Category: The New Verse Movement
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Once Long ago She would bring me her Gifts Decadence Fine wine Fame And Friends. Never ending parties And beautiful words Magnificent and dressed in Black, poetry written and Cloaked in mystery and In the eternal darkness Of the night. And now? These days She just brings me A six pack…
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Burn by R.M. Engelhardt in the night december the cold wind, the frozen world stands still like an abstract like a painting without motion. without sound. smoke & the harsh light of streetlamps, reality dirt white city sidewalks and the panhandlers at the bus stop telling their tale their stories to buy another bottle or…
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The Visionary …All men should possess a ‘visionary faculty’. Men do not, because they live wrongly. They live too tensely, under too much strain, ‘getting and spending’. But this loss of the visionary faculty is not entirely man’s fault, it is partly the fault of the world he lives in, that demands that men should…
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THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood— Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time. The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry Of bugles going by. And my lonely spirit…
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Epitaph for The lost poem Which contained Everything And nothing. Touched everyone, anyone Who desired The mystery of mysteries Words of words, which brought forth Language Both blessed & cursed us Married us, buried us and parted The heavens and the Deep blue seas …
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The Dead Crooner. THE DEAD CROONER This ain’t the story of Bing Crosby. And sure as shit ain’t the story of Sinatra or Fred Astaire either. This is a story unfit for Bobbie-soxers & the elderly. And this is not the story of some sentimental journey, a very very long-time “ago”. So let’s all get…
