R.M. ENGELHARDT

Poet Writer Author Albany NY

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R.M. Engelhardt is an American poet, writer and author who over the last three decades has published over 20 books of poetry including “Nod” “Alchemy” DarkLands, RAW & “The Last Cigarette: The Collected Poems of R.M. Engelhardt. The founder of the Upstate NY organization ALBANY POETS & the Annual Poetry Celebration THE ALBANY WORD FEST he has through his ideas & visions helped to contribute a large amount of advocacy and creativity to the Spoken Word~Poetry Capital District scene and is the former host of the long running readings The School of Night & Vox. He is currently the host of SPEAK THE WORD ALBANY!. An Open Mic for Poetry And The Spoken Word at Ophelias. Over the last thirty years his work has also been published in many journals such as The Rye Whiskey Review, Red Fez, Rusty Truck, Sure! The Charles Bukowski Newsletter, Thunder Sandwich, Black Noise, The Hobo Camp Review, Full of Crow, on the Outlaw Poetry Network & in many many others. Look for his books “WHERE THE PEOPLE’S VISION PERISHES 2020” “DARK LANDS (2019 on LuLu, Amazon & At Barnes and Noble) The Resurrection Waltz, 2012 ( Infinity Press) & “COFFEE ASS BLUES & OTHER POEMS” ( 2018 Alien Buddha Press 2018) ” DarkLands” 2019 & “Where There Is No Vision” 2020, “WE RISE LIKE SMOKE” (2021) & Of Spirit, Ash & Bone (2022) and RAW- Poems ( 2023) all available on Amazon.com He is also the Editor of the small independent poetry press Dead Man’s Press Ink since 1998. Look for his books The Bones of Our Existence A Journal 2046 & his new books THE DYING TIME POEMS BY R.M. Engelhardt 2026 & NO KINGS 2025 available at Barnes & Noble and currently on Amazon. www.gentlemanoutsider.com *All Poems, Writings & Information Contained On This Blog Are The Property & Owned By The Author R.M. Engelhardt. © 2026 www.rmengelhardt.com

Category: Inspiration

  • spring

    spring omnipotent goddess Thou … ~ e. e. cummings

  • Radauskas

    A MECHANICAL ANGEL A mechanical angel’s duties are not difficult: Govern lightning bolts, bring bread and wine, Watch through the window how flames climb the walls, Talk with street lamps about old times. A mechanical angel’s duties are not difficult: Feed chimeras in the tower every hundred years, Step softly so the metal will not…

  •                   In his grief-stricken dreams he sees her, joy and pain. He reaches out to touch, but her figure slips through his desperate arms and is gone, lost forever, drifting on the wings of sleep. ~ Aeschylus, Agamemnon

  • In Your Mind

    In Your Mind In your mind one foot on Jacob’s ladder and one foot in the fire and it all goes down in your mind Livin’ at the bottom of the stairs of life never a smile knockin’ on your door the air is blue and so are you prehistoric monsters on the floor Last…

  • Edward Thomas : The Poetry Foundation

    Edward Thomas : The Poetry Foundation. Edward Thomas 1878–1917 Adlestrop BY EDWARD THOMAS Yes. I remember Adlestrop— The name, because one afternoon Of heat the express-train drew up there Unwontedly. It was late June. The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat. No one left and no one came On the bare platform. What I saw Was…

  • America was …

    America was different. America was a river, roaring along, unmindful of the past. I could wade into this river, let my sins drown to the bottom, let the waters carry me someplace far. Someplace with no ghosts, no memories, and no sins. ~ Khaled Hosseini

  • Every Day …

    Everyday we lose a little part of ourselves to the rest of the world. The only thing we can do is save that part in our hearts, soul, retrieve it daily from the ashes And write. ~ R.M. Engelhardt

  • “you do sometimes look at yourself and think…you know, just sometimes, in between the first cigarette with coffee in the morning to that four hundredth glass of cornershop piss at 3am, you do sometimes look at yourself and think… “this is fantastic. I’m in heaven.” ~ Dylan Moran

  • The Dishonour of the Poets

      But his being a poet has made him a revolutionary who must fight on all terrains: on the terrain of poetry by appropriate means and on the terrain of social action, without ever confusing the two fields of action under penalty of re-establishing the confusion that is to be dissipated and consequently ceasing to…

  • Prose Hyperbole! From my memory Triumphantly can’t you Rise today, like sorcery From an iron-bound book or two: Since, through science, I inscribe The hymn of hearts so spiritual In my patient work, inside Atlas, herbal, ritual. We walked set our face (We were two, I maintain) Toward the many charms of place, Compared them,…