“At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.” – Plato
Charles Bukowski
Once upon time, during the 21st Century, there lived a blogger named Andriana who was sick and sad. Confined to her small bed in Brooklyn, about to gouge her own eyes out from the pain of sinus pressure and barely breathing at the mercy of an upper respiratory infection, Andriana attempted to browse the internet in hopes of intelligent entertainment.
Curiously (or maybe by an act of fate), Andriana stumbled on an interesting Facebook Quiz entitled, “Which Drunken Poet Are You?” Though not usually a fan of these “please internet, tell me about myself, blahblahblah” quizzes, she decided to take the plunge. Indeed, this is an intriguing title; an intelligent and quirky title which clearly sparked her investigative side.
The information she found was not life-changing and sadly, the quiz was removed by Facebook. Still, just for fun, here is her favorite poem by the drunken poet she is supposedly most similar to…
Bluebird, by Charles Bukowski
There’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see
you.
There’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he’s
in there.
There’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
There’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
sad.
Then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do
you?
Cheers to you Mr. Bukowski, you majestic little man! Thank you for being that drunken poet; that drunken poet with that drunken spirit no sober gentleman will ever come to understand; That drunk poet at the envy of all other unfulfilled writers; That drunken poet with the bluebird in his heart.
While internetting, I’ve stumbled upon this cool D.I.Y. project on a blog which, for some odd reason, automatically plays really terrible music as soon as you open the page. Though I despise websites that shove music and “culture” down your throat in such an obvious way, being the strong-willed but open minded girl that we all know I am, I scrolled down until I found the playlist, turned off the noise and read on.
These amazing little pieces make excellent gifts as key chains, necklaces, bracelets and can be uniquely tailored with a love letter, (or hate letter, if that’s what you’re into.) You can even make 20 of them, write a different quote in each one and keep them in a little bowl or pile on the desk of your home library for both decorative and inspirational purposes.
Check it out now, by clicking ArtbyWendy.
If you’re anywhere near Type Bookstore in Toronto, Canada please make sure to stop in and tell the owners just how the internet appreciates them for both their uniqueness and passion!
Ibn Zaydun is arguably (and in my personal opinion) one of the most underrated poets of all time. Raised in Aristocratic, Moorish Spain circa 1000 A.D., Ibn Zaydun wholeheartedly dedicated his every affections to moral issues of the heart. Most of his poetry is dedicated to the Princess and then-popular poet, Princess Wallada of Cordoba. Both Zaydun and Wallada used most of their published poetry as outlets to spew their sentiment for the other. This went on for years, as Ibn Zaydun was exiled from his city for his political passions.
Though Wallada’s poetry was much more popular at the time and therefore, much easier to find now, it is this poem by Ibn Zaydun in particular that I find most inspiring. This is a response to a public note Wallada wrote dismissing Zaydun’s love for her once and for all. (Seriously, this girl defined the term “hard to get.”)
I have linked Ibn Zaydun‘s name to his short but extremely well written Wikipedia page for those of you who are interested. Also, feel free to post comments and questions.
Versus of Gazal: Addressed to Wallada
by Ibn Zaydun
When shall I describe my feelings
To you, my delight, my torture?
When will my tongue have the pleasure
Of explaining it, instead of a letter?
God is my witness, my present of condition
Has been caused by my love for you:
When I eat, the food is insipid,
When I drink, the wine is tasteless;
Oh you tempter in consolation,
Oh you proof of a forlorn lover!
You are the sun that has hidden
Itself behind a veil from my eye:
When the full moon gleams very gently
From behind a thin, light raincloud,
‘Tis exactly like your beauteous
Face that gleams from behind your veil!
Between you &me-if you wished- there could exist
What cannot be lost: a secret undivulged, if other secrets are:
Oh you, who are selling your love for me, know that I
Know that if you imposed on my heart what those
Of other people could not bear, mine can withstand:
Disdain me, I’ll bear it;
postpone, I’ll be patient;
be haughty, I’ll be humble;
Turn back, I shall follow;
speak, I listen;
order, I shall obey.
