OF CONVERSATIONS FRIENDS & ANGELS Today I come to you In the memory Of old friends Conversation Over lost time And lost years That have Mysteriously Vanished In both tragedy And revelation Grief And silence Detached from This mere Mortal coil To remember them; They who were Once here and They who once loved … Continue reading OF CONVERSATIONS, FRIENDS & ANGELS
Albany NY
POETS & WRITERS STAND AGAINST TRUMP 01.20.2017 AT 8PM
On Friday, January 20th Donald J. Trump will be sworn in as The President of the United States of America. This will be a very sad day indeed. And as poets and writers everywhere we need to speak up and say what needs to be said, and share those words with our nation … Continue reading POETS & WRITERS STAND AGAINST TRUMP 01.20.2017 AT 8PM
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Curve
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Age
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“Revealed”
Spontaneous Combustion, March, 2046 http://thepoemremains.com/the-bones-of-our-existence-r-m-engelhardt
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Hank Says
I can’t teach you how to write, and anybody who says they can is full of shit.” — Hank Moody
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The Bones of Our Existence, A Journal 2046 Coming March 15th …
In the dark times Will there also be singing? Yes, there will also be singing About the dark times.” — Bertolt Brecht R.M. Engelhardt‘s new book The Bones of Our Existence, A Journal 2046 will be revealed March 15, 2016 online and is “an entirely new concept in regards to the way the book is … Continue reading The Bones of Our Existence, A Journal 2046 Coming March 15th …
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The Future Is Coming …
Q. The Future is Coming. What Are You Going To Do ? A: I think I’ll have another glass of whiskey. - R.M. Engelhardt, The Bones of Our Existence 2016
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An Interview With R.M. Engelhardt, 2006
MICHAEL ECK Special to the Times Union Section: Arts-Events, Page: H1 Date: Sunday, October 29, 2006 R.M. Engelhardt wears black sunglasses in the shade. He chain-smokes Djarums until his head is wreathed in a clove-scented cloud. And, in the middle of the day, he sucks down coffee like a trucker on a midnight run. Engelhardt, … Continue reading An Interview With R.M. Engelhardt, 2006
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Picasso’s Poetry
whisper the shiver of hands blind without memory and so, friendly still yet sweet like the words forgotten to the tremble of lips quiet there are no surprises here rest your eyelids until they become stone rest your heart until it stops (it beats now only for itself in some secret place) http://www.cipherjournal.com/html/picasso_poems.html
R.M. ENGELHARDT 