Poet Writer Albany NY
“…The Outsider is doubly a rebel: a rebel against the Established Church, a rebel against the unestablished church of materialism. Yet for all this, he is the real spiritual heir of the prophets…The purest religion of any age lies in the hands of its spiritual rebels.
The twentieth century is no exception.”
~ Colin Wilson
I SING OF THE BODY DISSECTED
So let us now all
Sing or if you believe
Pray
Not of these golden days
But in this dead choir of reprieve
Of anguish of suffering of days
Let us all sing of the 21st century
Of all our failures & the false
Triumphs & of the true progress
Of men
Unmade
Undone
Unseen
Watch &
See how we
So easily destroy
Ignore
Incite
Our own defeat
And on repeat
Like a bad news story
Like history
Still worship greed
And money
The holy dollar
And all the fat politicians
On all sides taking
Away what we once
Called ” Freedom”
As a quaint, dismembered idea
As wars are still waged
Poverty still a slave
We post all our success
Stories
But never our shame
As a dead earth
No longer of beauty
But of a violence unimagined
And obscene
Disgusting.
Weapons
Unimagined & unseen
The end of everything
The end
And the tragedy
The murder of all days
Like all the animals dying &
Loosing space
Oh how inconvenient
How 1980s
And Green
Our voices & our
Votes now all dead and
Useless worthless things
Without any real power for
Truth or change
Countries & governments
In decline still crumbling
And arguing, fighting
Killing over race
And over oil
A disgrace
A disfigurement a
World burning
Forests dying
No gods answering
No gods listening
No god here
Because
No god cares
Or listens
Anymore
This planet
This rock
Used up &
Separated
Dysfunctional
Diseased
Destroyed
With hate
With rage
Peace
Now just
Another trendy word
Forgotten
So for thee I Sing
Of this body
Dissected
Damaged by
Monsters & corrupt men
Fake patriots & grifters
Looking for trophies
And hiding behind a flag
And blaming
All other living beings
For everything
They’ve done
More convenience
More sorrow
More lies
The scapegoat
Followed by the
Image of the Tower card
Falling
As the seasons change
The leaves remain
But we never change
And never will
So for thee I Sing – Scream
For the impoverished
Families and their children starving
I Sing for the ignored
And uneducated the unemployed
And for all those
Guilty of being
Human beings
With hope
With dreams
With love
With faith
I sing for humanity
I sing for change
For Black lives
For all lives
For Suicides
And for all those buried
Beneath us in unmarked graves of
Unrest & genocide
And for all those who
Believe in a Jesus Christ
( Or not )
I Sing for
The Great Spirit
That once roamed
This land now a mere
Figment of imagination
Lost in the blood of
My ancestors
The flags all at half mast
Concealing the sadness
The truth
Of a nation
Once called America
Ashamed
I Sing of the body
The whole of the soul
Dissected
Diseased
Where Walt Whitman
Would now if alive
Weep over it’s reality
And in it’s sorrow
Walk away
Where Lincoln would
Crawl up into a ball
And simply
Choose to die
I Sing of A Nation of the
Body dissected
By cannibals
Who’ve erased all of
It’s glory
And where there
Is no honor, spark of
Democracy, decency
Or even electricity
Left
~ R.M. Engelhardt
©2022
INVOCATION OF THE MUSE:
The Open Mic For Poets, Poetry & The
Spoken Word sponsored by Dead Man’s Press Ink is moving to Albany NY’s amazing venue Lark Hall located at 351 Hudson Avenue on Monday, April 4th 2022 kicking off National Poetry Month.
DeadMansPressInk & myself are excited to announce the return of The Poetry Open Mic which will as always be an all inclusive poetry mic for all where poets are welcome to share their work with others. Formerly held at the Fuzebox we are currently creating new events for them and will now continue to run our monthly First Friday One Performance Poet evening The Dead Man’s Press Spoken Word Showcase along with Albany’s Legendary Goth Darkwave Night HEX to follow as well as beforehand local bands & mixed media events supporting the Albany Music & Art scenes.
