaw Milosz
1981 Elias Canetti Elias Canetti
1982 Gabriel García Márquez Gabriel García Márquez
1983 William Golding Graham Greene
1984 Jaroslav Seifert Italo Calvino
1985 Claude Simon Philip Larkin
1986 Wole Soyinka Eugene Ionesco
1987 Joseph Brodsky Ray Bradbury, Robert Heinlein
1988 Naguib Mahfouz Salman Rushdie
1989 Camilo José Cela Theodor Seuss Geisel
1990 Octavio Paz Octavio Paz
1991 Nadine Gordimer Muriel Spark
1992 Derek Walcott Bob Dylan
1993 Toni Morrison Ralph Ellison
1994 Kenzaburo Oe Stephen Sondheim
1995 Seamus Heaney Isaiah Berlin
1996 Wislawa Szymborska Stanisław Lem
1997 Dario Fo Hunter Thompson
1998 José Saramago Roberto Bolaño
1999 Günter Grass Tom Stoppard
2000 Gao Xingjian Haruki Murakami
2001 V. S. Naipaul V. S. Naipaul
2002 Imre Kertész John le Carré
2003 J. M. Coetzee Mario Vargas Llosa
2004 Elfriede Jelinek John Updike
2005 Harold Pinter Milan Kundera
2006 Orhan Pamuk Philip Roth
2007 Doris Lessing J.K. Rowling
2008 Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clezio Don DeLillo

October 17, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, James Joyce, Marilyn Monroe, OTHER_LITERATURE, _BOB DYLAN, _OTHER, _VIDEO | 2 Comments

Charles Bukowski – 90 Minutes in Hell (1977)

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Charles Bukowski – 90 Minutes in Hell (1977)
Relax … 90 Minutes in Hell doesn’t refer to the latest Angelina Jolie pile of crap movie! Or the latest Robbie Williams piece of shit LP!


No, it’s a fantastic reading by one of the greatest poets of the 20th century, His Highness Hank Buk!

We already posted 70 Minutes in Hell. But for those people who need more than 70 minutes in hell, here’s 90 minutes in hell!

This one was actually recorded in 1966 and later issued on Steve Richmond’s Earth Records in 1977. There were supposedly 500 copies but, considering how few turn up for sale, I suspect that number may be inflated.

Bukowski reads segments from his books and has a few other great rants as well!

It’s easy to suspect when listening to these recordings that the man was quite drunk when he made them! What a shocker!

A real collectors item. Fantastic material from probably our favourite writer of all!

Tracklisting

01. Buffalo Hill
02. A little atomic bomb
03. The Hairy Hairy Test
04. An action afternoon
05. Finish
06. No Charge
07. Love is a piece of paper torn to bits
08. Song for Sadists Without a Place to Sit Down
09. Genius of the Crowd
10. Their Finest Art
11. Experience
12. May Make Paris Yet
13. Men and the Sun
14. The Japanese Wife/Bukowski Still at It
15. Freedom
16. True Story
17. The Report

Here be Hank:

http://lix.in/-319743

All thanks to Joe Taxi! Merci Bien!

Mail us: stupidand@gmail.com

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August 4, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, OTHER_SPOKEN WORD, _POETRY | Leave a comment

Charles Bukowski – 70 Minutes in Hell (1969)

https://i1.wp.com/ec2.images-amazon.com/images/P/B00009PBT7.01._SS500_SCLZZZZZZZ_V36606853_.jpg
Charles Bukowski – 70 Minutes in Hell (1969)

Relax … 70 Minutes in Hell doesn’t refer to the latest Will Smith pile of crap movie!

No, it’s a fantastic reading by one of the greatest poets of the 20th century, His Highness Hank Buk!


This is a classic 1969 recording from the late poet who said, ‘The more crap you believe, the better off you are’.

At over 69 minutes in length, this 1969 album features 20 tracks with writer Charles Bukowski reading his own work.

Tracklisting

1. Buffalo Bill
2. Little Atomic Bomb, A
3. Hairy Hairy Fist, The
4. Action Afternoon, An
5. Finish
6. No Charge
7. Love Is A Piece Of Paper Torn To Bits
8. Something For The Touts The Nuns
9. Grocery Clerks And You, The
10. Songs For Sadists Without A Place To Sit Down
11. Genius Of The Crowd, The
12. Farewell Foolish Objects
13. Experience
14. At The End Of Feet The Blackbird Walks
15. I May Make Paris In The Morning
16. Men And The Sun
17. Japanese Wife, The
18. Bukowski Still At It
19. Freedom
20. True Story

Here be Hank:

http://lix.in/-300ad0

All thanks to Joe Taxi! Merci Bien!

