Short poem and art—a cold and wet egret. I could say I have no egrets, but it wouldn’t be true.
“Her (dis)like of poetry showed through
her pure contempt while reading it.…” —poem on Marianne Moore’s “Poetry.”
Storm-driven sea and terror-driven police—combine images for our time. | Poem by Michael Dickel
The poem has four stanzas of 9 lines each, for 36 lines (double 18), not counting the epigrams from Genet. Each line has 9 syllables. The total number of syllables is 324, plus the 36 lines, equals 360—the number of degrees in a circle. Chai, Hebrew for life, equals 18 according to gematria. So, 36 lines, double 18, is double life.
The MLK weekend, a rainy day near Jerusalem, contemplating the U.S. inauguration coming up Friday, 20 Jan, 2017. A prose poem by Michael Dickel.
Three poems | memory | gary lundy
These three poems play on memory, nostalgia, loss, and longing.
Three Fog Poems by Michael Dickel, David H. Rathbun, & Mike Stone. Enjoy the different views.
Three poems set on a farm about faith in the seen and unseen and what may be coming from acts of love. Appears also in The BeZine.
This poem struggles in the middle of the night, wrestling with my 61st birthday and sense of failure. The poem begins:
“You want to sleep—but across the tundra,
or perhaps desert hard scrabble. The time
change lags behind and no one wants to
fund you, not even you.”
Michael Dickel launches his Patreon Page, May 8, 2016! Come join the excitement, support the arts, and see what rewards await you!
Circumstances My eyes shutter closed. Sirens scream because what else could they say? A bomb went off in a bus just up the street from here, down from the ice cream shop, “Whipped Cream.” The kids and I walked out of it about an hour before. No one […]
A tidal wave of poetry, perhaps. Michael Dickel, Contributing Editor to The BeZine While Eliot declares the cruelty of April, April also happens to be National Poetry Month in the United States and Canada. In our online, social media world, it has become an international celebration of poetry […]
Poetry Month 2016 | Fragments of Michael Dickel Water Poems (a poem) Flowstone Time (a poem) SNR—Hybrid Word Dance Veiled Lady (a poem) My Brand Here (Hybrid Flash) Rosy Morn | Poem | Essay | Photographs Blue Notes (collage | poem) The BeZine April 2016 — Celebrating Poetry […]
Rosy photographs, rosy poems, and a discussion of poetry—hybrid writing: poem-essay-digital photography.
I stood. I stared. The guard harumphed. But I wanted to touch the light of mystery.
What secret stories do stalactites tell? How does history hear geologic memory?
Three One lies restless in the small hours, the dead of night— three in the morning and worried about medical motorcycles whizzing past a wife on her way home from work this evening— distressed about tear gas and bullets fired into Gazans at the border fence West Bank rioters— hounded […]
I wrote the first draft of this poem twenty years ago, give or take a few months. Although I have sent it out many times, it never seems to have caught an editor’s attention. So, time to let it fly on its own here. Perhaps you will see […]