Category: Poems
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The Bones of Our Existence Book Release: March 15th, 2016 at 12 Midnight http://www.thepoemremains.com Source: Upcoming Events
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Post-Apocalyptic Poetry poetry news
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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…
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NO MORE 11.14.2015 I will be silent I shall not speak of death I shall not speak of these things Anymore For when I was a young man I believed in peace Before towers fell And soldiers died And after blood And the media Monsters Vultures Took the place Of lives Of hopes Of…
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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,…
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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
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An interview with old friend and cofounder of Albany Poets Mr. Thom Francis about the Albany poetry scene, new projects and something about a new book : Listen Here: https://m.soundcloud.com/albany-poets/the-albany-poets-interview-rm-engelhardt http://www.albanypoets.com
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CREATE THE BOOK http://www.gofundme.com/poetrymatters
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The most important things to do in the world are to get something to eat, something to drink and somebody to love you. ~ Brendan Behan Happy St. Patrick’s Day
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I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that…
