Category: R.M. Engelhardt
R.M. Engelhardt
Poet, Writer And Author
Albany, NY
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STEVE KILBEY Steve Kilbey (born 13 September 1954, Welwyn Garden City, England) is the lead singer-songwriter and bass guitarist for The Church, an Australian rock band. He is also a music producer, poet, and painter. Kilbey began his professional music career at age 17 when he joined a “cabaret band”. He then joined Precious Little,…
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Somebody Else: Arthur Rimbaud in Africa Charles Nicholl Random House, 1997 335pp ISBN: 0-224-04376-5 Reviewed by Ann Skea “…one might glimpse an underlying motive of the African years – to recover something elemental and primitive, an ancient feast, a mythologized childhood, an antidote to Europe corrupted by sophistication and pretence.” Charles Nicholl’s comments on Rimbaud…
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Childhood. III In the woods there is a bird; his song stops you and makes you blush. There is a clock that never strikes. There is a hollow with a nest of white beasts. There is a cathedral that goes down and a lake that goes up. There is a little carriage abandoned in the…
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Poem By R.M. Engelhardt. June 2011 Poem “Burn” In Red Fez
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THE SAINT POEM READING SERIES AN OPEN MIC FOR POETS & WRITERS Monday, June 20 · 8:00pm – 11:00pm Upstate Artists Guild247 LARK STREETAlbany, NY THE SAINT POEM READING SERIESAN OPEN MIC FOR POETS, POETRY & THE SPOKEN WORDMONDAY, JUNE 20th At The UAG: Featured Poet : AVERY STEMPELBIO: Avery Stempel has been writing poetry and…
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IN THE ABSENCE OF LIGHTS Dark-mirrored hallways A dim precision march Here we have tread before Without fear/Well measured Pagan desires and objective Study. Pavlov’s dog is still Breathing, his cigarette falls To the floor and he dances like a manic animal. Lost in the headlights, accidents shall occur once more. There are no excuses…
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A Soldier’s Winter The day before it wasn’t snowing. The trees are strangers, leering, disapproving in the ash of winter ..my world, my life, my wandering path. I pray God’s eyes may once again gaze upon me and remind me that I am still His child. ~ Poem Written By A Poet Of The Near…
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GHOST OF MY TOOTH From bone to blood to grave.The tongues of women in countless waves,Ripped from socket, torn from safe Inside. Survivor of fights & broken pieces, wordsPronounced and apologies given, Pliers Ripped from socket, torn from safe Inside. Pain is passing, mortality as well. I intern you to a place Upon my shelf.…
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Ian Curtis put an end to his life the night of May 18, 1980, two days before the roadshow to the United States. The lead singer of Joy Division played “The Idiot” of Iggy Pop in his pickup and hung himself in his kitchen in Macclesfield, leaving a short note: “This moment I would want…
