Writer’s Quote: Charles Bukowski

Writer’s Quote: Charles Bukowski

IMG_5620

Hello again, to another Writer’s Wednesday where I share some of my favourite poems with you guys written by other authors. If you’ve been following my blog for a while now, you’d know I read a lot of Charles Bukowski’s works. I love them and I admire the realism in them, the lack of conformity with classical poetic style and the harsh truths he throws in every now and then. He is one poet who says things as they are with little sugar coating.

Below is a poem from one of his poetry books, Love is a dog from hell. I feel it reflects the situation of this world in recent times, even though this was written decades ago.My favourite lines from the entire poem are these:
the rich are not good to the rich
the poor are not good to the poor.

And that is just the truth.

Charles Bukowski- Love Is a Dog from Hell

there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock.

people so tired
mutilated
either by love or no love.

people just are not good to each other
one on one.

the rich are not good to the rich
the poor are not good to the poor.

we are afraid.

our educational system tells us
that we can all be
big-ass winners.

it hasn’t told us
about the gutters
or the suicides.

or the terror of one person
aching in one place
alone

untouched
unspoken to

watering a plant.”

Flash Fiction: The hike

Flash Fiction: The hike

IMG_5613.JPG

Are we there yet?”, Jamie’s voice shot up.
Not yet honey, we only just began like five minutes ago”. His mother replied.

A few steps up the rocky hill, Andrea’s voice shot up,
We there yet?”
“No love, still got some way to climb, okay?” The mother replied as patiently as she could get her voice to sound.

Five minutes passed in peace with only their crunching footsteps disturbing the sound of Mother Nature when Aaliyah spoke up,
Mum?”

Their mother paused in her tracks and faced Aaliyah with such an intense look, little Aaliyah cowered, her gaze downwards and muttered,
“I only wanted to know if I may have some water please.”

Laughter erupted from both Andrea and Jamie because they were pretty sure that wasn’t reason. But as long as mama was consoled, they kept their mouth shut.

Their mother sighed, beginning to regret ever offering to take them on a hiking trip. She placed her hands on her barely visible bump and said,
You, better behave once you come out.”


Word count: 173. The above story is in response to flash fiction for aspiring writers  photo prompt challenge, where each week we are provided with an image and are to write a 75-175 word story in it. Thank you @Pamela S. Canepa for this week’s photo.

You are sufficient-

You are sufficient-

IMG_5607

He is the sun,
Reflecting light from afar,
Attracting,
Pulling one and all towards him.

He is the sun,
A ginormous creation,
Appealing,
Even from a distance.

He is the sun,
But you-
my dear,
are the sky.
A vast entity of infinite
Creations,
Atoms upon molecules;
A necessity,
In calm or adversity.

He is the sun,
Needed,
But only for a while.
He maybe the sun,
You are the sky.
Come rain,
Come sunshine,
Your need never falls short.

Don’t let his shine,
Diminish your vast,
You- are sufficient.

What love is-

What love is-

IMG_5597.JPG

They say,
This- is what love is,
But you wouldn’t know now,
Would you?… referring to me,
A rendition, much like,
The sensational rhymes
Of a love poem,
Pours out of them.

I listen,
I have to-
An emotion which seems to be
An equivalent, to the way
I gaze at a cup of
Steaming black coffee,
Enchanted by the
Swirls of its steam;
Anticipation,
of that first sip.

An emotion which almost,
Feels like the yearning
With which I wrap myself
Around my one gifted duvet,
A visit,
Whose end I dread.

An emotion akin to
The warmth which embraces me
Each moment I happen,
Upon the words of my lord.
Pleasant to the ears,
Soothing to the soul.

An emotion which almost,
Almost feels like the cause,
Of my heart to bit a little faster,
At the sight of my study table;
Always another book to read.
How I hate them.
Oh, how I love them.

But they say-
I do not know what love is.
Maybe, I don’t.

The beautiful picture above Is courtesy of Pinterest.

Flash Fiction: Gone

Flash Fiction: Gone

IMG_5569

D.S Fenworthy looked at the images rolling on the screen and sure enough, the little girl wearing a pink hoodie was Sarah. Her hair was much darker now but that was definitely her- a girl who had gone missing two months ago at a supermarket whilst her mother was shopping. One minute she was there and the next, gone.

boss! Boss!“, Fenworthy yelled across the office.
D.I Lucy hurried to his cubicle, unhappy to have her lunch break uninterrupted.
This better be worth it..”, she began when Fenworthy interjected by pointing at a screenshot of Sarah.
Isn’t that?”

Fenworthy nodded and D.I Lucy dumped her half eaten sandwich into the trash. He played the tape in slow motion which showed Sarah standing on the platform as the train approached, but the moment it passed, she was gone, again.

We can’t lose her again” Lucy declared, “Gather everyone together, fast. A little girl is missing and this is our first real clue. Time is ticking. We need to get Sarah back home.”


Word count: 171 words. this story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring writers Photo prompt challenge. Each week we are provided with a picture and are to write a 75-175 word story on it. Thank you @Yinglan for providing us with this week’s picture.

The best things-

The best things-


They say good things don’t last forever,
But I believe the best things do,

Like the rising of the sun each day,
Reflecting it’s golden beams.

The moon each night unfailingly,
Illuminating night’s darkness.

The rise and fall of ocean waves,
Which never cease to occur.

This planet, 3 hundred and 65 days
Revolving around the sun,

Sending love through Rays and sunbeams,
Each day from dawn till dusk.

The stars in all of their beauty,
Shining gallantly in the sky,

Piercing through the darkened layers,
To comfort the moon at night;

They say good things don’t last forever,
They- who can’t comprehend our love,

If breathing is a necessity for life,
Then you- my dear, are my lungs.