poetry Archives - Page 7 of 10 - Trisha Sugarek, Author, Playwright & Poet

Charlie and I are back…with our Poetry (Charles Bukowski)

It’s Charles Bukowski month!!! No secret. I am in love with the guy’s raw, tell it like it is, writing. So here’s a work of his and a work of mine. I’m fully aware that my scribbles should not be on the same page or in the same room as this great writer…….(so please don’t write me) I am just sharing a frame of mind. I believe that if you lay down with dogs you get fleas. If you read great writers, just maybe some of their brilliance will rub off or teach you something.

Try your hand; there are no fast and hard rules to poetry anymore…at least none that I pay attention to. (and I’m in good company with this sentiment) It’s far more important that you write your thoughts down. Bukowski believed that too. He couldn’t have cared less what his critics thought….no pentameter? no rhyme? So What!!??

Mine:

Apocalypse ©

The whale sings
and I weep,

The world groans
and I ache,

The wind gusts
and I bend,

The surf sighs
and I rage,

The babe cries
and I mourn,

The mountains shift
and I flinch,

The ebony sun melts
and I rail,

The earth dies
and I wear black. T.Sugarek

Continue reading “Charlie and I are back…with our Poetry (Charles Bukowski)”

Blogger Declares August as Charles Bukowski Month!

It’s unofficially Charles Bukowski month because this blogger has declared it so! Who the heck is Bukowski you might be asking. In my opinion he is one of the great writers of our time. Known for his cutting, take no prisoners, urban poetry and musings.
It’s no secret. I am in love with the man’s poetry. If you love ‘bad boys’ who are shot with talent, he’s the guy for you. I read his work every day that I write….whatever his commentary is about I am inspired to be a better writer.

Bukowski’s life was horrific by most people’s standards. He was a raging alcoholic, womanizer, gambler and bum. He worked regular jobs only enough to keep himself in cigarettes, booze, rent (occasionally) stamps, typewriter paper and money for the race track . My fantasy is; oh yes I have fantasized about him….to spend a weekend with him at my cabin, deep in the forests of the Blue Ridge Mountains. In the evenings, before a fire, we would drink whiskey neat, talk of people, past and present, swear at each other and tell stories. We would end the nights Continue reading “Blogger Declares August as Charles Bukowski Month!”

Attention! All Writers Out There!

There’s a BLOG out there that is dedicated to the art of writing and honing your craft. Yep! I’m talking about mine and this is a shameless promo. You won’t be disappointed.

For three years now I have published my posts twice a week and it’s always something about being a better writer. Once a month I interview best selling authors such as Dean Koontz, Sue Grafton, Jeffery Deaver, Sherryl Woods, Anne Gracie, Raymond Benson, Lee Goldberg, Charles Bukowski and dozens more. My goal is to inspire other writers to write more, tell their stories, try writing a play, or maybe some poetry.

Sign up on my home page and receive an email with each day’s post. Delete it if it doesn’t interest you. It’s that simple. Recently I have developed a series of ‘creative writing’ journals with ‘How To’ tips and famous quotes to inspire my fellow writers. https://www.writeratplay.com/category/a-writers-take/ Continue reading “Attention! All Writers Out There!”

The Wide Side of Drink

I had a Bukowski moment yesterday morning, as I am wont to do, probably more often than is healthy. But, what can I say? He’s a heavy influence in this poet’s life. This just flowed from my brain into my fingers, onto the page. I don’t have any drunks in my life, I haven’t been in a bar in a long, long time, and I don’t know anyone who can’t remember to zip up. More than anyone else in my life, reading Charles Bukowski allows me to be free. So whether my readers can relate or not, ENJOY!! (Viewer discretion advised.)

