إلّا رأيتُ اللهَ فيها مُصوِّرًا

Whenever my eyes behold a form of beauty,

"He is in no need of anything but all things are in deep need of Him at all times. Whatever is not permitted by Him will never be and whatever is not done for His sake is useless."

They hastened on their path, while I walked and stumbled, succeeded sometimes and failed other time

Arabic: اللَّهُمَّ إِنِّي أَعُوذُ بِكَ مِنْ شَرِّ مَا عَمِلْتُ، وَمِنْ شَرِّ مَا لَمْ أَعْمَلْ

Transliteration: Allahumma inni a’udhu bika min sharri ma ‘amiltu wa min sharri ma lam a’mal

Translation: “O Allah, I seek refuge in You from the evil of what I have done and from the evil of what I have not done.”

— Sahih Muslim 2716

The Avian Oracle

This Bluebird poem depicts a bluebird inside the poet that stands for a vulnerable hidden inner self, suffocated behind a hard, self-reliant exterior. Bukowski portrays the struggle to keep that inner voice inside, using vices and distractions- whiskey, smoking, and a nightlife routine to dull the feeling and keep others from noticing. The bird only escapes at night, when everyone else is asleep, and the vulnerable poet and the bird continue a secret pact. The moment of connection is powerful enough to move him, yet he insists he does not weep. But the theme of the poem suggests otherwise.

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...