Mail us: stupidand@gmail.com

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August 4, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, OTHER_SPOKEN WORD, _POETRY | 2 Comments

Charles Bukowski – Like A Flower In The Rain

I cut the middle fingernail of the middle
finger
right hand
real short
and I began rubbing along her cunt
as she sat upright in bed
spreading lotion over her arms
face
and breasts
after bathing.
then she lit a cigarette:
“don’t let this put you off,”
an smoked and continued to rub
the lotion on.
I continued to rub the cunt.
“You want an apple?” I asked.
“sure, she said, “you got one?”
but I got to her-
she began to twist
then she rolled on her side,
she was getting wet and open
like a flower in the rain.
then she rolled on her stomach
and her most beautiful ass
looked up at me
and I reached under and got the
cunt again.
she reached around and got my
cock, she rolled and twisted,
I mounted
my face falling into the mass
of red hair that overflowed
from her head
and my flattened cock entered
into the miracle.
later we joked about the lotion
and the cigarette and the apple.
then I went out and got some chicken
and shrimp and french fries and buns
and mashed potatoes and gravy and
cole slaw,and we ate.she told me
how good she felt and I told her
how good I felt and we
ate the chicken and the shrimp and the
french fries and the buns and the
mashed potatoes and the gravy and
the cole slaw too.


July 25, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, Roykeanz, _POETRY | 3 Comments

Charles Bukowski – Fire Station (For Jane With Love)

Charles Bukowski – Fire Station (For Jane With Love)




May 22, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, _POETRY, _VIDEO | Leave a comment

Charles Bukowski – Raw With Love

little dark girl with

kind eyes

when it comes time to

use the knife

I won’t flinch and

I won’t blame

you,

as I drive along the shore alone

as the palms wave,

the ugly heavy palms,

as the living does not arrive

as the dead do not leave,

I won’t blame you,

instead

I will remember the kisses

our lips raw with love

and how you gave me

everything you had

and how I

offered you what was left of

me,

and I will remember your small room

the feel of you

the light in the window

your records

your books

our morning coffee

our noons our nights

our bodies spilled together

sleeping

the tiny flowing currents

immediate and forever

your leg my leg

your arm my arm

your smile and the warmth

of you

who made me laugh

again.

little dark girl with kind eyes

you have no

knife. the knife is

mine and I won’t use it

yet.

-Charles Bukowski

Art by roykeanz


May 20, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, Roykeanz, _PHOTOGRAPHY, _POETRY | Leave a comment

Charles Bukowski: Poetry and Motion

The writer has no responsibility except to jack off in bed alone and type a good page.

A wonderful, slightly sloshed, contribution by Hank to Voyager’s Poetry in Motion multimedia series from the ’90’s.

And I’m still not so good. But they’re still very bad.

May 20, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, _POETRY, _VIDEO | Leave a comment

Charles Bukowski – My First Affair With An Older Woman


when I look back now

at the abuse I took from

her

I feel shame that I was so

innocent,

but I must say

she did match me drink for

drink,

and I realized that her life

her feelings for things

had been ruined

along the way

and that I was no more than a

temporary

companion;

she was ten years older

and mortally hurt by the past

and the present;

she treated me badly:

desertion, other

men;

she brought me immense

pain,

continually;

she lied, stole;

there was desertion,

other men,

yet we had our moments; and

our little soap opera ended

with her in a coma

in the hospital,

and I sat at her bed

for hours

talking to her,

and then she opened her eyes

and saw me:

“I knew it would be you,”

she said.

then she closed her

eyes.

the next day she was

dead.

I drank alone

for two years

after that.

