mírate

A poem, but put a beat on it

MONDAY’S MILLIONAIRES
[Verse 1]
Monday’s Millionaires
While they have their woes
They chalk their misery up
To the way this life goes
Whether it was one paycheck away
That brought ‘em there
Or losing someone dear to them
They thrive on the despair

[Chorus]
Monday’s Millionaires
Monday’s Millionaires
See ‘em on the corner of Main and Center
One bottle of Smirnoff to share
They ain’t runnin’ late for work
Ain’t punchin’ Uncle Sam’s clock
Don’t need to worry if the stocks are up or down
Birds of a fierce feather, they flock

[Verse 2]
Monday’s Millionaires
Huddled in a tiny room
Sharing Mad Dog and cigarettes
3 a.m. the boombox booms
Stretching their legs past noontime
Smell of dirty socks in the air
Every day is a Sunday drive
For Monday’s Millionaires

[Chorus]
Monday’s Millionaires
Monday’s Millionaires
See ‘em on the corner of Main and Center
One bottle of Smirnoff to share
They ain’t runnin’ late for work
Ain’t punchin’ Uncle Sam’s clock
Don’t need to worry if the stocks are up or down
Birds of a fierce feather, they flock

Oooh-oooh-oooh, Oooh-oooh, Oooh-oooh

[Verse 3]
Monday’s Millionaires
When you hand ‘em five bucks
It’s like hitting the Lottery
The meal-ticket they’ve struck
And I often imagine
As I’m sitting at a red light
If I would have the courage it takes
To win that sort ‘a fight

[Chorus]
Monday’s millionaires
Monday’s millionaires
See ‘em on the corner of Main and Center
One bottle of Smirnoff to share
They ain’t runnin’ late for work
Ain’t punchin’ Uncle Sam’s clock
Don’t need to worry if the stocks are up or down
Birds of a fierce feather…birds of that fierce feather, they flock. 


© 2025 Renee La Chapelle – All Rights Reserved


MONDAY’S MILLIONAIRES

Down by your side
Watch the dreary light
It illuminates your sleeping skin
I reach my cold arm across the bed
You make no move
You never do

Own these dire nights
Own their seething lies
Own my damage, own my scars
They paint a broken life's shattered art
And time won't turn my wretched world

To stand in your shadow is to be home.

WRETCHED WORLD

Charles Bukowski_Remix_Daniel_Gom_2025

“Ze stierf aan drankzucht, in een deken gehuld op een dekstoel van een oceaanstomer. Al haar boeken vol doodsbange eenzaamheid, al haar boeken over de wreedheid van liefdeloze liefde, meer was er niet van haar over toen de kuierende vakantiegast haar lijk ontdekte, de kapitein inlichtte en zij snel werd weggewerkt naar elders in het schip. Toen alles gewoon doorging net zoals zij het opgeschreven had.” Charles Bukowski dicht en ligt in een muzikaal bed met #QuincyJones #Frank Boeijen #JoopVisser #cafeboekowski #Boekowski #Bukowski #CharlesBukowski #AlJarreau #GraceJones #VanMorrison #JacksonBrowne #HallOates #SergeGainsbourg #MichelBerger #FranceGall #MichelJonasz #LaurentVoulzy #VeroniqueJeannot #PatriciaKaas #JulienClerc #AlainMazijn

druppel 235 2 maart 25

Charles Bukowski  
EAT YOUT HEART OUT 

I've come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
her long red hair before my bedroom
mirror.
she pulls her hair up and
piles it on top of her head-
she lets her eyes look at
my eyes-
then she drops her hair and
lets it fall down in front of her face.
we go to bed and I hold her
speechlessly from the back
my arm around her neck
I touch her wrists and hands
feel up to
her elbows
no further.
she gets up.
this is it, she says,
this will do. well,
I'm going.
I get up and walk her
to the door
just as she leaves
she says,
I want you to buy me
some high-heeled shoes
with tall thin spikes,
black high-heeled shoes.
no, I want them
red.
I watch her walk down the cement walk
under the trees
she walks all right and
as the poinsettias drip in the sun
I close the door.

Eat Your Heart Out

El abarazo frío de la muerte, BUKOWSKI, es un llamado a la vida a través de la muerte. Un llamado a no desfallecer, a no rendirse, a expresar y a mostrar, a trascender de la tierra para no callar lo que queremos, lo que más queremos ha(ser).

