SAINT POEM BY R.M. ENGELHARDT

SAINTPOEM BY R.M. ENGELHARDT

 

In the time of the world’s night, the poet utters the holy

~ Heidegger

Broken.

Like the words or like the song

Or like the man or like the poem

His muse, his wife, his dog

And if it ain’t gonna walk

It begs

It crawls

And will eventually die

Alone.

Solitary-slow, old & torn up,

Soul screaming like some bloody

Blood drenched pathetic heart or like

The sonnet that once ached now lost

That once breathed new life into the void

This universe

Still spinning

But dead

Like Gods.

The history of the poem now only

The mere echo and the ghost fuck of

The shell-shocked & the literary damned

All of them

Silent, still secretly whispering

To themselves

In libraries

Over books

Around the world

All of them,

Still wanting the words

All reaching with their new formalist minds

And still secretly dreaming

And waiting for the return of

Sirens to come and save them

A messiah, or

A muse.

And lo, as I walk thru this valley of despair

I still hope that there be some cigarettes

There, or perhaps some literary corpses with

Anything interesting left to say

In all of these

Silent & dead verse days

Repeating and repeating

Again.

For it is not enough

To write or to see, or to believe –

To become this disease or feel it

To become a now love,

A now hope which

No longer breathes with

Too many stars forgotten

Still clinging to it’s lost beauty

And truth.

So Dear Poem

Saint Poem,

I ask you

To please see us through yet another day

And may to thee I pray with the words that

Doth flow like a river, a dream like inspiration

With this lost voice, a generation

Forgotten and left behind

Or like a prophet

Who has lost what

Remains of his soul

And his mind

For in the beginning?

We only know that there was no heaven

Or earth but only the words, the hipsters,

And the rebellion, the beginning of the cool

As the nocturnal music past midnight blared

Of jazz & revolutions that guided its

Disciples in leather jackets

Who only lived & wrote

For you.

As you,

Saint Poem

Saint Muse

Sung the blues alone

In the starry night

Like a transmission

To the damned

And the unaccepted

Lost

But where are you now

Saint Poem, Saint Muse?

Where are you now?

To see, to sing of this humanity

Living in the streets

Living un-alive un-dead,

Scattered & trapped here

In a new century

Without light

Where are you now

Saint Poem?

To tell us that

The human heart

Isn’t dead that the myth

Isn’t dead just yet?

As we

The poets

The prophets

And the every

Day dreamers

Of ordinary

Wait

As we

The workers

The lovers

And all the

False salesmen

Of shit

No one wants

Are still waiting

For the next

Awakened

Breathing time

Of creation

Among all these

Forgotten stars

Lost, in their

Forgotten realms

Still, always returning

Back home again with

The same damn

Fucking song

Drunk & alone

And singing The

Resurrection Waltz

Once more

And again

To themselves.

______________

R.M.  ENGELHARDT 

FROM THE RESURRECTION WALTZ, 2012

THE MOON

The Moon

By Jack Kerouac

The moon her magic be, big sad face
Of infinity An illuminated clay ball
Manifesting many gentlemanly remarks

She kicks a star, clouds foregather
In Scimitar shape, to round her
Cradle out, upsidedown any old time

You can also let the moon fool you
With imaginary orange-balls
Of blazing imaginary light in fright

As eyeballs, hurt & foregathered,
Wink to the wince of the seeing
Of a little sprightly otay

Which projects spikes of light
Out the round smooth blue balloon
Ball full of mountains and moons

Deep as the ocean, high as the moon,
Low as the lowliest river lagoon
Fish in the Tar and pull in the Spar

Billy de Bud and Hanshan Emperor
And all wall moongazers since
Daniel Machree, Yeats see

Gaze at the moon ocean marking
the face –

In some cases
The moon is you

In any case
The moon

* Photo By Photographer Lona Cygnus

Celebrate National Poetry Month : The 2013 Albany WordFest!

 

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In celebration of National Poetry Month, Albany Poets is proud to present the 2013 Albany Word Fest featuring the poetry and spoken word of upstate New York.  This year’s event will take place on Sunday, April 14 – Saturday, April 20, 2013.

 

“What a great way to celebrate National Poetry Month right here in Albany. With a full week of poetry and spoken word, there is something for everyone.” Thom Francis, Albany Poets President, said, “Whether you would like to take in a featured performance, celebrate the launch of a new, local literary journal, attend a regional poetry slam, or be part of one of the largest annual open mics in the area, the Albany Word Fest is the place for you.”

 

Avery Stempel, Albany Poets board member, adds, “Word Fest is a celebration of spoken word spanning a full week of events that incorporate the diverse forms of expression ranging from impromptu skits to rehearsed and choreographed slams.  Poets, philosophers, performers: all are welcome in this growing community of Albany writers.  I am excited to be a part of the team coordinating the festivities this year!”