– Charles Bukowski

May 20, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, Roykeanz, _ART, _PHOTOGRAPHY, _POETRY | Leave a comment

Charles Bukowski – Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame

Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame


some dogs who sleep at night

must dream of bones

and I remember your bones

in flesh

and best

in that dark green dress

and those high-heeled bright

black shoes,

you always cursed when you drank,

your hair coming down you

wanted to explode out of

what was holding you:

rotten memories of a

rotten

past, and

you finally got

out

by dying,

leaving me with the

rotten

present;

you’ve been dead

28 years

yet I remember you

better than any of

the rest;

you were the only one

who understood

the futility of the

arrangement of

life;

all the others were only

displeased with

trivial segments,

carped

nonsensically about

nonsense;

Jane, you were

killed by

knowing too much.

here’s a drink

to your bones

that

this dog

still

dreams about.

by Charles Bukowski


pic; roykeanz

May 1, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, Roykeanz, _ART, _PHOTOGRAPHY, _POETRY | Leave a comment

Who In The Hell Is Tom Jones? by Charles Bukowski

Who In The Hell Is Tom Jones?

I was shacked with a

24 year old girl from

New York City for

two weeks- about

the time of the garbage

strike out there, and

one night my 34 year

old woman arrived and

she said, “I want to see

my rival.” she did

and then she said, “o,

you’re a cute little thing!”

next I knew there was a

screech of wildcats-

such screaming and scratch-

ing, wounded animal moans,

blood and piss. . .

I was drunk and in my

shorts. I tried to

seperate them and fell,

wrenched my knee. then

they were through the screen

door and down the walk

and out into the street.

squadcars full of cops

arrived. a police heli-

coptor circled overhead.

I stood in the bathroom

and grinned in the mirror.

it’s not often at the age

of 55 that such splendid

things occur.

better than the Watts

riots.

the 34 year old

came back in. she had

pissed all over her-

self and her clothing

was torn and she was

followed by 2 cops who

wanted to know why.

pulling up my shorts

I tried to explain.

April 29, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, _PHOTOGRAPHY, _POETRY | Leave a comment

Charles Bukowski – Big Night On The Town

drunk on the dark streets of some city,
it’s night, you’re lost, where’s your
room?
you enter a bar to find yourself,
order scotch and water.
damned bar’s sloppy wet, it soaks
part of one of your shirt
sleeves.
It’s a clip joint-the scotch is weak.
you order a bottle of beer.
Madame Death walks up to you
wearing a dress.
she sits down, you buy her a
beer, she stinks of swamps, presses
a leg against you.
the bar tender sneers.
you’ve got him worried, he doesn’t
know if you’re a cop, a killer, a
madman or an
Idiot.
you ask for a vodka.
you pour the vodka into the top of
the beer bottle.
It’s one a.m. In a dead cow world.
you ask her how much for head,
drink everything down, it tastes
like machine oil.

you leave Madame Death there,
you leave the sneering bartender
there.

you have remembered where
your room is.
the room with the full bottle of
wine on the dresser.
the room with the dance of the
roaches.
Perfection in the Star Turd
where love died
laughing.

February 6, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, _POETRY | Leave a comment

Charles Bukowski – Big Night On The Town

drunk on the dark streets of some city,
it’s night, you’re lost, where’s your
room?
you enter a bar to find yourself,
order scotch and water.
damned bar’s sloppy wet, it soaks
part of one of your shirt
sleeves.
It’s a clip joint-the scotch is weak.
you order a bottle of beer.
Madame Death walks up to you
wearing a dress.
she sits down, you buy her a
beer, she stinks of swamps, presses
a leg against you.
the bar tender sneers.
you’ve got him worried, he doesn’t
know if you’re a cop, a killer, a
madman or an
Idiot.
you ask for a vodka.
you pour the vodka into the top of
the beer bottle.
It’s one a.m. In a dead cow world.
you ask her how much for head,
drink everything down, it tastes
like machine oil.

you leave Madame Death there,
you leave the sneering bartender
there.

you have remembered where
your room is.
the room with the full bottle of
wine on the dresser.
the room with the dance of the
roaches.
Perfection in the Star Turd
where love died
laughing.

February 6, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, _POETRY | Leave a comment

Bob Dylan reads Bukowksi’s ‘A Radio with Guts’


Bob Dylan reads Bukowksi’s ‘A Radio with Guts’

In Series 1 of Bob’s seminal and unequalled TTRH show, in the episode themed ‘Radio’, his Bobness reads this great poem from Last Bastion hero extraordinaire, Charles Bukowski.

