The L word (Charles said...)

Bukowski once said in one of his poems that the tigers were looking
for him when he described the loss and the loneliness for Jane? someone
he had, in fact still loved but had long time lost. And then at end he
said words to the effect, 'they? the tigers are here and they're
circling me in my room, it's 3:OOAM in the morning and I don't
care.'

And I thought to myself I wonder if she'd felt the same way for him? If
she would have felt the same way for him, if the situation had been
reversed?

And then I thought what if the feelings he had expressed had only been
his not hers? Only going one way?

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A wise man said?

'No there is no such thing as the actual thing defined by the L
word.'

There is only this existence of this absurd little four-letter
word.

But there are such things as?

Feelings, intense feelings that sometimes so sadly go only
one-way.

And when this is so?

Here's how it might go.

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Well?ok

There is you and there is me? but?no there is not us.
Oh and I look at you and you look at me.
And what we see and feel are not quite the same, an understatement
true.
There is this distance you see and you say a difference.
Within this difference is the real core of what is the distance between
you and me.
Not mere physical miles?no, these are emotional and psychological
miles, and this distance between us, amounts to a great journey to the
stars.
And as well we know to touch the stars all you have to do is?
dream.

But everything is cool and there's an understanding that this little
fun thing, this little really nothing? this little understatement that
we have can lead to nowhere, and will eventually? though without ever
really beginning come to an? end?without harming anyone, but I wonder
if we sometimes pretend?

But can I tell you about dreams, how it really feels?do you want to see
all the things that mere words simply fail to say?

Well no, all the clich?s are here, the pain, emotion, light, darkness,
elation, emptiness, a yearning hunger?a head in hands and a heart
lifting and sinking, and no I'm not going to bore you with it all? but
just try to imagine when these are all so real.

But here's how i see this little pretend thing end.

A calm before the storm on a south Pacific sea, and here i am floating,
drifting, buoyed by the waves.

I'm a bit like old Charles really, waiting in his room, only now I'm
treading dead in deep un-chartered waters watching the smiling 'Greats
Whites,' circling and teasing, on the horizon, just waiting to come in
and nip and feed and tear on the remains of an empty God knows
what.

And like Charles I think I've forgotten how to care and I'm calling
them all in, all because of something that never really happened, that
never really began, that somehow came to an end.All of this... because
of you.

And when all this happens... this little thing, we have this word, a
tiny insignificant absurd four-letter word to describe all of this?all
of this? No i think i will like the wise man beg to differ

And to Charles I will say. .

''if we ever meet somewhere, someday, I'll stand you a drink and then
raise my own glass and i will say.When something needed to be said,
something about life, something real, something gritty, true and mean,
then Charles Hank Bukowski I salute you because you were the master of
hitting the fucking nail right on the fucking head.'

Cheers!!!!!

************************************************************

And hypothetically of course? that's how these situations sometimes
go.