I’m Just A Writer

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I’M JUST A WRITER

One-day.

When all this horror ends. Death ends from this virus. When we have thrown all the walking talking garbage, excrement out of our Whitehouse, the lunatic sociopath and all his corporate friends and buddies. When we as the people who have the true power learn that we cannot trust let alone ever again follow both monied Republicans nor Democrats because of their complete incompetency during this time of mass desolation and we have finally renewed our freedom, re-established our Constitution and our liberty and have put in change/elected intelligent, experienced & actually educated and smart people whose job it will be to repair and heal all of the monsterous actions that Trump and his cabinet have done to our country, world and environment … our people and our nation then maybe one-day when I am very old I will start writing poems about beauty, love, nature and maybe even flowers. But until that day comes I will with all my heart and all my soul write poems that are true and I will fight the powers that be until this vision this hope finally comes true and becomes a reality. So until that day I will not change nor accept the condition of this country or world and neither should you.

Because America my friends is in ruins due to the fault of one single insane individual and we know what must be done whether your conscience chooses to accept it or not. For we have been used, lied to and betrayed. Thousands are now either unemployed or dead. And this is unforgivable.

So will you just watch all this happening from the comfort of your living room? Or are you a real human being who believes that this world should be safe and free for your children and many generations to come?

Me?

I’m just a writer.

But what are you?

~ R.M. Engelhardt

THE SOUL PARADE

 

THE SOUL PARADE

Y’know.

This poem, ain’t about you.

And this poem ain’t about a raging heart
Or a saving grace.

This poem has nothing to do with the blues,
Robert Johnson, the devil or even
All the saints.

And this poem has nothing to do with the paranormal,
Demons or the neon electric lights of
Near death, deadly dead cosmic experiences,
Jesus Christ or his brother
Fred, candy, the shadow government,
The FBI, CIA

Or “You”

No.

This poem is a song
This poem is not a song

This poem
Is a riddle
This Poem is a revelation
For the false.

That has nothing to do with you,
Or your limited level of reality, non reality,
War, baseball or boxing, peace summits
Criticism Or the never ending war of

Good … Versus Evil.

That you are truly, afraid to fight.

No. Nope.

This poem ain’t about you,
not about you at all.

Because this here poem
Is all about “Soul”

An extinct & isolated species that’s
Connected, Interconnected & Intertwined
And Living Complete & Inside and Amongst the Cosmology
Of a Hundred Thousand Billion Stars.

And something that “You” Will Never Get,
Or ever understand.

Because this poem
Is not all about “You”

This poem
Is about “Soul”

That thing that you can never have
Or get which just like imagination
Escapes you just like honesty
Fame or the verses

That fall onto the page, like love.

Because you see it’s
That song inside your deepest depths
The heart that keeps you going, fighting

And truly “Alive”

Each & everyday

And that something
Which you must earn.

So this poem
Sure as hell
Ain’t about “You”

This poem
Is all about the parade of souls

That just keeps on passing you by
Without notice.

All the souls

Smart enough,

Not to follow

“You”

____________________


R.M. Engelhardt