Chamblee54

Verified Libtards

Posted in Poem by chamblee54 on May 21, 2017

Tomb Power Pew Pop

Posted in Poem by chamblee54 on May 19, 2017

Wonder Weasel

Posted in Poem by chamblee54 on May 13, 2017

Another Round Of Charles Bukowski

Posted in Library of Congress, Poem, The English Language, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on May 12, 2017

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An internet facility (IF) called Mind Openerz recently posted a feature, Charles Bukowski’s Top 10 Tips for Living a Kick-Ass Life. Hank writes enjoyable stories and poems. This does not make him a role model. Even if the tales of degenerate lifestyle were exageratted for public consumption, as many suspect, the butt ugly drunkard is nothing to aspire to.

One thing to admire about Hank (a publisher thought that Charles would be a better selling pen name) was the volume of product. He would write dozens of poems, with the lines popping out “like hot turds the morning after a good beer drunk.” Keep the quantity up, quality takes care of itself.

Many of the rules for living were taken from his short stories. PG recently stumbled through Tales of Ordinary Madness, and recognized a few. Hank would toss words of wisdom into stories about being arrested. One time, it was for threatening to rape a lady with a codfish. You can’t beat fun at the old ballpark. Of course, Hank hated baseball, and hated poetry that rhymes. PG writes rhyming poems, with pictures of dogs in the background. Hank is dead, and his opinion doesn’t count.

The fun starts with rule number eight. “8. Have confidence in yourself. “The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts.” You are awesome, and all you have to do to let your true talents shine is believe that fact. Have complete confidence in yourself and you might be surprised with all you can achieve.”

Several of the stories of ordinary madness involve people who think they are poets, show work to Hank, and are insulted for the lousy ouput. The line in number eight was familiar, but PG was too slack to go looking through ordinary madness to find it. This is where you ask Mr. Google for help. The full quote: “The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts, while the stupid ones are full of confidence.”


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PG sat in the workplace cafeteria and read the last line of Tales of Ordinary Madness. TOOM is a book of short stories and underground press columns, allegedly written by Charles Bukowski. This collection was published by City Lights Books, the facility of Lawrence Ferlinghetti. The poet-businessman was not admired by Mr. Bukowski.

The author was born Heinrich Karl Bukowski, on August 16, 1920, in Andernach, Rhineland-Palatinate, Germany. His Catholic parents moved to America in 1923. The name was americanized to Henry Charles Bukowski. Friends called him Hank, and his literary alter ego was Hank Chinaski. Somebody decided that Charles would look better in print.

Hank Chinaski was a hard boiled character, or so he would have you believe. He was not a teetotaler. In spite of his many excesses, Hank lived to be 74, when leukemia sent him to the likkastow in the sky. This was March 9, 1994. Eleven days later, Lewis Grizzard met his maker. Lewis was 47, the same age as Hank in much of TOOM.

You should always separate the creator from the creation. Enjoy the product, and don’t worry about the ingredients. That is the case with TOOM. The stories are reputed to be little autobiographies. (An Amazon one star commenter thinks the stories are the result of “some kind of posthumous ghost writer, and not a very good one.”)

Hank, if nothing else, was productive. He wrote thousands of poems. It is not known if they have all been published, or if anyone is drunk enough to read them. Here is a quote from a previous Chamblee54 feature, The On Time Charles Bukowski.

The writer/drunk had always been a bit of a fascination to PG. Out of the millions of useless drunks feeding the urinals of planet earth, at least one will turn out to have had literary merit… this leads to a newyorker piece about the gentleman. After nine paragraphs, and two poems, there is the phrase that set off PG…graphomaniacal fecundity. (spell check suggestion:nymphomaniac)

As best as we can figure, g.f. means that Hank wrote a lot of stuff. This is a good thing. PG operates on the notion that if you keep your quantity up, the quality will take care of itself. Hank seems to agree, spitting out product “like hot turds the morning after a good beer drunk.” He seemed to take pride in doing what Truman Capote said about Jack Kerouac…he doesn’t write, he types.

Holy drunken author synchronicity. Last summer, PG was working third shift in a midtown sweatshop. He would read a couple of stories of TOOM, then shift gears and read a bit of The Dharma Bums. At some point in the procedure, there was a collection of output from Truman Capote.
Hank Chinaski might not like PG. There is the rhyming poetry. There is buying a book of repackaged prose at a yard sale. There is the twenty five year retirement from alcohol use. This is beside the point. You have to live for what is important to you, not what a deceased barfly might think.

Pictures for the last part are from The Library of Congress. After publishing Hank Chinaski Lives on Tuesday, PG decided to repost two other pieces about Hank Bukowski.

