NIGHT WALKING SometimesWe get lonely SometimesWe feel alone It doesn't really matterIn a world of a billion peopleMore than that inhabitingThe earth It's just a matterOf the dark And the light We walk throughCities & crowdedStreets but all thesePeople are strangers You can get a drinkAt the bar or justLook into the eyesOf passerbys All … Continue reading Night Walking
R.M. Engelhardt Poem
Shadows By R.M. Engelhardt
Within each man a shadow exists. The shadow of his past.The shadow of his future. And the shadow of all the things heCould have been. ~ R.M. Engelhardt
nOpE ~A poem by R.M. Engelhardt
In the beginning was the word, the wordThat from the solid bases of the lightAbstracted all the letters of the void;And from the cloudy bases of the breathThe word flowed up, translating to the heartFirst characters of birth and death. ~ Dylan Thomas,In The Beginning NoPe The 1st poem wasn'tWritten in EnglishIn fact it wasn'tWritten … Continue reading nOpE ~A poem by R.M. Engelhardt
I SING OF THE BODY DISSECTED. A Poem By R.M. Engelhardt
art*poem by r.m. Engelhardt ©2022 I SING OF THE BODY DISSECTED So let us now allSing or if you believe Pray Not of these golden daysBut in this dead choir of reprieveOf anguish of suffering of days Let us all sing of the 21st centuryOf all our failures & the falseTriumphs & of the true … Continue reading I SING OF THE BODY DISSECTED. A Poem By R.M. Engelhardt
The Common Man By R.M. Engelhardt
THE COMMON MAN The Common ManSits in the workplaceBreaks his back inThe factory & writesPoetry On the side Doesn't giveTwo shits aboutWhat the big wide worldThinks too busyTo deal with thoseWho have superiorityComplexes Issues & Destroys themAll with a mereSentence Moves on Keeps writing The Common ManSees what is & whatCould be Could've been CelebratesLife … Continue reading The Common Man By R.M. Engelhardt
The Last Real Poet
The Last Real Poet By R.M. Engelhardt THE LAST REAL POET The last real poetSits alone by himselfSomewhere in a cabinIn Upstate NYAround the age of 95 Still alive But they all forgot about himYears Ago The prizesThe many lives manyLoves he had once His memory fadesFrom time to timeUnsure if it was all real … Continue reading The Last Real Poet