The Tuesday Platform

Charles Bukowski

the flesh covers the bone 

and they put a mind in there 

and sometimes a soul, 

and the women break vases 

against the walls 

and the men drink too much 

and nobody finds the one 

but keep looking crawling in and out of beds. 

flesh covers the bone 

and the flesh searches for more than flesh.

there's no chance at all: 

we are all trapped by a singular fate.

nobody ever finds the one.

the city dumps fill 

the junkyards fill 

the madhouses fill 

the hospitals fill 

the graveyards fill

nothing else fills

By Charles Bukowski

Greetings to all poets and friends and visitors….from a ‘still-clutching-to-summer'-London, UK!

As one of my favourite Tv shows  proclaims, “Winter is coming!”… and yes, there’s a definite crisp chill in the night air - so all the more reason to warm up with lots and lots of poetry.

This is we where we eagerly wait to discern your dreams, visions and pearls …as you cast them forward. Feel free to share your poem and please, don’t forget to read what your fellow poets have been up to.