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

  • “I Hear America Screaming” by R.M. Engelhardt

    I hear America screaming, the varied lies I daily hear, Those of politicians, each one singing their own tune for each and themselves alone, And in the background; The soldier crying as the d…

    Source: “I Hear American Screaming” by R.M. Engelhardt

  • IN THE KINGDOM OF NIGHT (Be Thankful)

    IN THE KINGDOM OF NIGHT (Be Thankful)

    R.M. ENGELHARDT POET AUTHOR WRITER's avatarR.M. ENGELHARDT

    Night

    Be thankful.

    For round you,

    Thy life there is a world

    Without conscience

    Without light.

    To;

    All thee who live

    And all thee who strive

    Strife may not as yet

    Have touched your bones.

    So

    Be thankful.

    For the lark & the light

    And the music of the night

    And its kingdom.

    So far from the dark

    And apart from those times

    A better world that

    Is still trying

    To be a better world.

    So

    Be thankful.

    For the child, and the heart

    And the happiness & time

    The seasons and the soul and 

    The hope that our kind,

    Keeps.

    So

    Give thanks.

    For in the true

    Kingdom of Night

    There is no love to find,

    No beauty, no truth no meaning

    And no time

    No time

    To live

    Or be 

    Or love

    Or find

    You.

    So

    Be thankful

    For it is not merely

    The act of being alive,

    Survival 

    View original post 75 more words

  • POET ?

    POET ?

    POET ?

    I smoke in the ashes
    Of my own myth

    Follow the voices in my
    Head that say “Record these
    Moments”

    Become another soothsayer
    Of another century, another
    Shadow treading light

    There are thousands
    Like me

    Thousands searching
    Everyday

    Perhaps for God
    Perhaps for themselves

    Perhaps for no one

    For they live and re-live
    Words, language

    Alone

    And call themselves

    Poets

  • An Angel

    An Angel

    An angel runs
    Thru the sudden light
    Thru the room
    A ghost precedes us
    A shadow follows us
    And each time we stop
    We fall

  • THE GRIM REAPER NEEDS A HOBBY

    C__Data_Users_DefApps_AppData_INTERNETEXPLORER_Temp_Saved Images_tumblr_ogkth5JfR41rssi62o1_1280.jpgThe grim reaper must be lonely
    Or perhaps God is, sending him
    Fishing for musicians, poets & actors, jesters and the like.
    Or maybe the reaper was just bored in a place where it’s always
    Dark and never light.

    So he decided to play a joke on us
    And made our new leader the joke
    Itself.

    Yes, this year the reaper has been quite busy lining up all his stops

    Playing with the chessboard in the
    Basement and taking the muse’s pawns

    And has left us all to sink or swim
    And find new ones to inspire
    Generations to fight the dark as well

    Or maybe just so he
    Can play the game
    Again

    ~ R.M.

  • A Year of Sadness : The Half Dead Poets Review

    A Year of Sadness : The Half Dead Poets Review

    http://www.albanypoets.com/2016/11/half-dead-poet-review-year-sadness/

  • I Hear America Screaming

    c__data_users_defapps_appdata_internetexplorer_temp_saved-images_20150711_usp501-2I Hear America Screaming (Inspired by Walt Whitman) I hear America screaming, the varied lies I daily hear, Those of politicians, each one singing their own tune   for each and themselves alone, An…

    Source: I Hear America Screaming

  • I Hear America Screaming

    I Hear America Screaming
    (Inspired by Walt Whitman)

    I hear America screaming, the varied lies I daily hear,

    Those of politicians, each one singing their own tune   for each and themselves alone,

    And in the background;

    The soldier crying  as the doctor measures his amputee  leg,

    The businessman singing  as he makes his fortune off others misfortunes and then sails off & away to the Bahamas,

    The single mother asking what she shall feed her starving children, praying every night

    The  old dying man mumbling, sleeping on the park bench, with no place left to go

    The last animals dying as they breathe in the toxic fumes as they fall from the trees and wires

    The union man’s song, the blue collar worker on his way in the morning,
    Just to find the factory closed down

    The beautiful singing of the daughter, or of the young wife taking care of her mother in her final days because she couldn’t afford a hospital at home

    Each American singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, and never believing in sharing

    For this day is what belongs to the day—the night always another beginning

    Truth screaming with open mouths against an America in it’s very last glories and days

    ~ R.M.

  • The Poems of October by R.M. Engelhardt

    The Poems of October by R.M. Engelhardt

    RelicsThe burning smell of leavesHe dreams ofHer body stretched outUpon the bed.SamhainCold October.She wears a maskDrunken fucking to the rhythmOf the danceLike a final sacrifice toThe Gods.SheShe is the GodA Goddess inBlack makeupThe spell runningThru us 7 times uponThe moonlit night’sFrozen earth, throneOf graveyard dustThese are the remainsOf what we once called loveEaten by the cannibalsDown to it’s witheredBones.

    Source: The Poems of October by R.M. Engelhardt

  • Tonight!Jason Martin October 26th At The Troy Poetry Mission

    Jason Martin October 26th At The Troy Poetry Mission On Wednesday October 26th The Troy Poetry Mission Returns To O’Brien’s Public House In Troy, NY To Read & Perform Poetry At Our …

    Source: Jason Martin October 26th At The Troy Poetry Mission