The week will kick-off with the launch of Albany Poets’ brand new literary journal, Up The River. Editors Jill Crammond and Keith Spencer have been culling through hundreds of submissions and will debut their selections for the first issue on Sunday, April 14 at McGeary’s. The evening will also feature performances by some of the poets published.

On Monday, April 15 we head to the UAG Gallery on Lark Street for a night of poetry and spoken word from Poets Against Fracking featuring Band of Bards, a community of Binghamton area writers, artists, and activists who have turned their talents toward helping to preserve their community against the threat of hydraulic fracture gas drilling in New York State and beyond.

Also on Monday night, Jill Crammond will be hosting an open mic for students in grades 5 – 12 at the Bethlehem Children’s School in Slingerlands. This will be a great opportunity for young poets and writers to share their work with others.

On Tuesday, April 16 the festival continues with the Nitty Gritty Slam at Valentines. For the Word Fest edition of NGS, Mojavi and Thom Francis will present the first ever Haiku Battle. This long awaited event will finally make its Albany debut on the Nitty Gritty stage.

For Wednesday night, April 17, the Word Fest heads over to The Linda – WAMC’s Performing Arts Studio on Central Ave for a screening of the film Louder Than A Bomb, “a film about passion, competition, teamwork, and trust. It’s about the joy of being young, and the pain of growing up. It’s about speaking out, making noise, and finding your voice. It also just happens to be about poetry.”

Thursday, the poetry comes back to the Social Justice Center with the Third Thursday Poetry Night hosted by Dan Wilcox. This monthly poetry series welcomes poets to step up to the mic and share their work along with featured performers from the College of Saint Rose.

Friday night features two poetry events with the annual Word Fest Open Mic taking place at the UAG Gallery on Lark Street while UGT will be happening at The Linda on Central Ave.

This year Albany Poets is going back to a familiar place for the Word Fest Open Mic. We are returning to the UAG Gallery on Lark Street for this annual Word Fest tradition. The UAG has hosted the Open Mic five times in the past (2006 – 2010) and it is great to be back home for the 2013 Word Fest.

Poets who wish to participate in the open mic can sign up online by going to the signup pageuntil Sunday, April 14.  Performers will also have a limited opportunity to sign up at the event itself.  Each poet will have 10 minutes to share their work. The open mic is open to all poets and spoken word artists with no style or content restrictions.

Meanwhile, right up Central Avenue, at The Linda, Urban Guerilla Theatre will be presenting the second Skit Happens show. UGT President Mojavi explains, “ ‘Skit Happens, Too’ is an eclectic blend of poetry, comedy and skits. UGT is dedicated to bringing you funny, incredible performances and even crazier skits. We continue to bring you the best in poetry, comedy and performance as part of the 2013 Albany Word Fest.”

Finally on Saturday, April 20, the Word Fest comes to an end with the first ever Word Fest Invitational Slam at Valentine’s starting at 6:00pm. Albany Poets, Frequency North, and Urban Guerilla Theatre are proud to welcome six teams from all over the Northeast to compete in this event. Admission for this event at Valentine’s is $10.00 in advance / $12.00 at the door. This event is 18+ (21+ to drink) with a picture ID required. Tickets will be available online beginning on March 14.

Additionally, all throughout the week, Albany Poets will be publishing local poetry on their website as part of the Word Fest Online Open Mic. Poets who wish to participate are encouraged to send their poems to albanypoets+submissions@gmail.com with “Online Open Mic” in the subject line, starting Sunday, April 7.

The 2013 Albany Word Fest is sponsored by Albany PoetsHudson Valley Writers GuildFrequency NorthUrban Guerrilla TheatreValentinesMcGeary’s,Upstate Artists Guild, and the very generous donations of supporters of the arts in upstate New York including Matt GallettaDan WilcoxHoward KoganKenneth Salzmann, and Bob Sharkey.

Latest Word Fest News

2013 Albany Word Fest – The Word Fest Kick Off Party and Launch of Up The River on Sunday, April 14
April 3, 2013 2:36:40 PM EDT

Getting Closer… Two Weeks Until the 2013 Albany Word Fest
April 2, 2013 10:44:56 AM EDT

2013 Albany Word Fest – Poets Against Fracking featuring Band of Bards on Monday, April 15
March 29, 2013 9:55:17 AM EDT

2013 Albany Word Fest News – New Events, New Features, and How You Can Help
March 14, 2013 10:26:52 AM EDT

More Word Fest News

The Albany Word Fest is © 2013 Albany Poets. All Rights Reserved.

 

THE NEW VERSE MOVEMENT HAS ARRIVED

THE NEW VERSE MOVEMENT HAS ARRIVED

 

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THE “NEW VERSE MOVEMENT” HAS ARRIVED.