Here are two geniuses from the very upper echelons of the Dublindog canon.

While this Dylan/Buk thing was going on, should we perhaps have Maria Ozawa sprawled naked near a Chaim Soutine painting, watching Andrei Tarkovsky’s majestic ‘Stalker’, while humming Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’ (well, Maria is half-Canadian!!) and sipping Jameson whisky, well I think most of the Dublindog canon top echelon would be covered!

In fact, I think I shall head to Tokyo soon and beseech Maria to make this happen!

Donations are welcomed. Neither Maria, nor supreme art in general, are cheap you know!


Charles Bukowksi – A Radio with Guts


I
t was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street
I used to get drunk
and throw the radio through the window
while it was playing, and, of course,
it would break the glass in the window
and the radio would sit there on the roof
still playing
and I’d tell my woman,
“Ah, what a marvelous radio!”
the next morning I’d take the window
off the hinges
and carry it down the street
to the glass man
who would put in another pane.
I kept throwing that radio through the window
each time I got drunk
and it would sit there on the roof
still playing-
a magic radio
a radio with guts,
and each morning I’d take the window
back to the glass man.
I don’t remember how it ended exactly
though I do remember
we finally moved out.
there was a woman downstairs who worked in
the garden in her bathing suit,
she really dug with that trowel
and she put her behind up in the air
and I used to sit in the window
and watch the sun shine all over that thing
while the music played.


So, while I book my ticket to Japland, here’s Dylan reading the great Buk. poem as an intro to ‘Disc Jockey Blu
es’ by Luke Jones and his Orchestra! Enjoy!

11_Disc_Jockey_Blues.mp3

The full Dylan TTRH show on ‘Radio’ is here!

Banzai !

January 8, 2008 Posted by | Charles Bukowski, Maria Ozawa, Music_ClassicRock, _BOB DYLAN, _Bob Dylan's Theme Time Radio Hour, _MUSIC, _OTHER, _POETRY, _SPOKEN WORD | Leave a comment

Bob Dylan reads Bukowksi’s ‘A Radio with Guts’


Bob Dylan reads Bukowksi’s ‘A Radio with Guts’

In Series 1 of Bob’s seminal and unequalled TTRH show, in the episode themed ‘Radio’, his Bobness reads this great poem from Last Bastion hero extraordinaire, Charles Bukowski.

Here are two geniuses from the very upper echelons of the Dublindog canon.

While this Dylan/Buk thing was going on, should we perhaps have Maria Ozawa sprawled naked near a Chaim Soutine painting, watching Andrei Tarkovsky’s majestic ‘Stalker’, while humming Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’ (well, Maria is half-Canadian!!) and sipping Jameson whisky, well I think most of the Dublindog canon top echelon would be covered!

In fact, I think I shall head to Tokyo soon and beseech Maria to make this happen!

Donations are welcomed. Neither Maria, nor supreme art in general, are cheap you know!


Charles Bukowksi – A Radio with Guts


I
t was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street
I used to get drunk
and throw the radio through the window
while it was playing, and, of course,
it would break the glass in the window
and the radio would sit there on the roof
still playing
and I’d tell my woman,
“Ah, what a marvelous radio!”
the next morning I’d take the window
off the hinges
and carry it down the street
to the glass man
who would put in another pane.
I kept throwing that radio through the window
each time I got drunk
and it would sit there on the roof
still playing-
a magic radio
a radio with guts,
and each morning I’d take the window
back to the glass man.
I don’t remember how it ended exactly
though I do remember
we finally moved out.
there was a woman downstairs who worked in
the garden in her bathing suit,
she really dug with that trowel
and she put her behind up in the air
and I used to sit in the window
and watch the sun shine all over that thing
while the music played.


So, while I book my ticket to Japland, here’s Dylan reading the great Buk. poem as an intro to ‘Disc Jockey Blu
es’ by Luke Jones and his Orchestra! Enjoy!

11_Disc_Jockey_Blues.mp3

The full Dylan TTRH show on ‘Radio’ is here!

Banzai !

January 8, 2008 Posted by | BOB DYLAN THEME TIME RADIO HOUR, Charles Bukowski, Maria Ozawa, Music_ClassicRock, OTHER_SPOKEN WORD, _BOB DYLAN, _MUSIC, _OTHER, _POETRY | Leave a comment