the wide side of drink © T.Sugarek

smooth amber against the tongue
ice cubes wetly thump each other
life smooths out

bigger self
bigger car
bigger life
bigger dick
bigger mouth

drive slow
pretend to be sober
fall out of the car
drop the keys on
the cold asphalt

harass the band
they won’t let the drunk play
join the music in a braying voice

dance on the bar
break glasses
fight the bouncers
grab the girls

bigger self
bigger car
bigger life
bigger dick
bigger mouth

piss against a tree
mumble something astounding
forget to zip up
where’s my car for chisshakes?

kill the family
unlucky enough to be
driving home
at the same time

bigger self
bigger car
bigger life
bigger dick
bigger mouth

after, he hobbles down the road
with a few bruised ribs and two scratches,
he steps carefully over the carnage

“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.” ~ Dr. Seuss

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How To Write Haiku

‘One of my most popular posts has been my series on how to write Haiku. So I thought I would bring this post back for my newer friends, followers and visitors.’

Haiku Poetry, an ancient form of writing poetry from Japan, is very strict in its discipline. Three sections of three lines each. The first and third lines, in each section, must be five syllables. The second line must be seven syllables. A reference to nature is usually found somewhere in the poem. My Sumi-E ink and brushwork you see here is also an ancient Japanese technique.

Tip: When I first write haiku I don’t worry so much about the structure on the first draft. I get my thoughts down and then start editing words (syllables) until I have the correct structure of 5-7-5. This works best for me and gives me more freedom.

Tip: Over the centuries (and certainly in the US) Haiku has been reduced to one section of three lines. In ancient Japan culture (11-12th centuries) a haiku (correct name: Renku) had three sections of three lines. I prefer to write in the ancient style but it is acceptable, by some, to write a complete poem in three lines.

For years I had been writing little snippets of this and that, periodically trying my hand at writing Haiku. Years later a book of poetry was
conceived and then a book dedicated to Haiku, one of my favorite forms of writing. A companion Journal for your Haiku compositions and other journaling is also available.

REVIEW from The Midwest Book Review, February 2013

‘The World of Haiku is a striking collection of original poetry; each poem consists of three haiku verses. Bold, pen-and-ink artwork embellishes each brief poem. The World of Haiku embodies the spirit of encompassing timeless observations in a fleeting moment of verse, and is a delightful treasure for any who enjoy contemplative haiku poetry. ~~Paul T. Vogel, Reviewer

Hope you enjoy these samples of my Haiku…

Haiku ©

to write haiku is
to distill to perfection
with only three lines

Spring Birth © (Renku)

one twig, two twigs, three
soft down plucked from mother’s breast
the perfect bower

three tiny blue eggs
under warmth of mother’s love
they stir, they hatch new

three urgent beaks open wide
insistent, burning, they beg
speckled downy fuzz

Fall Opens the Door ©

morning sun dapples
trees in a polka-dot dress
shines soft green and light

chill hint of autumn
smells of summer, loam, and pause
visions of winter

sap returns from leaves
to store deep in the tree heart
yellow, red, orange, burnt

brush and ink by author/poet

Roar of Silence ©

to live in the woods
listen to the sheer quiet
so weighty and loud

the morn silent, still
not a whisper of sound stirs
deafening stillness

weighing on the ear
silence roars loud in the brain
the bird’s shrill cry brays

and from two masters….Yukio Mishima and Miyamoto Musashi, a 15th century Japanese swordsman and ronin (the term for what we now know as Samurai) became renowned through stories of his excellent swordsmanship in numerous duels, even from a very young age. He was the founder of the Niten-ryū style of swordsmanship and the author of The Book of Five Rings, a book on strategy, tactics, and philosophy that is still studied today. Miyamoto Musashi is widely considered one of the greatest warriors of all time. Samurai were expected to explore their artistic and philosophical side and most were known, not only for their prowess on the battlefield, but for their beautiful poetry. (Note: translated, the poetry does not keep to the exact discipline. Japanese poets used ‘sound units’ rather than syllables.)

