“I Hear America Screaming” by R.M. Engelhardt

I hear America screaming, the varied lies I daily hear, Those of politicians, each one singing their own tune for each and themselves alone, And in the background; The soldier crying as the d…

Source: “I Hear American Screaming” by R.M. Engelhardt

IN THE KINGDOM OF NIGHT (Be Thankful)

R.M. ENGELHARDT

Night

Be thankful.

For round you,

Thy life there is a world

Without conscience

Without light.

To;

All thee who live

And all thee who strive

Strife may not as yet

Have touched your bones.

So

Be thankful.

For the lark & the light

And the music of the night

And its kingdom.

So far from the dark

And apart from those times

A better world that

Is still trying

To be a better world.

So

Be thankful.

For the child, and the heart

And the happiness & time

The seasons and the soul and 

The hope that our kind,

Keeps.

So

Give thanks.

For in the true

Kingdom of Night

There is no love to find,

No beauty, no truth no meaning

And no time

No time

To live

Or be 

Or love

Or find

You.

So

Be thankful

For it is not merely

The act of being alive,

Survival 

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POET ?

POET ?

I smoke in the ashes
Of my own myth

Follow the voices in my
Head that say “Record these
Moments”

Become another soothsayer
Of another century, another
Shadow treading light

There are thousands
Like me

Thousands searching
Everyday

Perhaps for God
Perhaps for themselves

Perhaps for no one

For they live and re-live
Words, language

Alone

And call themselves

Poets

THE GRIM REAPER NEEDS A HOBBY

C__Data_Users_DefApps_AppData_INTERNETEXPLORER_Temp_Saved Images_tumblr_ogkth5JfR41rssi62o1_1280.jpgThe grim reaper must be lonely
Or perhaps God is, sending him
Fishing for musicians, poets & actors, jesters and the like.
Or maybe the reaper was just bored in a place where it’s always
Dark and never light.

So he decided to play a joke on us
And made our new leader the joke
Itself.

Yes, this year the reaper has been quite busy lining up all his stops

Playing with the chessboard in the
Basement and taking the muse’s pawns

And has left us all to sink or swim
And find new ones to inspire
Generations to fight the dark as well

Or maybe just so he
Can play the game
Again

~ R.M.

I Hear America Screaming

I Hear America Screaming
(Inspired by Walt Whitman)

I hear America screaming, the varied lies I daily hear,

Those of politicians, each one singing their own tune   for each and themselves alone,

And in the background;

The soldier crying  as the doctor measures his amputee  leg,

The businessman singing  as he makes his fortune off others misfortunes and then sails off & away to the Bahamas,

The single mother asking what she shall feed her starving children, praying every night

The  old dying man mumbling, sleeping on the park bench, with no place left to go

The last animals dying as they breathe in the toxic fumes as they fall from the trees and wires

The union man’s song, the blue collar worker on his way in the morning,
Just to find the factory closed down

The beautiful singing of the daughter, or of the young wife taking care of her mother in her final days because she couldn’t afford a hospital at home

Each American singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, and never believing in sharing

For this day is what belongs to the day—the night always another beginning

Truth screaming with open mouths against an America in it’s very last glories and days

~ R.M.