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
  • Bohemian Soul, Poem R.M. Engelhardt

    Bohemian Soul, Poem R.M. Engelhardt

    Bohemian Soul ~ R.M. Engelhardt

    BOHEMIAN SOUL

    Bohemian Soul
    No Overlords
    Freedom & Democracy

    The Past
    Still Remains

    In The Future

    For We Are The Caretakers
    Of The Human Race, The Earth,
    The Skies & The Seas

    The Denizens
    Of the Underground
    The Keepers Of The Peace

    Unchained

    Bowing Down To No Man
    No Monsters
    No Kings

    Burn Down Our House
    And We’ll Rebuild It
    We’ll Tear Down Your
    Swastikas And Knock
    Down Every Racist That
    Insults Our Being

    Like Walt Whitman

    With A Protest Sign
    Standing At Every Corner
    Of The Earth

    For Are We Capable Of
    Violence?

    Yes
    If Necessary

    For To Be Free Means
    To Stand Up For Every Single
    Mortal
    Soul

    Every Animal
    Every Human Being
    And Every Breath Of Every
    Creature

    For Humanity
    Shall Not Cease

    And Our Numbers Only Grow
    And Multiply In This Place

    Poets
    Artists
    Accountants

    It Doesn’t Matter Who
    We Are Making Our Path
    Through This Burning World

    Our Voices
    Our Fearlessness

    Stands

    And Never
    Surrenders

    Bohemian Soul
    No Overlords
    Freedom & Democracy

    The Dream Of A World
    That’s Better

    That Lives

    That Cares

    And Against It All

    We Shall Win
    And Cannot Be

    Defeated

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2026

  • Every Tyrant

    Every Tyrant

  • Perchance

    Perchance

    PERCHANCE

    The night is far too humid

    Misery

    Older than I wish to be
    My spirit younger than some

    Sitting outside on an old
    Wooden chair having a smoke
    And a beer

    In the summer time

    Like another old Bob Seger song
    Reminiscing about the days
    Gone by

    Past days
    Past lives

    The thrill of it all

    A time that has never lost
    It’s soul

    Or heart

    Solitude though I find
    Is far better

    Knowing
    Exactly who you are

    And the idea of death
    Doesn’t really scare me

    But the state of the world still does

    Someday
    The very thought of leaving behind
    A shit show world that never had
    The freedom to grow, the chance
    To thrive

    That now, younger generations
    Will have to fix and clean up

    And history
    Is never kind to us

    Our voices lost admist
    The screams and the blood

    Gen X
    Boomers

    Protest

    Etc

    The good people of our times
    Just thrown in a pile with the
    Sick demented bastard ones

    The artists of our time viewed
    As possibly contributing nothing

    And that’s the rub

    The curse of being someone
    Something different

    Recognized
    As the same

    After the party’s over
    And all the music has died

    And the fools pushing entertainment
    To blot out reality keep talking & talking
    Carry on
    Carry on

    Because everybody wants a good time
    Because everybody bullshits themselves and says

    Hey
    Not my problem

    But who told us we were responsible?

    Who told us we owed this country or
    Planet anything back?

    Bury me in the backyard
    Bury me in the city park

    It doesn’t matter

    But I’d rather write
    And try to do my part

    Simply because
    That’s who I am

    And what I do

    Perchance it’s all a
    Dream

    Trying to keep away
    The nightmares

    I need another beer
    Because the chaos isn’t
    Quiet enough

    And people
    Keep getting killed
    And shot

    Carry on
    Carry on

    Carry on

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2026

  • IN APOCALYPSE FASHION

    IN APOCALYPSE FASHION

    IN APOCALYPSE FASHION

    False heroes
    Walk down the streets
    Of America with swastika
    Flags

    Drones following
    The words

    Of a rapist
    And a spoiled little
    Fascist

    The cult
    Of red hat
    Stupidity

    Mediocrity

    The cult & portrayal of
    Christianity destroying
    Democracy & freedom

    In a country
    Barely out of
    It’s infancy

    250
    Years of degradation
    The killing of human beings
    With the appointed names
    Of minorities, Native Americans
    Black communities, prison camps
    For Asians & Latinos all in the
    Pursuit of greed

