EXTREMUM VITAE SPIRITUM

AURAL SUPREMACISTS another worthless war, war of words, weapons substituting the mystique of false authority in secular motion. Do not attempt to decieve these shadows … Death is death. Pain is pain. Violence is violence. The waves of voices, strangers screaming from far off distant lands we cannot fathom or ignore. We stand in rebellion. We stand as one. We are the future as we watch your crumbling empires fight like ridiculous children over the remenents of land, control in desperation. Pathetic & immature. Ruthless & sick, twisted like the mindset of all primitive things unwanted and unloved. It’s always the same. Old men & cowards believing they are powerful. Sending the young off to die because they are too weak to fight themselves without courage, genitals. But your time, lives end here. We have outgrown you & your outdated ideas. “Control Control Control”. We do not fear you but laugh at you knowing you have something to hide. We stand in REBELLION. We stand as one. We are THE FUTURE. Your time is done. And we are ending it NOW. We are RESISTANCE. You are nothing and shall be forgotten like the dust. Beneath us, like the earth. Extremum Vitae Spiritum

Give Up The Ghost.

R.M. Engelhardt 2022

~ R.M. Engelhardt

*Coming Soon*

An Observation by George Carlin

carlin

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We’ve done larger things, but not better things.

We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent.

Remember, to say, ‘I love you’ to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.

George Carlin

CREATE THE BOOK : Support Poets & DIY Publishing.

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WHAT IS POETRY? POETRY IS YOU

RM Engelhardt

Poetry is much much more than all of the definitions, theories or explanations that you read or hear about everyday. Poetry is not just a form, a quote or one or two popular poets or pop stars  in the media. Poetry is not hip hop or gangsta rap, slam or new formalism, gay or straight, white or black, dead or alive. Poetry does not belong either to the streets or the academics.

Poetry is not always a love song. Poetry is not always about the rain or nature, mountains or castles. Poetry is neither happy nor depressed, a villain or a hero, a lover or a friend.

Poetry is merely poetry for poetry’s sake. But the words are sacred, something sacred which we share.

Poetry is a state of consciousness and the mind.

Poetry is all of history and is the history of being.

Poetry is all of us

Poetry is you.

 

~ R.M. ENGELHARDT, 2015

New Poems In The Fractured Nuance #1

Two More Of My New Poems ‘The Waiting’ and ‘Underground’ will be featured in issue #1 Of The Fractured Nuance Out Of The UK.

Check It Out:

The Fractured Nuance issue #1 (UK ORDERS ONLY) 

£2.50
Creative writing from:

Christopher Barnes
Krishan Coupland
R.M. Engelhardt
Christopher Evans
Megan MacAlpin
Matthew Walsh
Patricia Walsh

~ R.M.

The Fractured Nuance issue #1

The Open Library : R.M. Engelhardt

The Last Cigarette Poems R.M. Engelhardt

The Last Cigarette:

The Collected Poems

Of R.M. Engelhardt

 

These are the earlier collected works of Albany, NY based poet, writer & author R.M. Engelhardt who has published several books over the last two decades. Engelhardt through his ideas & visions has helped to create a large amount of the Upstate, Albany, NY spoken word~poetry scene and is the host of The Saint Poem Reading Series. Through his efforts he has created such groups the Albany Poetry Syndicate as well as Albany Poets (www.AlbanyPoets.com), which have left a lasting mark on the upstate NY literary scene. His work has also been published by many journals both in print & on the net including Retort, Verve, Fashion For Collapse, Sure! The Charles Bukowski Newsletter, Copious Amounts, Thunder Sandwich, The Angry Poet, 2nd Avenue Poetry, Full of Crow & in many others.

 
 

The Open Library

UNTITLED

field of night

 

 

I am the wandering poet,
I do not sleep
I am wasting these days in the dregs
Of the deep.

I live in the church of myself
Bizarre & unfulfilled,
The spirit of the waking man,
And the fool, the reckless fool.

For I am walking round the circle
From the outside looking in,
I am the shadow on the wall
And the wall is growing thin.

So can you see me?

Only Here

And There,

And Now?

 

_____________

 

~ R.M. Engelhardt

AND IN THIS CORNER

And In This Corner- R.M.

 

And in this corner;

 

It’s the hollow man &

The drunken muse

And that song

That goes like this’

 

As the rain came down

Upon the city streets & poets, sonnets

And upon all of the earth

As If Mozart had just

Written it all for you

On a Saturday night

Himself

 

 

 

[And In Parenthesis]

 

The next round begins,

And they ring the bell

 

It’s the ghost in the machine

And all the silences in-between

 

Lifetimes.

 

Lovers

And friends

And strangers

And there’s a savior on every block

Just waiting for you with

The answer in their hands

Saying;

 

I’m alone in the dark

Without the directions home

 

 

So there,

 

Do you see?

All the desolate and the

Lost, the poor, and the rich

Who still ignore them,

See the universe

In vibrant words

And they just ignore you

 

Still.

 

 

 

As you,

Wordsmith of

The angry masses

Can only scream

 

Fuck you!

 

To Thine

Own Self

 

Be True

 

Be True.

 

 

And in this corner

It’s the serpent’s coil

And the soul of the dragon,

This world a weeping failure

In thy form, and in thy sight

As they pour more champagne

Half full into the glass

 

 

 

 

And it’s still the same damn song that goes like this,

 

As they lit our cigarettes with dollar bills

As all the children starved to death

 

 

 

 

In Shitsville & Manhattan,

And in the U. S. of A. America

Where all the rains came down

A hard rain still

Falling In buckets, sonnets & poems

That changed nothing

And never will

 

 

Because no one even

Bothered to ever

Read the words or

The writing on the wall

 

To see.

___________

 

~ R.M. Engelhardt