A good poem or poet is like a good cigar or a good whiskey. Everyone Has their own preferences. ~ R.M. Engelhardt
Poetry Lives In Albany NY
Photo By Leif Zurmuhlen
INVOCATION OF THE MUSE: A New Poetry Open Mic Hits Albany, NY
INVOCATION OF THE MUSE ALBANY NY SOMETHING NEW IS COMING TO ALBANY NY. INVOCATION OF THE MUSE:An Open Mic For Poets, Poetry & TheSpoken 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 … Continue reading INVOCATION OF THE MUSE: A New Poetry Open Mic Hits Albany, NY
Upon The Rise & Resurrection of Pagan Poetry
Upon The Rise & Resurrection Of Pagan Poetry https://albanypoets.com/2021/09/the-half-dead-poet-review-upon-the-new-rise-resurrection-of-pagan-poetry
Nick Cave~ Who Are Your Favorite Poets?
Nick Cave. Who Are Your Favorite Poets?
Let Poetry Be Poetry: R.M. Engelhardt On The Nation’s Recent Apology
The Half Dead Poet Review: The host of The Troy Poetry Mission R.M. Engelhardt let's his views & thoughts be known on the recent false accusations against the Nation magazine and a young but well meaning poet who simply wrote a poem in regards to the plight of homelessness in America. Writing and poetry is … Continue reading Let Poetry Be Poetry: R.M. Engelhardt On The Nation’s Recent Apology
Being A Poet
“Being a poet isn’t something you are or choose. It’s something that happens to you at irregular intervals and with no guarantee it will happen again. You can disregard it when it does happen but you can’t turn it on. All you can do is wait." ~ Margaret Atwood
New Poets. New Writers. Poetry. Fiction. Books. Step Up To The Mic In Troy, NY In 2018. See You Soon ~ The Troy Poetry Mission #stepuptothemic #troyny #troypoetrymission
What Are Words For?
Question: Without a photo these days what is a poem? Answer: What matters. The poem itself. #talon_poet #writing #poetry #rmengelhardt #whatmatters
The Jewel By James Wright
THE JEWEL There is this cave In the air behind my body That nobody is going to touch: A cloister, a silence Closing around a blossom of fire. When I stand upright in the wind, My bones turn to dark emeralds.