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
  • National Poetry Month 24′. A Damn Good Time For Change ~ DEAD MAN’S PRESS INK

    National Poetry Month 24′. A Damn Good Time For Change ~ DEAD MAN’S PRESS INK

    SO LET’S BE HONEST.

    It’s time to CREATE THE NEW.

    #NationalPoetryMonth2024

    Support new poets, new ideas & new forms of poetry events. Support small press poetry where most of the new voices & and events are coming from. Let’s be original & let’s support a poetry community that is looking to change the face of poetry itself. Why wallow in the past and use tired, worn out dead ideas and events that only benefit students, academic institutions and those looking to make the art of writing into a stage competition when it’s about what you write? New voices cannot thrive in dead waters already over exploited. It’s time for a change. And that’s exactly what #DEADMANSPRESSINK is and has always been all about .

    *Join us in creating new ways to see, hear and experience poetry.

    WAKE UP.

    IT’S THE 21st CENTURY.

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt, Editor Dead Man’s Press Ink Albany NY

    #deadmanspressink #albanyny #invocationalbany

  • BUKOWSKI ON PARALLEL EARTH

    BUKOWSKI ON PARALLEL EARTH

    BUKOWSKI ON PARALLEL EARTH

    Sometimes I wonder
    If Bukowski’s still alive
    Somewhere on a parallel world

    Where he writes cute poems
    About happy rainbows, puppies
    And kittens

    Whereas
    All the politically correct
    Poets & haters on that world

    Get drunk all day & go
    To the racetrack

    And they all just keep on hating him

    Because
    No matter what he writes
    Or what he says

    Is still more powerful
    & real than they can even
    Fathom

    Upon any

    World

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2024

  • THE UNNECESSARY ANGEL OF POETRY

    THE UNNECESSARY ANGEL OF POETRY

    THE UNNECESSARY ANGEL OF POETRY

    One-day
    Soon after the glamor had faded

    The sun ate all her flowers
    Her milk & honey

    As Taylor toured America
    Inspiring poetic amnesia
    To kids

    As old poems & memories
    Died hard & rotted in their graves

    The dirt

    All lost to a McGeneration
    Without focus

    Without hope

    Rhyming incoherently
    Attempting consciousness

    As someone random
    An unremarkable wannabe
    In Chicago in 1984 gave
    A young genius, the next
    Shakespeare “A Five”

    Never to return to the mic
    Again or write again

    Taking the despair of a 9 to 5 job
    Employed by hopelessness as
    Dreams die hard due to arrogance
    & the lack of true spirit

    True words
    &
    True soul

    Oh and where o where
    Have you been published?
    Said the old poet who
    Didn’t quite fit in

    As the children all laughed
    Never knowing that their
    McOverused McGimmick will never even
    Be remembered

    Seeking temporary glory
    & fame, applause and few dollars

    Upon a stage

    HEY!

    Who’s Wallace Stevens?

    Who’s read Keats?

    Have you ever even heard of Walt Whitman?!

    They all looked puzzled
    Appearing almost as smart
    As Kanye West

    Trying to actually seem smart
    But couldn’t even find the words

    After they had already paid $20.00 at the door
    With the loss of more
    Than ever won

    But now?

    To them it’s still all a MCcontest

    The longing to be a gangsta or
    Rapper but not a poet

    No

    Not a poet

    Or a writer

    (Eminem had no comment)

    And Tupac
    Who was a true poet, a writer
    Died from too much exposure

    In real time
    In his end

    As the hordes & whores
    Of Instablab saw dollar signs
    And created false
    Celebrities

    Overnight

    And although
    All these years have
    Passed

    Revolution & evolution
    Are merely the ideas
    Of a commercial enterprise

    As the true voices continue
    To fight for the light, the ground which
    They had lost

    As the unnecessary angel
    Now sits in a posh expensive McOffice
    Somewhere in Los Angeles

    Looking for the next fad
    To make a bundle on

    Has never actually opened
    A book of poetry or a poetry journal
    In his life

    Throws them out
    If received

    As Henry Rollins
    & Lydia Lunch
    Said it best

    As Sun Ra
    & Artaud
    Created genius
    In its wake

    That the words
    The poem is the all
    And the everything

    Try not to
    Fuck it up

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2024

  • AN ODE TO THE DOLLAR STORE

    AN ODE TO THE DOLLAR STORE

    An ode to the dollar store
    Where once everything, every
    Item was once a dollar the tp, the
    Candles the candy the knock offs
    Of Barbies & all the superhero

    Dolls

    Now

    All a dollar twenty-five

    My old uncle used to tell
    Me stories, urban legends
    As a child about how comic
    Books once only cost five cents
    And a cold bottle of beer fifteen

    But now whenever I go
    Looking for cheap items
    Of grandeur I see the products
    Are even more cheaply made
    Than they used to be

    For example
    The toilet paper that
    Disintegrates in your hand and the
    Small bag of coffee that
    Has no smell or flavor
    The band aids that
    Come off ten minutes after
    Placed upon an open

    Wound

    That doesn’t heal

    But as poetry
    I see this as a concern
    A reflection of our billionaire
    Corporate run society
    A sign of the times as where
    The only leaders & politicians
    Left are more worth less than the
    Actual dollar and their conscience
    Is worth far less than fifteen

    Cents

    And I ask

    Where’s our free or cheap
    Healthcare and all the well paying
    Jobs & the glorious democracy, grand
    Civilization that you had promised?

