The Diary Of A Nobody

Charles Bukowski - Bluebird

Written:

Bluebird was written in the 1990s, published as part of Bukowski’s 1992 poetry collection The Last Night of the Earth Poems. This was one of the last collections Bukowski released before his death in 1994. The poem reflects a more contemplative side of Bukowski’s work as he faced the later years of his life, exploring themes of mortality, introspection, and the complexities of human emotion.

Theme:

The theme of Bluebird by Charles Bukowski revolves around vulnerability, emotional suppression, and the conflict between one’s inner self and societal expectations. The "bluebird" in the poem symbolizes Bukowski’s softer, more sensitive side, which he keeps hidden from the world. Bukowski was known for his gritty, tough persona and raw, unapologetic writing style, often portraying himself as a hardened, cynical character. However, in Bluebird, he reveals a gentler, more introspective side, suggesting that beneath his rugged exterior lies a desire for love, acceptance, and tenderness. The poem captures the struggle to maintain this vulnerable self in a world that often demands strength and resilience, highlighting the human tendency to guard one's emotions and present a fortified facade.

Poem:

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?

Credits: poem by Charles Bukowski, 1990. / many thanks for the music and its creator, Chillpac / @chillpac_.

Artist links:

https://www.instagram.com/chillpac_/

https://open.spotify.com/artist/3k8dN7ttBtz3ce20RS6BQl?si=Grhd8zqsRYO9pV0NNt4y0g