THE SCHOOL OF NIGHT
OPEN MIC FOR POETS, POETRY
& WRITERS RETURNS TO DOWNTOWN
ALBANY, NY ON THURSDAY, APRIL 11TH

The Pearl Street Pub & Dirty Martini Lounge In Albany

NO RULES. NO SCORES. NO AGENDAS.

JUST YOUR WORDS ARE REQUIRED.

7:30pm Sign Up * 8pm Start

 www.newversemovement.com

 

THE ZERO YEAR …

The Zero Year 2045

THE ZERO YEAR

Trans-ferance.

Voice Of Angels
Voice Of Nothing
Voice Of Prophets

Voice

Of God

The Voice Of Self
The Waiting, (The Dead)

Receptacles…Shells

Of No Certainty. Never`Land.

Stuck in denial,
Traffic, Chaos

To tell the tale,
Trans-MIT dim echoes
Of ancient lies, eternal
Of night-sleep
Obscuring~Blinding

Dark.

For Forever Is Never A Forever
No Absolutes
No Signs
No Mistake

That upon this precipice
You dwell like the haunted man,
Year Zero Once Again
Handed down by the
Great King
Of Kings, rising falling
Forgetting

That upon this earth
Somewhere a child awakens,
Joyful & naive

Without fear.

_______________

World On Fire

WORLD ON FIRE
(From “The Resurrection Waltz, 2013)

Saxophone screaming.

Like jazz… morphine.
salvation…
running, thru the streets

To:

Refrain Refrain Refrain

To Begin ~ To End,

Proceed.

To, Some Where Some Way

Silence.

In Dead Lights And In Hyper-Space
And Unto The Holy Light of the
Last Cash Machine
As the Utopian Prophecy bleeds
Magnificent, Malevolent
In-To Thine Youthful Eyes Which Hears- Seas
Of Majestic rhymes & urban schemes,

A Salvation… Of Gun Shot Megaphone Deliverance

And Oh Unto Thee, We Deliver Great Hopes Of Miracles… Mercy.

Illuminations As Thy Cradles Rock Falsely
With The sad Arrogance Of Label Made Kings,
Offering Up All Your Dead sons,
father, mother, sisters, brothers
used up,
Mother-Fuckers
Who have killed the word, & the sound & whole world of grace
Monotonous with

“Hype”

With the smiles of Money~Greed Messiahs
Sampling Out Salvation, A Promise, A Lie,
All Their Words Now,
Just An Epiphany,

In A “Box”

Moving on down towards
South Of Heaven
Non-Transcendence Dead Enlightenment &
The Dead Roar Of Time
That says

“Nothing”

Nothing.

Fore-wards
Back-wards stealing From All the Lost Poets & the dead souls
With a weak childish snarl that says, “ME’ “MINE”
A place where no philosophers need apply.
With No More Gods To Worship &
No more new myths to create

As The Vessel Sinks,
Stinks,
Reeks Of Slamming bores
Rhyming Whores for all the same crimes

Yo.

Pants Un-Fit With weak words that will not survive
The Tides Of Time
And that shall never ever make it
Unto The Shore.

As one-day they will all say:

Kill Roy was here
And he wrote a poem upon the WALL
Which said this

“NOTHING”

Except that he was here.

With his Bling Props No Props No Echo Your Masses Asses Making
Hip Gang Signs & Buying Up Your Video Product

YO.

No Rebels left But Cowards Who just Sing The Song Of Thy Puppet Selves
Little Boys Of Violence With Little Swords That Cannot & Will Never Plow The Field
Of Men.

Because, with weapon in pants, they are shit. Who do not mend.

Hip?
Gone.
Now amongst us silent

Hop?
Dead

The very thought
That once we shit thru our veins, living
Lost,
Intolerable,
And MIA

As non aware un-alive
Follows when time is measured
monosyllabic and in waning days
For death recurrence
And numbers on papers, not soldiers
Become A Waste Of All That Is-Was Life.

But Can such an Armageddon
Accidental circumstances exist?
Life? Made of location and color
When the door of words is finally broken
With All levels un-covered
And Boring sets made of dead set repetition?

No.

Because every man
therefore may whisper in the wind,
tend to the madness,
up to him-self,
Disappear
in thy-self.

No.

That these are all faults
because every man
therefore may whisper in the wind,
Unto the vast world
Which is Now Dead

To Others.

Saxophone,

screaming…

(Once like jazz… morphine.. salvation… running, thru the streets)

A World On Fire

Which said something

That Mattered

Now dead.