    Because it’s evident
    That people have to shop
    At the dollar and twenty-five
    Cents store because you have
    Taken all our money to buy
    Mansions and weapons

    For yourselves

    Giving yourselves
    Raises annually while
    There are children starving

    Leaving the poor and all of the rest
    With all the shitty knock off products
    As a tribute to your pathetic
    Positions of authority
    And insatiable

    Greed

    Your fake items
    A testament to your complete
    And fake humanity

    In a con man
    Nation of
    Bullshit

    And apathy

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2024

  • JOHNNY COOL IS DEAD

    JOHNNY COOL IS DEAD

    Another actor
    Another rock star
    Another hipster
    Another death

    See it

    On social media
    The posts
    & the tributes

    He was an original
    Such an amazing talent
    Amazing person

    Damn.

    Shit.

    Fuck.

    He’s gone

    He sang that song
    Wrote that book
    Y’know he starred
    In that movie

    Unforgettable

    Damn

    Fuck

    Shit

    Johnny Cool
    Is Dead

    A hero
    An icon

    A star

    Soon to be replaced
    By another carbon copy

    Who will represent
    All the things we have
    Never become

    All the things that
    We wanted to be or
    Wanted to say when
    We were young

    Fuck

    Shit

    Damn

    Johnny Cool
    Is Dead

    Just another reminder
    That we will never
    Just be ourselves

    Again

    Throwing all our
    Hopes & dreams
    Upon somebody else

    Like a sacrifice
    In the wind

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2024

  • Doomsday Song

    Doomsday Song

    DOOMSDAY SONG

    Light up another smoke
    See the fire

    Dream in other realms

    Could this have been a better life?

    A better world?

    Light up another smoke
    See the fire

    Smell the ashes burn

    It’s just another
    Day in paradise

    Enjoy it while you can

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2024

  • THE LUNACY OF POETS

    THE LUNACY OF POETS

    THE LUNACY OF POETS

    One poet agrees
    With your political
    Views but his overgrown
    Ego perpetuates pure
    Jealousy

    Attacks you
    On social media
    Because you have more
    Followers

    Gets blocked &
    His ass kicked
    Publicly

    Meanwhile
    Another one
    Has a fake profile
    & pretends to be
    A caring soul

    Turns out to be
    A fascist troll
    Playing a game

    Not a writer
    Or a poet
    But some “Thing”
    With a complex
    Called “Hate”

    Stuck
    Up his rectum
    Which is directly connected
    To his brain

    And these are the
    Reasons why poets
    Become jaded having
    To tolerate not only
    The shit from a botched
    Society but from their
    Own profession

    You’ve wrote
    Worked hard
    Over the years to
    Create something
    Amazing

    New

    Only to have to
    Deal with the desperation
    Of others who dislike the
    Struggling that made you
    Who you are today

    And yet?

    As writers neither
    Of you make a living
    Or a single paycheck
    From all the words you’ve had
    Printed out on paper

    In a world where a mere taste
    A small amount of
    Both glory & fame
    Betray us all

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2024

    *The lesson of this poem?
    Don’t be a dick.

  • THE POETRY OF THE 21ST CENTURY

    THE POETRY OF THE 21ST CENTURY

    THE POETRY OF THE 21ST CENTURY

    Standing out in the cold
    Writing a poem
    That no one will ever

    Read

    This is the way
    The life of a poet

    Capturing the light
    Within the dark for
    No one but the here &
    There and not the everyone
    Of everywhere

    Only in the shadows
    Of brief humanity
    Do we wander
    In a new century

    The crowds
    The masses
    Only searching
    For the next big

    Thing

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2024

  • THE FEAST OF IMMORTALS

    THE FEAST OF IMMORTALS

    THE FEAST OF IMMORTALS

    The banquet begins.

    The first serving
    On the menu is the
    Poor the taste of their
    Devastation & suffering

    Exquisite

    An appetizer
    Baked by the scumlords
    The landlords who keep
    Raising their rents forcing
    The hardworking & the once
    Middle class to their knees

    Delicious

    The profit
    The disease &
    The dance of joy
    And of knowing that
    They are never going to
    Be a threat

    Beaten down by
    Smiling billionaires
    With all their own jets

    It tastes like apathy
    Like greed

    Keeping them all in their place

    While the waiters
    The controllers of
    Wall Street & banks
    Prepare the second course

    Healthcare &
    Pharmaceutical companies

    Profiting off the sick the
    Disabled & the elderly
    Who can’t afford it

    But hey?

    Who gives a shit?
    Who gives a fuck about them?
    Who cares?

    We’re just doing great
    Supplying more corpses
    To the funeral directors
    Graveyards and cremation
    Ovens

    You should try it
    One billionaire says

    It smells just like more money

    Magnifique !

    And then, finally the
    Greatest main course
    The Entrée

    Ground from the bodies
    Of all the young dead soldiers
    Who they brainwashed
    With political banter & heroic
    Tales inconsequential for
    Their checkbooks & investments
    In weapons, land and oil
    Made with the finest deceptions
    By the purchased politicians
    Of a capitalist state

    Who BrownNose
    Them during bathroom
    Breaks but aren’t allowed
    To sit at their tables

    ( It’s beneath them to mingle with)

    And for dessert?

    The most tasty thing

    Hatred from the powerless masses
    Who they mock and laugh at
    Calling them ” lazy”
    While they offer them more
    Credit cards and mortgages
    They can’t pay

    How disgusting !

    The one billionaire states

    Throw them all in jail
    So they can’t keep
    Reciting the truth

    Plllllleeeeaaaaassseeee

    I hope that you all enjoyed
    Your portion of democracy

    Now government
    If you please wipe our
    Asses & go fetch our
    Limousines

    Here’s a few million
    As a tip

    And btw?

    The wine tasted like
    Illuminati

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2024

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