The sheaths of swords rattle
As after years of endurance
Brave men set out
To tread upon the first frost of the year

A small night storm blows
Saying ‘falling is the essence of a flower’
Preceding those who hesitate
—Yukio Mishima

……and by Miyamoto Musashi

A crow has settled
on a bare branch
Autumn evening

On a withered branch,
A crow has stopped
Autumn’s eve

A lone crow
sits on a dead branch
this autumn eve

(PS. I invite you to send me your Haiku and if you wish it, I will critique and publish it here on my blog.)
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Haiku Poetry and How to Write it! (part 2)

In Japan the Samurai/poets would frequently write Haiku before battle. Death poems were considered a necessity, graceful, natural, and emotionally neutral, in accordance with the teachings of Buddha.

Like a rotten log
half buried in the ground
my life, which has not flowered,
comes to this sad end.
Minamoto Yorimasa 1104-1180

Samurai Song © T.Sugarek

delicate blossom
rests in the still gnarled hand
bruised petals weep tears

weary eyes open
tiny cuts, the body bleeds
peace still years away

sun rise breaks the hill
heralds another battle
draw your sword and charge

( Three sets, three lines each. First line = 5 syllable, second line = 7 syllables, third line = 5 syllables) Traditionally, some reference to nature should be included. Continue reading “Haiku Poetry and How to Write it! (part 2)”

Charles Bukowski, as He Lay Dying

Throughout the millennium many cultures have had the tradition of writing a death poem or a death song. In Japan the Samurai/poets would recite their death poem as they opened their own bellies with their sword. Death poems are typically graceful, natural, and emotionally neutral, in accordance with the teachings of Buddha.

Like a rotten log
half buried in the ground
my life, which has not flowered, comes
to this sad end. Minamoto Yorimasa 1104-1180

Native American warriors would sing their death song as they rushed into battle.
‘When it comes time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.’ Unknown

In the collection of Charles Bukowski’s work, Pleasures of the Damned, he wrote poetry about dying as he slowly lost his battle with cancer. Beautiful work. Not sad, just reality, simply Bukowski. I have read and re-read this 500+ page tome and gone from laughing at his cat and the mocking bird to mourning his passing. (below) I have fallen in love with this wild, derelict genius and profited by him; I am a better writer for having known him.

Sun coming down © Charles Bukowski

no one is sorry I am leaving
not even I;
but there should be a minstrel
or at least a glass of wine.

it bothers the young most, I think:
an unviolent slow death
still it makes any man dream;
you wish for an old sailing ship,
the white salt-crusted sail
and the sea shaking out hints of immortality.

sea in the nose
sea in the hair
sea in the marrow, in the eyes
and yes, there in the chest.

will we miss
the love of a woman or music or food
or the gambol of the great mad muscled
horse, kicking clods and destinies
high and away
in just one moment of the sun coming down?

but now it’s my turn
and there’s no majesty in it
because there was no majesty
before it
and each of us, like worms bitten
out of apples,
deserves no reprieve

death enters my mouth
and snakes along my teeth
and I wonder if I am frightened of
this voiceless, unsorrowful dying that is
like the drying of a rose?

And I close with my own simple offering.

death comes silently
death comes with a loud screaming
death at his own hand

death comes suddenly
detroit’s bright twisted metal
steam, fire, cold asphalt

boring death, sweet death
slow trip down a lonely road
lines drip, machines beep

History, stories, poets…they all contribute to this writer’s imagination and creativity.

Interview with Charles Bukowski (posthumous)
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Do YOU Learn Anything from History or Make the same Mistakes…Again?

I looked up this quote to be certain I quoted it with accuracy and low and behold! Today is the day that Winston Churchill (you all know how much I love him) and Charles Bukowski (you know I am obsessed with him) meet. Considering it’s my blog I guess it was inevitable.

Winston Churchill was one of the greatest ‘coiner of phrases’ that the world has ever seen. He said, ‘those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it’ back in the early 1900’s. Not much has changed and it seems that we are, indeed, doomed to repeat and repeat.