*So please join Us For Our First Open Mic at Lark Hall On MONDAY April 4th
*7:30pm SignUp*8PM Start Time
POETRY LIVES IN ALBANY NY !
Hosted By R.M. Engelhardt
See You There!
SOMETHING NEW IS COMING TO ALBANY NY.
INVOCATION OF THE MUSE:
An Open Mic For Poets, Poetry & The
Spoken Word.
DeadMansPressInk & myself are excited to announce the return of The Poetry Open Mic at the newly reopened FUZEBOX 12 Central Avenue, Albany NY.
*Join Us For Our First Open Mic On MONDAY November 1st 2021 At The FUZEBOX.
7:30pm SignUp*8PM Start $5.00 Donation Requested.
POETRY LIVES IN ALBANY NY !
Note:
Please bring a valid ID, a proof of vaccination, or a negative Covid-19 test from at least 72 hours. And whenever possible please wear a mask.
https://www.facebook.com/events/967632553787817/permalink/967632563787816/?sfnsn=mo
To many of those of you who follow or read my work there are only a few that are aware that I run, along with my friend and coeditor Hex M’ Jai a small independent poetry press known as DeadMansPressInk as well as a page called The School of Night Newsletter which promotes the teachings & mysteries, articles and rituals of magic. DeadMansPressInk has a very fun & all inclusive popular group for poets called POETS WHO HATE POETS ON FACEBOOK which has been growing day by day and allows writers & poets to share their work in a safe, secure atmosphere of respect and humor with an eternal ” no trolls allowed” policy.
I hope that if you are a writer who would like to publish your book of pagan based poems ( we also are interested in noir, the occult & the macabre) that you will send us your manuscript or join our group to just enjoy people’s work and share your own. Find us on Facebook as well as Instagram.
Many Thanks. Join Us.
~ R.M. Engelhardt Editor DeadMansPressInk
New Poem From We Rise Like Smoke Poems Psalms Incantations Published by DeadMansPressInk Now Available on Amazon
THE STARS IN NIGHT IN FLIGHT
The stars in night in flight
The migration of the birds in
Flight revolutions of chaos around the
Circumference of the sun
(Like shadows)
But the gods haven’t noticed
As the starless night remains
Our dark evolution vast & sad
Beautiful & tragic
But Jesus doesn’t want to be found
& Buddha just doesn’t care
And Gaia just watches
Helpless
The Stars In Flight At Night
The migration of the birds in
Flight revolutions of chaos around the
Circumference of the sun
Humanity has risen
Not risen
Doesn’t notice
Doesn’t realize
Doesn’t care
Denies the stars
Denies itself
The stars migration
Love’s failure to love
One another
Each other
(Ourselves)
Death &
Beauty
Always the
Story of
Ourselves
Never
Ending
~ R.M. Engelhardt
THIS NIGHT, INVISIBLE
an
invocation
a
trance
at dusk
the souls
wander in
1 by 1
in a procession
of
tragedy
faith
&
loss
where the clocks
all time
has stopped
and
the dance
begins which
never ends
moves beyond
the flesh
your gods
as
sound –
words –
voices-
writhe-
wound –
annihilate
worship
a once empty
space
a void
S
C
R
E
A
M
M
M
M
M
M
M
I
N
G
maniacally
through the
vast & vaulted
air
as the
music endures
plays
on
where
there is
no kingdom
no glory
no power
false angels
or starflecked demons
the life after
ever after
where
there is only
you & I
in this night
invisible
this night
unseen
and so
in my grief
my sorrow
& as a friend
I invite you
with all love
and all respect
imperfect
and un-true
as always
in whatever mirror
conjured
this night
all beautiful
all living
or dead
you are
desired
you are
loved
without
end
~ R.M. Engelhardt
It’s Arrived.
Now Available on Amazon
2nd Paperback Edition
R.M. ENGELHARDT 