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Why I Don’t Say The N-Word

Posted in Poem, Race by chamblee54 on May 2, 2017

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Miss Moo

Posted in Poem, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on May 1, 2017

Autological

Posted in Poem by chamblee54 on April 27, 2017

Rules For Writing

Posted in Poem by chamblee54 on April 22, 2017

Penicillin Could Procreate

Posted in Poem by chamblee54 on April 20, 2017

#NationalHaikuPoetryDay

Posted in Library of Congress, Poem, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on April 18, 2017


A day for haikus ~ A special day for poets ~ It’s snowing on Mount Fuji
A mighty voice cried ~ Get your damn hands off of me ~ You damn dirty ape
Almost stole game one ~ No shot for PG 13 ~ Series over now

An apple a day ~ two-hundred and eight dollars ~ So less than doctors
Branches rise in praise ~ Wind as music floats to heaven ~ Birds sing praises joy
cant do crack today ~ Piss test afternoon Tuesday ~ What color is blue

Climate Change is fake ~ I say as I sip a drink ~ On a Kansas beach
Creation awaits ~ Discover the world God made ~ We will be your guide
Do not woo at me ~ Do not talk during the jam ~ Please shut the fuck up

Drip drip says the rain ~ Kissing the window with soft ~ wet butterfly wings
During Good Friday ~ Learned about Satanism ~ Happy Easter Y’all
Facts are important ~ Alternative ones don’t count ~ Don’t be fooled snowflakes

Fishy sea creature ~ Made of shoes frisbees and forks ~ Earth week Washed ashore
Five syllables here ~ Seven more syllables there ~ ARE YOU HAPPY NOW
Haikus are easy ~ But sometimes they don’t make sense ~ Manufacturing

Here’s a thought for you ~ Aren’t we all time travelers? ~ We’re moving right now
I am hung over ~ I think I’m going to die ~ Never drink again
I cross two bridges ~ every day to get to you ~ and your feathered heart

I got lost somewhere ~ Between your soul and flesh ~ Ignited in flames
I really don’t see why ~ Every possible thing ~ Has a holiday
I’m a simple man ~ Mozzarella sticks keep me ~ Happy and well-fed

I’m ready to write ~ The coffee pot is empty ~ Sign or conundrum?
Khaki casket explodes ~ Fearlessly sandstorm cursing ~ Churchyard screaming eagles
Lets split the 1st bill ~ I will get the next plus drinks ~ Glass is purple pink

Life is meaningless ~ Purple monkey dishwasher ~ man Haikus are tough
little bird got sick ~ gave her nasty medicine ~ now she flies again
Lon Chaney sans legs ~ Pink tinted and grim ~ Will sing his cherished death song

My fashion stumble ~ Chip clip on cargos weakens ~ Come On laundry day
My New York #Knicks Suck ~ Don’t belong in The Garden ~ Move them to Jersey
Octopus seahorse ~ starfish Animal cookies ~ for little mermaids

“Progressives” deceive ~ The ends justify the means ~ Call out the statists
reading poetry ~ a challenging task for me ~ pass the potatoes
see purple flowers ~ shades of nature bring us joy ~ wait for more colors

She opens her eyes ~ I say good morning cutie ~ restraining order
Striped blue maroon black ~ Colors of the day that comes; ~ ends with rest and dark
Sun shining indeed ~ I hear birds chirping loudly ~ Spring is here enjoy

Swans are so graceful ~ So graceful and so carefree ~ Beautiful are they too
take this day dearest ~ take it and make it your own ~ with your light and soul
The wait is too long? ~ For pizza you’ll wait thirty ~ Cheese means more than meds

There was a burger ~ With bacon had to eat it ~ It was delicious
This is a poorly ~ written haiku from Austin ~ Texas blah blah blah
Time to get unstuck ~ Make paramount investment ~ Be the warm water

twirling round ~ dewdrops in cool grass ~ dancing barefoot in the rain
Vivid quite pensive ~ Nature’s canvas is our classroom ~ Respect all that heals
waiting all day for ~ those damned biopsy results ~ didn’t the phone ring?

Who ‘s gonna die ~ Eeny meeny miny moe ~ Kill your darlings Joe
World is caving in ~ I am under too much stress ~ Please let me relax
You like poetry? ~ Yeah me neither So I guess ~ I’ll just stop typing
yolo photgraphs ~ the library of congress ~ nineteen forty three

Frowardness

Posted in Poem by chamblee54 on April 17, 2017

Motivation Crap

Posted in Poem by chamblee54 on April 15, 2017