A review by annenikoline
The Last Night of the Earth Poems, by Charles Bukowski
5.0
The Last Night of the Earth Poems by Charles Bukowski is without doubt one of the best modern poetry books I have ever read in twenty years of existing. His way with words is very complicated to get around, but once the reader breaks his many linguistic codes, the reader enters a world of... I am not even sure how to describe it.
Bukowski's understanding of the world, is rather rare yet both dark and poetic in a way very few can handle the way he does it. He manage to describe feelings, rather complicated by comparing them to something very simple, something most people can somehow relate to. He also manage to turn a situation most people would find disturbing completely upside down, which is illustrated in his poem the man with beautiful eyes.
when we were kids
there was a strange house
all the shades were
always
drawn
and we never heard voices
in there
and the yard was full of
bamboo
and we liked to play in
the bamboo
pretend we were
Tarzan
(although there was no
Jane).
and there was a
fish pond
a large one
full of the
fattest goldfish
you ever saw
and they were
tame.
they came to the
surface of the water
and took pieces of
bread
from our hands.
Our parents had
told us:
“never go near that
house.”
so, of course,
we went.
we wondered if anybody
liveed there.
weeks went by and we
never saw
anybody.
then one day
we heard
a voice
from the house
“YOU GOD DAMNED
WHORE!”
it was a man’s
voice.
then the screen
door
of the house was
flung open
and the man
walked
out.
he was holding a
fifth of whiskey
in his right
hand.
he was about
30.
he had a cigar
in his
mouth,
needed a shave.
his hair was
wild and
and uncombed
and he was
barefoot
in undershirt
and pants.
but his eyes
were
bright.
they blazed
with
brightness
and he said,
“hey, little
gentlemen,
having a good
time, I
hope?”
then he gave a
little laugh
and walked
back into the
house.
we left,
went back to my
parents’ yard
and thought
about it.
our parents,
we decided,
had wanted us
to stay away
from there
because they
never wanted us
to see a man
like
that,
a strong natural
man
with
beautiful
eyes.
our parents
were ashamed
that they were
not
like that
man,
that’s why they
wanted us
to stay
away.
but
we went back
to that house
and the bamboo
and the tame
goldfish.
we went back
many times
for many weeks
but we never
saw
or heard
the man
again.
the shades were
down
as always
and it was
quiet.
then one day
as we came back from
school
we saw the
house.
it had burned
down,
there was nothing
left,
just a smouldering
twisted black
foundation
and we went to
the fish pond
and there was
no water
in it
and the fat
orange goldfish
were dead
there,
drying out.
we went back to
my parents’ yard
and talked about
it
and decided that
our parents had
burned their
house down,
had killed
them
had killed the
goldfish
because it was
all too
beautiful,
even the bamboo
forest had
burned.
they had been
afraid of
the man with the
beautiful
eyes.
and
we were afraid
then
that
all throughout our lives
things like that
would
happen,
that nobody
wanted
anybody
to be
strong and
beautiful
like that,
that
others would never
allow it,
and that
many people
would have to
die.
Normally, most people would have found the drunk man disturbing and very much unappealing, but the way Bukowski writes and makes life clear turns the entire experience up side down. I can only recommend his works, especially this one, The Last Night of the Earth Poems, to everyone who has the slightest interest in poetry, modern literature or simply Bukowski. If you have not read any of this work, this would be a significant place to start.
Bukowski's understanding of the world, is rather rare yet both dark and poetic in a way very few can handle the way he does it. He manage to describe feelings, rather complicated by comparing them to something very simple, something most people can somehow relate to. He also manage to turn a situation most people would find disturbing completely upside down, which is illustrated in his poem the man with beautiful eyes.
when we were kids
there was a strange house
all the shades were
always
drawn
and we never heard voices
in there
and the yard was full of
bamboo
and we liked to play in
the bamboo
pretend we were
Tarzan
(although there was no
Jane).
and there was a
fish pond
a large one
full of the
fattest goldfish
you ever saw
and they were
tame.
they came to the
surface of the water
and took pieces of
bread
from our hands.
Our parents had
told us:
“never go near that
house.”
so, of course,
we went.
we wondered if anybody
liveed there.
weeks went by and we
never saw
anybody.
then one day
we heard
a voice
from the house
“YOU GOD DAMNED
WHORE!”
it was a man’s
voice.
then the screen
door
of the house was
flung open
and the man
walked
out.
he was holding a
fifth of whiskey
in his right
hand.
he was about
30.
he had a cigar
in his
mouth,
needed a shave.
his hair was
wild and
and uncombed
and he was
barefoot
in undershirt
and pants.
but his eyes
were
bright.
they blazed
with
brightness
and he said,
“hey, little
gentlemen,
having a good
time, I
hope?”
then he gave a
little laugh
and walked
back into the
house.
we left,
went back to my
parents’ yard
and thought
about it.
our parents,
we decided,
had wanted us
to stay away
from there
because they
never wanted us
to see a man
like
that,
a strong natural
man
with
beautiful
eyes.
our parents
were ashamed
that they were
not
like that
man,
that’s why they
wanted us
to stay
away.
but
we went back
to that house
and the bamboo
and the tame
goldfish.
we went back
many times
for many weeks
but we never
saw
or heard
the man
again.
the shades were
down
as always
and it was
quiet.
then one day
as we came back from
school
we saw the
house.
it had burned
down,
there was nothing
left,
just a smouldering
twisted black
foundation
and we went to
the fish pond
and there was
no water
in it
and the fat
orange goldfish
were dead
there,
drying out.
we went back to
my parents’ yard
and talked about
it
and decided that
our parents had
burned their
house down,
had killed
them
had killed the
goldfish
because it was
all too
beautiful,
even the bamboo
forest had
burned.
they had been
afraid of
the man with the
beautiful
eyes.
and
we were afraid
then
that
all throughout our lives
things like that
would
happen,
that nobody
wanted
anybody
to be
strong and
beautiful
like that,
that
others would never
allow it,
and that
many people
would have to
die.
Normally, most people would have found the drunk man disturbing and very much unappealing, but the way Bukowski writes and makes life clear turns the entire experience up side down. I can only recommend his works, especially this one, The Last Night of the Earth Poems, to everyone who has the slightest interest in poetry, modern literature or simply Bukowski. If you have not read any of this work, this would be a significant place to start.