Trae a acolación elementos simbólicos en las letras y la producción, siendo el poeta, Charles Bukowski, la cara que le da vida al tema por su voz sampleadas en una entrevista donde habla de su miedo al no morir a pesar de todo lo que tiene. Aunque la vida se acabe, sus líneas no se acaban. Aunque mi vida se acabe, mi rima nunca se calla.

BUKOWSKI

Máquinas y luces

ouroboros

Found this text online that he wrote (below) so I used an existing track of mine (https://soundcloud.com/user-639782650/buffalo-tune-dec-22-2024) to put it in a song format. It's an exciting exercise!

MY WOMEN OF THE PAST (Ch. BUKOWSKI)
 
My women of the past 
keep trying to locate me.
I duck into dark closets 
and pull the overcoats 
over my head.
at the racetrack I sit 
in the clubhouse smoking 
cigarette after cigarette
watching the horses come 
out for the post parade 
and looking over my shoulder.
I go to bet and this one's ass 
looks like that one's ass used to.
I duck away from her.
then that one's hair might have 
her under it.
I get the hell out 
of the clubhouse and go 
to the grandstand.

CHORUS
I don't want a return of the past.
I don't want a return 
of those ladies of my past,
I don't want to try again,
I don't want to see them again 
even in silhouette;

I give them all, all of them 
to all the other eager men, 
they can have those darlings,
those tits 
those asses 
those thighs 
those minds 

and their mothers and fathers 
and sisters and brothers 
and children and dogs 
and x-boyfriends and current boyfriends, 
they can have them all 
and f*ck them all if they want to.

CHORUS
I don't want a return of the past.
I don't want a return 
of those ladies of my past,
I don't want to try again,
I don't want to see them again 
even in silhouette;

I was a terrible 
and jealous lover who 
mistreated and failed to 
understand them 
and it's best that they are 
with others now 
for that will be better for them 
and that will be better for me
so when they phone or write 
or leave messages
I will forward them all 
to their new fine fellows.
I don't deserve what they have 
and I want to keep it that way.


My women of the past (text by Charles Bukowski)

Polite Rebellions, Micro-Miracles, and a Chaos Guided Compass

Polite Rebellions, Micro-Miracles, and a Chaos Guided Compass (are inside of me)

Bluebird (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?



Bluebird

The Genius of the Crowd by Charles Bukowski  

The Genius of the Crowd

Sunny days are the kisses of a cold mother

Dublin

“Bar de Humo” es poesía sucia con ritmo.
Un chill rap de barra y ceniza, de noches largas y pensamientos rotos.
Rimas viscerales, humo espeso y calma alcohólica en cada compás.

Canción para los que piensan con el vaso medio lleno y el alma medio vacía.

🎧 Lo-fi · Chill Rap · 82 BPM · Mood: melancólico, poético, decadente, crudo.

Bar de Humo

WORDS WRITTEN BY CHARLES BUKOWSKI
WORDS READ BY CHARLES BUKOWSKI
MUSIC BY DEEPLY DAZZLED

 I'VE LAID IN BED ALL DAY
BUT
THERE'S NOTHING REALLY YOU CAN DO EASILY

LIVE 
OR DIE
IT'S ALL HARD
IT'S ALL HARD

LIVE OR DIE
IT'S ALL HARD

LET ME HAVE ANOTHER BEER HERE

AND I WAIT WITHOUT WONDER

WE HAVE DONE THIS TO OURSELVES

AND I WAIT WITHOUT WONDER

WE DESERVE THIS 

AND I WAIT WITHOUT WONDER

WE HAVE DONE THIS TO OURSELVES

I'VE LAID IN BED ALL DAY
BUT
THERE'S NOTHING REALLY YOU CAN DO EASILY

LIVE 
OR DIE
IT'S ALL HARD
IT'S ALL HARD


THEN HE HEARD THE SHOTS

THEN IT WAS QUIET


LIVE OR DIE
IT'S ALL HARD

Recorded in 2013 
On a Windows XP Computer that died ten years later.

Live or Die

Thanks for tuning in.  Stripped Down, Raw and Real songs complete with flaws are what you'll find here.  Write on, Songsters! 

