clmr
A Room of my Own
Literature, prose, poetry, words and more words...


"Open a book this minute and start reading. Don't move until you've reached page fifty. Until you've buried your thoughts in print. Cover yourself with words. Wash yourself away. Dissolve."


Creator: Tarkovskologist
index inbox
To-Virginia wordsfullofechoes
1 of 22
restless days
and
sleepless
nights 
always fighting
with all your
heart and soul
so as not
to fail at
living.

Charles Bukowski, my song


having been
born into this
strange life
we must accept
the wasted gamble of our
days
and take some satisfaction in
the pleasure of
leaving it all
behind.

Charles Bukowski, mind and heart


I have been alone but seldom
lonely.
I have satisfied my thirst
at the well
of my self
Charles Bukowski, mind and heart

and when the death struggle
begins
the last thing I wish to see
is
a ring of human faces

Charles Bukowski, mind and heart


My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
John Keats, Ode to a Nightingale”

I have a stomach ache in my lungs.
It costs me plenty to breathe enough to keep up a soul.
Fernando Pessoa

O my heart broken so excessively by me being me!
Fernando Pessoa

I need to throw up, to throw up myself …
I’m so nauseated that if I could eat the universe just to spew it into the
sink, I’d do it.

Fernando Pessoa


what’s poetry? nobody knows. it changes. it works by itself
like a snail crawling up the side of a house.
Charles Bukowski, “kaakaa & other immolations”

they say that
nothing is wasted:
either that
or
it all is
Charles Bukowski