________________

~ R.M. Engelhardt

Poet R.M. Engelhardt finds hope in words ~ Times Union 3/14/13

R.M. ENGELHARDT
R.M. ENGELHARDT

Poet R.M. Engelhardt finds hope in words

Engelhardt expresses hope in power of language

By Amy Biancolli Published 2:11 pm, Wednesday, March 13, 2013

 

The poems of R.M. Engelhardt don’t assert faith in much. Not religion. Not a society that ignores the plight of the downtrodden while glorifying the rich.

As he writes in “Burn,” a reflection on a homeless man in winter that appears in his 13th book, “The Resurrection Waltz”: “…the george bailey in / this story has no clarence.” “It’s a Wonderful Life” this isn’t.

But the works of this longtime Albany poet holds some faith in a few things. Late-life love, for a start. (“…happiness/That came later/and not sooner“). Smoking, too; he did, after all, title his 2006 book of collected works “The Last Cigarette.” “This is actually part of who I am in general. I’m smoking now as we speak,” he said, chatting on the phone recently.

But he has faith in something else, too: poetry. In “Saint Poem,” he addresses the form itself as a carrier of grace or salvation. “Dear Poem/Saint Poem/I ask you/To please see us through yet another day,” he pleads, coming around to a state of exhausted resignation. Both the faith and the exhaustion pop up throughout “The Resurrection Waltz” (Infinity Publishing), an 82-page tract of succinctly expressed disgruntlement flecked with hope.

“Poetry is very much like a religion. I wouldn’t say my complete religion,” he said. Nevertheless, “It’s the poem that saves you. You write the poem, but it’s catharsis, and what’s what brings you into being — what makes you stable, balanced.”

Engelhardt will read and sign copies of “The Resurrection Waltz,” from 7 to 9 p.m. today at the Book House of Stuyvesant Plaza.

On April 11, he’ll kick off his School of Night open mic, to be held from 7 to 9 p.m. on the second Thursday of each month at the Pearl Street Pub/Dirty Martini Lounge. And then, on April 19, he plans to read at the open mic as part of 2013 Albany Word Fest, set to run from April 14 to 20.

He dates his interest in poetry to childhood, when he composed a myth about a forged Bronze Warrior that wowed his sixth-grade teacher. His appreciation for the power of words never waned. Now a deep-rooted fixture on the poetry landscape, Engelhardt runs open mics, edits a journal (“The Literary Rogue”) and, in 2000, founded the Albany Poets collective (http://www.albanypoets.com). A year later, he started the Word Fest.

“He’s been around for a long, long time, and he’s the one that took me under my wing when I was in high school almost 20 years ago. And he’s always trying to innovate and come up with ways to get new people involved,” said Thom Francis, current president of Albany Poets. As for Engelhardt’s writing, “It’s very personal, and yet sometimes spiritual. And you know, it runs the gamut.”

Engelhardt is not a fan of slams — open mics with a competitive format. “You have people judging the work of new poets, people who have never read before. So the problem is people are just getting out — they’re discovering their authentic voices, and they’re being judged by people. I don’t believe that poetry should be judged.”

He draws his inspiration from a variety of sources. One is the woman in his life, Kali De La Cruz, the photographer (credited as Lona Cygnus), who designed the cover for “The Resurrection Waltz.”

Another is the city of Albany, where his family goes back six generations. After a stint in the Florida Keys some years back, he returned with a newfound appreciation for Albany’s creative vibe.

“It’s the place itself,” he said. “It has a great poetry and literary scene — a great writing scene — it has a great music scene, a great arts scene. And if you can’t find inspiration in that, well, you’re in the wrong place.”

What about those cigarettes? Can someone be a poet without smoking? “If it’s for them, sure,” he said. Then he clarified: “If they’re a nonsmoking poet.”

abiancolli@timesunion.com • 518-454-5439

At a glance R.M. Engelhardt

 

http://www.timesunion.com/entertainment/article/Poet-R-M-Engelhardt-finds-hope-in-words-4351753.php

What: Reading and signing of “Resurrection Waltz,” new book by Albany poet When: 7-9 p.m. today, March 14

Where: The Book House of Stuyvesant Plaza, 1475 Western Ave. Info: 489-4761;

 

http://rmengelhardt.com

 

http://www.bookhouse.indiebound.com

Warren Ellis, author of "Gun Machine"

Once in a very blue moon, John Tallow imagined his younger self standing down the timeline from his present life, bare toes curling in teenage beach sand, looking ahead to today and watching his future life collapse in on itself like a dying star. His future life becoming small and dark and dense, its gravity apparently grim and inescapable.

Once in a very blue moon, John Tallow spent some cash on a bottle of vodka and drank it at home within an hour.”

~ Warren Ellis, Gun Machine (2013)

 

http://articles.latimes.com/2013/jan/10/entertainment/la-ca-jc-warren-ellis-20130113