natnat - pa to zna svaki lik koji bleji ispred diskonta :)
Da, Korle, znam.
Može li mi neko nabaviti pesmu "Besano", plaćam pivo, al stvarno :))))
Odlicno,ovo zadnje moram da zapamtim.Ostalo mi je u pamcenju kada u jednoj knjizi kaze "Ako covek ima cetri zida oko sebe,moze da pokori svet".
Pamti, al nađi mi pesmu!
Nije pesma,vec on to kaze u nekog knjizi,ne znam tacno koja je.Imam sve koje su izasle kod nas u zadnje vreme,mislim da je Lom izdao.
Natnat-Znas mozda kako se zove pesma na engleskom,nije sleepless
Eh, dragi moj debeli pacove, dok ti tražiš, ja je nađoh i želim da je podelim sa svima koje interesuje. Izgleda da moram samu sebe da vodim na ćeps.
Besano
Stare sedokose konobarice po kafeima noći odustale su,
i dok koračam niz pločnike svetlosti
i gledam u prozore staračkih domova
mogu videti da ono više nije sa njima.
Vidim ljude kako sede na klupama po parkovima
i mogu videti po načinuna koji sede i gledaju
da je ono nestalo.
Vidim ljude kako voze kola
i vidim po načinu na koji voze svoja kola
da niti vole niti su voljeni.
Kao da i ne pomišljaju na seks.
Sve je zaboravljeno kao neki stari film.
Vidim ljude u robnim kućama i supermarketima
kako koračaju pored rafova i kupuju stvari
i mogu videti po načinu na koji im njihiva odeća pristaje
i po načinu na koji koračaju i po izrazima njihovih lica i očiju
da ih nije briga ni za šta i da ništa ne brine za njih.
Mogu videti stotinu ljudi dnevno
koji su posve očigledno odustali.
Ako odem na konjske trke ili sportsku priredbu,
mogu videti hiljade
koji ne osećaju ni za koga i ni za šta
i za koje nema tuđih osećaja.
Posvuda vidim one koji čeznu ni za čim
osim za hranom, skliništem i odećom
oni se koncentrišu jedino na to,
Besano.
Ne razumem zašto ovi ljudi ne nestanu
ne razumem zašto ovi ljudi ne izdahnu
zašto ih oblaci ne ubiju
ili zašto ih psi ne usmrte
ili zašto ih cveće i deca ne ubiju
Ne razumem.
Pretpostavljam da su ubijeni
a ipak ne mogu se prilagoditi njihovoj zbilji
jer tako ih je mnogo.
Svaki dan, svaku noć sve ih je više,
u podzemnim železnicama i u zgradama
i u parkovima; ne osećaju teror kada ne vole
ili kada nisu voljeni.
Tako puno, puno, puno
mojih drugova i drugarica stvorenja.
Ne znam kako se zove na engleskom, niti se sećam iz koje je knjige, ali preturiću po policama, ovo sam našla ispisano na stranicama svog tinejdžersko dnevnika, pa prepisah.
Ovu nisam jos procitao,prevod je odlican.Nisam znao da su ovako dobro preveli na srpski.
Ako postujes jos ovakvih pesama ja cu da te vodim na pice,tebe i sve ostale koji ih budu postovali :D
O.k. Sad ja pamtim. Imaš jednu kratku, majušnu, na mom profilu. :)
Negde kaže: "Govno se skamenilo u meni"... ;)
Dobar je Bukovski, životan, realan do bola.
Natnat ova na profilu je odlicna,muskatla ima willie nelsona i on je odlican.Ali Bukowski je Bukowski.
O pivu
BEER
from: Love is A Mad Dog From Hell
I don't know how many bottles of beer
I have consumed while waiting for things
to get better
I dont know how much wine and whisky
and beer
mostly beer
I have consumed after
splits with women-
waiting for the phone to ring
waiting for the sound of footsteps,
and the phone to ring
waiting for the sounds of footsteps,
and the phone never rings
until much later
and the footsteps never arrive
until much later
when my stomach is coming up
out of my mouth
they arrive as fresh as spring flowers:
"what the hell have you done to yourself?
it will be 3 days before you can fuck me!"
the female is durable
she lives seven and one half years longer
than the male, and she drinks very little beer
because she knows its bad for the figure.
while we are going mad
they are out
dancing and laughing
with horney cowboys.
well, there's beer
sacks and sacks of empty beer bottles
and when you pick one up
the bottle fall through the wet bottom
of the paper sack
rolling
clanking
spilling gray wet ash
and stale beer,
or the sacks fall over at 4 a.m.
in the morning
making the only sound in your life.
beer
rivers and seas of beer
the radio singing love songs
as the phone remains silent
and the walls stand
straight up and down
and beer is all there is.
AS CRAZY AS I EVER WAS
from: Love is A Dog From Hell
drunk and writing poems
at 3 a.m.
what counts now
is one more
tight pussy
before the light
tilts out
drunk and writing poems
at 3:15 a.m.
some people tell me that I'm
famous.
what am I doing alone
drunk and writing poems at
3:18 a.m.?