Much love from the USA,
Renee

Emerging from the quiet edges of rural Louisiana, Poppa (aka Rivers) crafts soundscapes that live between worlds — where Primitive Ambient textures meet Lo-fi Soul, Indie grit, and Experimental pulse. Drawing on a wide emotional spectrum, Poppa’s music blends dusty analog warmth with glitchy digital haze, channeling the raw spirit of Jazzy Blues, Electronic minimalism, and Art Rock storytelling.

Each track feels like a sonic diary entry — vulnerable, spacious, and unpredictable. With a DIY ethos and genre-blurring instincts, Poppa creates music for deep nights, wandering minds, and anyone searching for meaning in distortion.

Whether floating through ambient dreamscapes or crackling over lo-fi rhythms, Poppa’s sound resists easy classification — but resonates with listeners craving truth, texture, soul & noise.

💟💌💘❤️💔🖤❤️‍🩹🤍💫💥🧡❣️



To everyone that knows their importance to Me, for all of you I am forever indebted. (JJ, Henri, Lance, Jobb, Megan, Ariel Buster, Nicky, Krystle, Postmaster, Sheets, Luther, Jeff, Joshua, Ruan, Sloth, Redneck, & Gil).

TO ALL MY YAMAKAITIS and MESTAYER FAMILY, FRIENDS, NEIGHBORS, ACQUAINTANCES. I LOVE YOU ALL
 {Poppa}

The lyrics are mine, and I make the music using AI

Bookings only privat! Contact here or follow Instagram or Facebook link 

¡Shpiln di griln tantsn di vantsn!
The emptiness of various Corona lockdowns made Focke the Fockmaster. Musically, he tried out various styles to end up where everything once ended. Techno. 
With classical eight-year music training on the cello, pubescent excursions into New Wave music, everything followed a logic at the end of the 90s. Techno.

¡Shpiln di griln tantsn di vantsn!
Die Leere diverser Corona-Lockdowns machte Focke zum Fockmaster. Musikalisch probierte er sich stilistisch divers aus, um am Ende dorthin zu gelangen, wo alles einst endete. Techno. 
Mit klassischer achtjähriger Musikausbildung am Violoncello, pubertären Ausflügen in die New Wave Musik folgte Ende der 90er Jahre alles einer Logik. Techno.

Music Studio, covering any genre, any kind of artist.

Toco teclado desde los 9 años. Compositor desde los 16 años (2003). Más de 50 canciones de Rap. Decenas de canciones de otros géneros musicales; de Reggae, Rock, Folk Cantautor, New Age, Trap, Disco...

Based here now, who knows where next...but always Xperimenting with sounds. Pictures typically mine.
I use this platform for finding new music to listen to. Gimme new stuff!
I love producing. For the full UX, use 🎧 you will not regret it.
All tracks are AI-free.
https://www.youtube.com/@pierrebernasconi1010/videos

Hardware: Minilogue, Cobalt 8x, LTD guitar, Focusrite, FX pedals
Software: Reaper DAW and too many VSTs 😁

“Books are finite, sexual encounters are finite, but the desire to read and to fuck is infinite; it surpasses our own deaths, our fears, our hopes for peace.”
~Roberto Bolano

satire, parodie, sit down comedy en poëzie: radio prostaat, waar het om gaat:  Vlaamse wereldradio, voor de rijpere luisteraar.
Alain Mazijn (Oostende 1960) is mede aanstichter van radio stad in Antwerpen in 1981.
40 jaar maakt hij geen radio meer.
Als jonge cabaretier is hij samen met Hans de Booij het muziektheaterduo CIRCUS STUPIDO.
Als horecaman start hij in Antwerpen tussen 1980 en 1991 de stadskroeg, het swingcafé en grand café salto mortale.
Als festivalpromotor van het Nederlandstalige lied organiseert hij tussen 1988 en 2007 het festival pop Vlaanderen op 10 en 11 juli op de groenplaats in Antwerpen.
Vanaf 2007 maakt hij muziek en teksttheaterproducties voor het productiehuis BLAUW VZW, muziektheater.be
In het coronajaar 21 start hij radio prostaat op:
de Vlaamse wereldradio voor de rijpere luisteraar.
DE DRUPPEL is zijn wekelijkse radioshow met chanson, jazz, satire, parodie, sit-downcomedy en poëzie. De rest volgt. ;)

tambien conocido como san hemidactylus mabouia

New tracks tagged #Bukowski