Congratulations, North Country Writers’ Night Out, which is releasing their latest anthology of short stories and poetry entitled SPRING AWAKENINGS, the group’s fourth book! Yes, I was a contributor…


An icy chill returned this day
To bear my April fast away
In craze of white, with full intent
To see which way the spirit’s bent,

T’ward freeze of frost or warmth of friend;
Is this the way our seasons end?
I love the way your whiteness stills
The burn beneath that tests our wills.

Yet it seems time to part our ways,
For with return of longer days
One must forget that bitter cost
Of holding fast to lives we’ve lost.

Eric M. Vogt
Copyright 2014

Mist of Mountains



The mist of mountains calls me, kin
To ev’rything held deep within.
I barely see its shining slope,
Yet it gives hand to help me cope
With silent cisterns, sad below.

The vision vies for visceral heart
That beats at chest as if to part
The man I am from all that’s lost,
And all those hidden things loved most
Still covered by the ache of snow.

Eric M. Vogt
Copyright 2014




I am very happy to announce that my latest collection of poetry entitled MOUNTAIN’S MORNING SONG is available in paperback at:



Fondled Fires Fade

Heat from fire warms my skin
Full of passion’s plaintive sin;
In the end, love always wins
With comfort over chill.

Shaking cobwebs free at dawn,
Pondering what’s cherished, longed,
Steady pace of pleasant song
Heard deep within the still.

Fondled fires fade away
As they pant in frantic play,
Whispering their final day
Lays just beyond last hill.

Eric M. Vogt
Copyright 2014




Congratulations to TK of Chapter TK, recipient of The First Cup Award in March 2014 for her poem Torture:





For more information about The First Cup Award, go to:


I Met Her On The Thames


I met her on the Thames. A cafe by the water. It was quite dirty back then, back in Thatcher’s time.

Reagan was in office. I was a soldier. The RAF base we were stationed on with the Special Forces had nuclear silos. They were painted white but they turned an ominous gray in the rain. It always rained.

She was there as a tourist. She was French and nine years my junior. Almost jail bait. But not quite. She had a baby, I learned. She had left her husband. He hit her. A lot. And he ignored the child, a boy. As I looked at her more, she became more beautiful. She was skinny. Even boney. But she was strength and she was poise and she was beauty. We had two strong ales before they closed the pub after lunch.

I took her by the hand when they kicked us out with the crowd. It pressed us in from all sides. She flinched a bit when I curled my fingers in hers. Her pale face grew whiter. But then suddenly, violently, she grasped mine to the point of pain. It was then I knew she was drowning.

We made love in a London hotel room. It was the type of love two make when they love each other fully and soon must part forever. She gave all of herself to me and I to her. God, I loved that girl.

She wore a thick, ornate cross around her neck. It was silver. It was heavy. Its chain bit into her as if it would make her bleed. But she endured it and in the end drew more pleasure from the pain.

When we parted I went to say how I felt, but she placed her fingertips on my lips. The harder I tried to say it the more pressure pursed my lips. They were flushed, as flushed as she.

“I am Catholic,” she said simply with her French accent, as if I could understand. But I was an American and I was not a Catholic, so I would never understand. To this day I do not understand.

She forced herself apart near the Thames, entered the crowd, and I never saw her again. I looked down at the trash-filled waters and I wondered how I would ever learn how to swim such a river without drowning.

It always rained in England. Always. And Thatcher’s silos were always gray.

Eric M. Vogt
Copyright 2014




Congratulations to Melody Lowes of Meanwhile, Melody Muses…, recipient of The First Cup Award in January 2014 for her beautiful poem FOR HYMN THE BELL TOLLS:



For more information about The First Cup Award, go to:




A wonderful group of young men and women who performed very well under pressure. Our next generation of poets…

Originally posted on North Country Writers' Night Out:

Jacob is congratulated by local poet Eric M. Vogt

Jacob is congratulated by local poet Eric M. Vogt

Congratulations to our own North Country Writers’ Night Out member, Jacob Colebank, recipient of First Place in the Poetry Out Loud competition held on February 22, 2014 at Groveton High School Library. Poetry Out Loud is a student recitation contest sponsored by the New Hampshire State Council on the Arts, the National Endowment of the Arts and the New Hampshire Writers’ Project. Jacob was awarded a $20,000 collegiate scholarship and will now compete regionally for more prizes.

Jacob recited THE CITIES INSIDE US and INVICTUS. It was a very close competition, but Jacob’s secret of success can be summed up in one word: Heart. Good luck to Jacob in all of his future writing and collegiate endeavors!

Jacob Colebank and runner-up Victoria Pelletier receive their winners' scholarships.

Jacob Colebank and runner-up Victoria Pelletier receive their winners’ scholarships.

View original