I'm as crazy as I ever was
they don't understand
that I haven't stopped hanging out of 4th floor
windows by my heels-
I still do
right now
sitting here
writing this down
I am hanging by my heels
floors up:
68, 72, 101,
the feeling is the
same:
relentless
unheroic and
necessary
sitting here
drunk and writing poems
at 3:24 a.m.
ANOTHER BED
from: Love is a Mad Dog from Hell
another bed
another women
more curtains
another bathroom
another kitchen
other eyes
other hair
other
feet and toes.
everybodys looking.
the eternal search.
you stay in bed
she gets dressed for work
and you wonder what happened
to the last one
and the one after that...
it's all so comfortable-
this love making
this sleeping together
the gentle kindness...
after she leaves you get up and use her
bathroom,
it's all so intimate and strange.
you go back to bed and
sleep another hour.
when you leave its with sadness
but you'll se her again
whether it works or not.
you drive down to the shore and sit
in your car. it's almost noon.
-another bed, other ears, other
ear rings, other mouths, other slippers, other
dresses
colors, doors, phone numbers.
you were once strong enough to live alone.
for a man nearing sixty you should be more
sensible.
you start the car and shift,
thinking, I'll phone Jeanie when I get in,
I haven't seen her since Friday.
THOSE GIRLS WE FOLLOWED HOME
from: You Get So Alone At Times that It Just MAkes Sense
in junior high the two prettiest girls were
Irene and Louise,
they were sisters;
Irene was a year older, a little taller
but it was difficult to choose between
them;
they were not only pretty but they were
astonishingly beautiful
so beautiful
that the boys stayed away from them;
they were terrified of Irene and
Louise
who weren't aloof at all;
even friendlier than most
but
who seemed to dress a bit
differently than the other girls;
they always wore high heels'
silk stockings,
blouses,
skirts,
new outfits
each day;
and'
one afternoon
my buddy, Baldy, and i followed them
home from school;
you see, we were kind of
the bad guys on the grounds
so it was
more or less
expected,
and
it was soomething:
walking along ten or twelve feet behind them;
we didnt say anything
we just followed
watching
their voultuous swaying,
the balance of the
haunches.
we liked it so much that we
followed them home from school
every
day.
when they'd go into their house
we'd stand outside on the sidewalk
smoking cigarettes and talking.
"someday". I told Baldy.
"they are going to invite us inside their
house and they are going to
fuck us."
"you really think so?"
"sure."
now
50 years later
I can tell you
they never did
-never mind all the stories we
told the guys;
yes, it's a dream that
keepds you going
then and
now.
Hm, Bukovski. Od njega sam pročitala jedino "Žene" i mogu reći da ima baš veliku želju da šokira. To je, po mom mišljenju, jedno surovo, realno pisanije, koje svaki oblik ljudskog zbližavanja svodi na banalizovan seks. Prost i vulgaran, kao jedinu svrhu postojanja. Pored alkohola, naravno.
Dopali su mi se neki delovi u knjizi, ima par pametnih. Iako u principu ne volim tako... ne mogu naći reč - nakaradne, šokantne, vulgarne pisce, one koji se trude da ti sve što si ikada smatrao nežnim i romantičnim ogade na svaki mogući način koji postoji, ipak mogu reći da je nekako anulirao sav taj svoj napor prosto svojom iskrenošću. Iskren je prema čitaocima u pogledu svojih godina, svog izgleda, svojih životinjskih potreba, svog ophođenja prema drugim ljudima, svog egocentrizma, samoće i koliko je sve to što on radi, zapravo - pogrešno. Ništa ne prećutkuje, ne opovrgava i ne laže samog sebe. Prosto i jednostavno svestan svojih mana, svih grešaka koje je napravio, čak i u trenutku dok ih pravi, u fazonu:
"Takav sam, jebi ga, mator, dlakav, ružan, asocijalan... ali volim da menjam žene (i ophodim se prema njima kao đubre), koje me vole iz ne znam kog razloga (valjda se lože na pisce, šta li već?)".
Књиге за индијанце.
O boze, ne samo sto citate Bukovskog, nego jos i pricate o tome!
Je l' bi trebalo da se stidimo?
Ma, Jericho je Bludni sin! :))
Eat your heart out
I've come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
her long red hair before my bedroom
mirror.
she pulls her hair up and
piles it on top of her head-
she lets her eyes look at
my eyes-
then she drops her hair and
lets it fall down in front of her face.
we go to bed and I hold her
speechlessly from the back
my arm around her neck
I touch her wrists and hands
feel up to
her elbows
no further.
she gets up.
this is it, she says,
this will do. well,
I'm going.
I get up and walk her
to the door
just as she leaves
she says,
I want you to buy me
some high-heeled shoes
with tall thin spikes,
black high-heeled shoes.
no, I want them
red.
I watch her walk down the cement walk
under the trees
she walks all right and
as the pointsettas drip in the sun
I close the door.
Ne volim pesnike čije pesme uglavnom možeš da pretvoriš u prozu prostim ukidanjem podele na stihove.
Omiljeni citat:
"Ako se desi nesto loše, piješ da zaboraviš; ako se desi nešto lepo, piješ da proslaviš; a ako se ništa ne dešava, piješ da bi se nešto dešavalo."