Charles Bukowski: A Vote For the Gentle Light
a vote for the gentle light
by Charles Bukowski, from What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire
burned senseless by other people’s constant
depression,
I pull the curtains apart,
aching for the gentle light.
it’s there, it’s there
somewhere,
I’m sure.
oh, the faces of depression, expressions
pulled down into the gluey dark.
the bitter small sour mouths,
the self-pity, the self-justification is
too much, all too much.
the faces in shadow,
deep creases of gloom.
there’s no courage there, just the desire to
possess something–admiration, fame, lovers,
money, any damn thing
so long as it comes easy.
so long as they don’t have to do
what’s necessary.
and when they don’t succeed they
become embittered,
ugly,
they imagine that they have
been slighted, cheated,
demeaned.
then they concentrate on their
unhappiness, their last
refuge.
and they’re good at that,
they are very good at that.
they have so much unhappiness
they insist upon your sharing it
too.
they bathe and splash in their
unhappiness.
they splash it upon you.
it’s all they have.
it’s all they want.
it’s all they can be.
you must refuse to join them.
you must remain yourself.
you must open the curtains
or the blinds
or the windows
to the gentle light.
to joy.
it’s there in life
and even in death
it can be
there.
Copyright © by Charles Bukowski. Used without permission, asking forgiveness.
Interesting and thought-provoking, but I wish he hadn’t used the word “depression” ─ a very real and serious disease, which I don’t think is what he’s writing about (and if he is, he’s rather heartless … or ignorant). I think he’s writing about something more akin to “unhappiness,” a word he uses later and which we all experience from time-to-time. I agree, “…open the curtains … to joy…,” but to the clinically depressed, that’s rarely possible.
Yes, that choice of word doesn’t sit comfortably with me, either. But I’m going with what I think he meant, which is, as you say, unhappiness.
Although I completely agree the word ‘depression’ shouldn’t be used lightly, I think I disagree. I am depressed and this poem is meaningful to me because I found myself surrounded by other people wallowing in their sadnesses. I could be wrong, but for me, that word is important. I know Bukowski was depressed at some points in his life, and I like to think that someone agrees with me about the frustration of people who choose to be unhappy.
Thanks so much for pointing out the word ‘depression’ shouldn’t be used lightly. Made me smile to see other people agreeing with me there. :)
Thanks for your comments, Eleanor.
Are you the Eleanor Avon who’s a country singer/songwriter?