    And money

    Land
    And supremacy
    And control

    Some progress here
    And there made

    Always thwarted by evil pricks
    Oligarchs & lesser human beings

    Without souls

    But the grand parade
    Goes on

    Celebrating the ideas
    Of a group of men
    Who had a new vision

    Twisted by the self appointed
    And proclaimed

    The words of intelligent
    Thinkers & men seeking
    Freedom forgotten

    Our current world too
    Wrapped up in escapism
    & distracted by lies

    Adams & Jefferson

    Turning over
    In their graves

    Along with all the young
    Men who once
    Fought & died for a democracy

    But instead
    Left its caretaking to
    Lesser men who
    All take

    But don’t know the meaning

    Of give

    In a shallow place
    A dead land of
    Apocalypse fashion

    Blood & chaos

    Capitalism

    Murder

    The betrayal of
    Independence

    And it’s true voice

    The experiment
    Has failed

    It’s meaning
    Is dead

    And everything
    That was done in it’s
    Name

    Is now nothing

    But a joke

    With the punchline:

    All men are created
    Equal …

    Human rights matter

    Enjoy your fireworks
    Because there isn’t
    Anything else

    That’s left to love
    Or burn

    For we are the witnesses
    Of a dream

    That’s dead.

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2026

  • The Dying Time : Poems By R.M. Engelhardt

    The Dying Time 2026 ~ R.M. Engelhardt

    pick up your copy now …

  • LARK STREET LIVES ON

    Thank You Albany NY

  • Thank You Albany NY

    Someone I don’t know just sent this to me about an hour ago.

    Needless to say I wasn’t expecting it.

    Apparently they did some research about my recent argument & disagreement regarding the methods & tactics of a sad excuse of an egotistical human being who blatantly misuses & exploits the people who are down and out and in need of help on Lark Street just a few days ago. He didn’t like me standing up against him & his audience of trolls after he initially attacked me for defending my post & opinions about his abuse of filming and using people to gain followers.

    So of course, he blocked me.

    But this, these words still tell me apparently that standing up for others or standing up for what you believe in still means something in this world and even in Albany NY and on Lark Street it still matters as well.

    So. You have now renewed my faith in people, and in fighting for what most people consider lost causes.

    Thank you.

    This means a lot to me.

    Best~

    R.M. Engelhardt

    Poet.

    Albany, NY

  • POETRY FOR POETRY’S SAKE

    POETRY FOR
    POETRY’S SAKE

    The poem
    Is from the
    Other side

    A place
    Unknown

    And you

    Are only it’s
    Instrument &
    Servant

    Bringing forth
    The light

    Without reason

    Or even asking

    Why?

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt
    ©2026

  • Sonny Crockett

    Sonny Crockett
  • Sonny Crockett

    Sonny Crockett

    SONNY CROCKETT

    Sonny Crockett stands

    Smoking a cigarette on

    The corner somewhere 

    In Miami 

    He used to be

    A undercover cop, a detective 

    Now an old man 

    Fashionably dressed

    In an old white suit & 

    A day-glow green t-shirt 

    He scratches the

    Stuble of his white

    Scruffy beard, his gray

    Long hair magnificent 

    Under the mid day sun

    Kids drive by on

    Motorized bikes 

    And laugh at him 

    Screaming ” Hey 80s guy!

    Whatcha doin’ round here?!”

    ” Looking for some Viagra?!”

    Sonny lowers and 

    Slowly shakes his head

    Rico moved back to NYC 

    Years ago

    Sonny’s kids don’t 

    Call him because 

    He wasn’t there for 

    Them and have 

    Families of their own

    So Sonny 

    Does what he did

    Back in the day 

    And calls the Miami 

    Police department 

    Whenever he sees 

    A drug deal go down 

    But they are tired of 

    All his everyday calls,

    And ignore him joking:

    “Oh God, it’s that Sonny guy again “

    Why don’t you just go

    Back to the old folks home

    And play some bingo? Ok?

    Sonny feels that

    They aren’t doing their job

    Sonny believes that the

    World has gone to shit

    Wondering what he

    Has been fighting for 

    All these years

    So Sonny takes the bus home

    No longer able to drive 

    Fancy sports cars supplied 

    By the department 

    No gun, no longer 

    The hero, a man without 

    Purpose

    The drug dealers 

    Laugh at him, and the women 

    No longer notice him at all

    “What happened to America?”

    Sonny says. 

    And tries to stop some Federal 

    Agents in masks from harassing & beating

    Up some Hispanic children getting 

    Thrown into a black & unmarked van

    Reaches in his coat pocket 

    To show his old badge

    And gets shot dead at point 

    Blank  because they said

    He was reaching for a weapon 

    Now an old man 

    Fashionably dressed

    Lying dead on the street

    With blood all over 

    An old white suit & in

    A day-glow green t-shirt 

    All heroes die

    In the air tonight 

    And no one cares

    Anymore

    ~ R.M. Engelhardt

    ©2026