Ironically, Bukowski wrote this prose back in the early 1950’s. It could have been written yesterday; we’re still at war, the politicians still suffer from the malady of greed and power. Government still disregards the weak, the old, the impoverished, the helpless……..

of late
I’ve had this thought
that this country
has gone backwards
4 or 5 decades
and that all the
social advancement
the good feeling of
person toward
person
has been washed
away
and replaced by the same
old
bigotries.

we have
more than ever
the selfish wants of power
the disregard for the
weak
the old
the impoverished
the
helpless.

we are replacing want with
war
salvation with
slavery.

we have wasted the
gains

we have become
rapidly
less.

we have our Bomb
it is our fear
our damnation
and our
shame.

now
something so sad
has hold of us
that
the breath
leaves
and we can’t even
cry.

‘Oh no!’ you cry, ‘Trish is going all political on us’. Not at all. It’s still about the writing and the wordsmiths of our time.
I just found it so poignant that these two great men, so very different in their calling and their craft would come to the same philosophical place decades apart. One man was a great statesman, a world leader and a wordmaster at the highest level. The other man, a dissolute, drunken, promiscuous, wild genius of a writer. One pronounced wisdom in a pedantic, clear statement, leaving nothing to interpretation or misunderstanding. The other’s rantings makes you see it, breath it, taste it, feel it.

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Start your month off right!! DON’T MISS UPCOMING BLOGS. INTERVIEWS with best-selling AUTHORS! “The Writer’s Corner”

In addition to my twice weekly blog I will also feature an interview with another author once a month. These authors have already responded and you can read their interviews by clicking on their name: Ann Purser, Susan Elia MacNeal, Karen Robards, Mark Childress, Rhys Bowen, Dean Koontz, Tasha Alexander, Patrick Taylor, Sheryl Woods, Jo-Ann Mapson, Jeffrey Deaver, Cathy Lamb, Elizabeth Gilbert, Amber Winckler, Raymond Benson, Andrew Grant, Heidi Jon Schmidt, Robert McCammon, Sue Grafton, Walter Mosley, and many others.

So come along with me; we shall sneak into these writers’ special places, be a fly on the wall and watch them create! Jeffrey Deaver was October’s author and Patrick Taylor will join us in November. Slick mystery writer, Andrew Grant will join us this winter. Loretta Chase will be featured later this year. Raymond Benson is my January author.

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He Always Makes Me Smile…and Think!

More from Charles Bukowski……..His insight is pure truth but who among us would think in quite this way? Never a glass far from his hand, never a woman far from his arm, never a stubby pencil far from his fingers…the genius wrote and wrote and then wrote some more… and very little of it was false.

it’s strange ©

it’s strange when famous people die
whether they have fought the good fight or
the bad one.
it’s strange when famous people die
whether we like them or not
they are like old buildings old streets Continue reading “He Always Makes Me Smile…and Think!”

An Ode to Our Cats…Hank and me (Part 2)

In his later years when he ran out of things to say about drinking, the sad state of the world, women, and brawling, Charles (Hank) Bukowski wrote some really good stuff about his cats. He always had one or two or five hanging around and his love and admiration for them shines through his words.
He inspired me to write an ‘ode’ to my most recent cats. We have a lot in common, Hank and I. Nowadays, I try to have only one cat at a time but in the past I’ve had up to five. My downfall was that I decided to breed Persian cats….but, damn! When the kittens were born, I couldn’t bear to give them up. That ended my breeding days.

Here is an ode to Hank’s mean, old, junk-yard dog of a Cat.

bad fix by Charles Bukowski

old Butch, they fixed him
the girls don’t look like much
anymore.

when Big Sam moved out
of the back
I inherited big Butch,
70 as cats go, old, fixed,
but still as big and
mean a cat as anybody
ever remembered
seeing. Continue reading “An Ode to Our Cats…Hank and me (Part 2)”

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