Be Carefull Brown Eyes

Un lobo de estepas enormes me acompaña.
su vigilia es imperceptible.
Es un gran lobo.

Seres incautos reproducen demagogias mediocremente.
Lástima por tales mentes. Shame on them.



What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.
I know my fire.



assault
by Charles Bukowski

"...
pain walks through the shadows of this room.
I can feel it in my arms,
I can hear it rattling in my cheap air cooler.

I remember things and get up and walk about.
I can't stop walking
from one edge of the room to the other.

I was once a man content to be alone.
now I have been broken open,
everything has edges.

...

they brought me out of myself.
they are working on me.
the onslaught is furious and relentless
and without sound.

I have given my pain a name.
I call it "Assault."

Assault, I say, will you please go out for a walk
and leave me alone?
will you please go out for a walk and
get run over by a train?

...

Assault, I say, do you want something to eat?
were you once a racehorse?
why don't you
sleep?
take a rest?
die?

Assault follows me across the room
he leaps on my shoulders and shakes me.

Lorca was shot down in the road but here
in America the poets never anger anybody.
the poets don't gamble.

...

I'm aware of my age, I say with some dignity.

yes, and aware of death too.
you're going to die and
you don't know where you're going
but I'm coming along with you.

you rotten bastard, I say, why are you
so fond of me?

...

ah, my companion!
we bathe together, sleep together, eat
together, we
open letters together.
we write poems together.
we read poems together.

I don't know if I am Chinaski or
Assault.

some say I love my pain

yes, I love it so much I'd like to give it to you
wrapped in a red ribbon
wrapped in a bloody red ribbon
you can have it
you can have it all.
I'll never miss it.

I'm working on getting rid of it, believe me.

I might jam it into your mailbox
or throw it into the back seat of your car.

..."

I know my name, I know my pain, nobody has to remember me that.

He's a waste of time,
I know but he knew me once.

Pab Pab Pab
In In In

Shhhhhhhh. Easy boy, those words might come to get you back and surely you don't want that.

This pain-poem is for you.
You don't know a thing, not a thing,
and that might be your ticket to judge, your insolence,
ignorance is blessing you,
don't you notice?
I know you know you don't notice.
Your careless is admirable,
it's a shame I will never learn your technics,
I'd be a terrible student.

There are no voices hearing your words,
I didn't create what you saw and I'm glad I didn't.
You sounded as the great clown you are,
at least there's still something good about you.
But I'm with them, doing what you call
a show, and I don't make a mess of what they do
I have a value, I can respect.

There are worse shows going around you,
lifting you from your legs and
you are surely happy for that.
It must be nice to see the world upside down
and being shaken all the time, you most feel ticklish.
It makes you say stupid things.

I come from another place
where you don't read your name outloud
to say hello, a vanilla smile is a stronger welcome.

No regrets, be yourself while you walk over your own fire.
Do you know you are over fire?

Be carefull brown eyes.