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Sarhoş Çal Piyanoyu, Vurmalı Çalgı Gibi, Parmaklar Biraz Kanamaya Başlayana Dek by Charles Bukowski
jakekilroy's review against another edition
4.0
Bukowski the fiction writer and Bukowski the poet always seemed to be two different people. I've read a handful of his poems over the years and recognized a fire in him that is totally lacking from his novel work. In his poems, there lies a confident drunk, asleep at the wheel of life, seamlessly floating on by, content with distraction and apathy. In his fiction, there's an emptiness that's so passive, it's hardly a story at all.
This is the first volume of his poetry that I've read from start to finish and, at points, it was like reading poetry for the first time and realizing what the medium is capable of. Other times, it was like listening to someone's drunk grandfather repeat what he did yesterday in his sad life. Bukowski writes about the same thing many times over and he wants you to know that he drinks, fucks, gambles and doesn't care about any of it.
He never comes off as arrogant, which someone younger would maybe try. Instead, he lists his vices as a laundry list with no power to them, as if they're just there to keep him going. He's no tortured artist. He's just a man getting by, too tired to regret in large doses. He's one long shrug, spouting off some of the most true things you've ever known.
Some poems are just small things he observed, so small that you're mad that he wrote a poem about it. Other poems have a furious passion for living a shitty life and it's brilliant. It's really hit or miss, and it's that way in blocks. It'll be three poems in a row that make you think Bukowski was given the keys of life and then it'll be three poems of Bukowski wasting your time like an old drunk at a bar.
When he's good, he's goddamn glorious. When he's bad, he's miserable.
In life and in poetry.
This is the first volume of his poetry that I've read from start to finish and, at points, it was like reading poetry for the first time and realizing what the medium is capable of. Other times, it was like listening to someone's drunk grandfather repeat what he did yesterday in his sad life. Bukowski writes about the same thing many times over and he wants you to know that he drinks, fucks, gambles and doesn't care about any of it.
He never comes off as arrogant, which someone younger would maybe try. Instead, he lists his vices as a laundry list with no power to them, as if they're just there to keep him going. He's no tortured artist. He's just a man getting by, too tired to regret in large doses. He's one long shrug, spouting off some of the most true things you've ever known.
Some poems are just small things he observed, so small that you're mad that he wrote a poem about it. Other poems have a furious passion for living a shitty life and it's brilliant. It's really hit or miss, and it's that way in blocks. It'll be three poems in a row that make you think Bukowski was given the keys of life and then it'll be three poems of Bukowski wasting your time like an old drunk at a bar.
When he's good, he's goddamn glorious. When he's bad, he's miserable.
In life and in poetry.
joarodp's review against another edition
3.0
Después de ser un autor recomendado por varios conocidos fanáticos, tomé la decisión de leer Play the Piano Drunk. Es una obra interesante, pero supongo que habría impactado mucho más si lo hubiese leído en mis años de adolescente. Bueno como para leer más del autor, pero no logró encantarme. En algún momento podremos calificar con medias estrellas? Definitivamente es más que tres pero menos que cuatro
john_opalenik's review against another edition
4.0
This is my favorite volume of Bukowski's poetry. Not only does it have a great title, it also has a higher ratio of poems that stick with me as opposed to the forgettable ones. I find that this is often the case in shorter collections of his work.
If I were to buy one volume of Bukowski to give as a gift to a friend who I think would dig it, this would probably be it.
If I were to buy one volume of Bukowski to give as a gift to a friend who I think would dig it, this would probably be it.
philosophie's review against another edition
4.0
there is nothing to do
but drink
play the horse
bet on the poem.
i love the fact that bukowski's poems seem to tell a story, however gruesome that story may be. most of his poems revolve around alcohol/beers,
I am dying of sadness and alcohol,
cigarettes and love. however, bukowski has a somewhat uncanny perception of love,
I have, he went on, betrayed myself with belief, deluded myself with love tricked myself with sex.
and I like it when they tell me;they are having luck with a man;luck with their life;after surviving me;they have many joys due them;I make their lives seem better after me., but that's actually fine by me, it makes me sympathize with him more.
there was no living creature as foul as I
and all my poems were
false
but drink
play the horse
bet on the poem.
i love the fact that bukowski's poems seem to tell a story, however gruesome that story may be. most of his poems revolve around alcohol/beers,
I am dying of sadness and alcohol,
cigarettes and love. however, bukowski has a somewhat uncanny perception of love,
I have, he went on, betrayed myself with belief, deluded myself with love tricked myself with sex.
and I like it when they tell me;they are having luck with a man;luck with their life;after surviving me;they have many joys due them;I make their lives seem better after me., but that's actually fine by me, it makes me sympathize with him more.
there was no living creature as foul as I
and all my poems were
false
immie_church's review against another edition
dark
emotional
funny
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? N/A
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
3.0
strong_extraordinary_dreams's review against another edition
2.0
not a grea poet, but an ok way to pass the time.
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