Afraid & weak, NAZI werewolves bark, bite, howl, yip. If they didn’t run in packs, they’d be nothing, pornography.
My latest piece in The BeZine— After the election I find it difficult to write (just, justly) about (love, loving kindness, grace). Followed, as the election was, by the death of Leonard Cohen… Source: Hate is not the opposite of Love
This fantastic figuration of f-words features consonance oh such consonance in an experimental play of sound(ing) mean(ing).
This originally appeared in Fragments of Michael Dickel Sept. 2014. Thank you to G. Jamie Dedes and The BeZine for giving it a new, broader audience almost two years later! Author’s note: Sometimes, our children tell us things that they see or know, and we don’t have faith in […]
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!
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.
This hybrid (poem-marketing-non-fiction) flash experimental writing by Michael Dickel explores our commodified society, where commerce rules via the high priests of MBA-think. Go ahead. Buy into it. “Brand” yourself. And remember, slaves and cattle are also branded. Brand-name recognition recklessly pursued in the name of prophets of the profit margin.
I stood. I stared. The guard harumphed. But I wanted to touch the light of mystery.
McLuhan was right. My (re)formulation: Noise = Medium = Signal = Message | Signal to Noise Ration(al)(ity) embodies our overloaded information technology society and its marketeering bandits.
Any passage (metaphorically or literally) contains within it its messengers, its struggles, its need for wrestling.
. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock sounds. But time has stopped here. It ended when night fell over us all. We thought that time had pressed on, but this was an illusion. The spreading of blood across a full moon and darkening of a sun had fooled […]
She’s slept for a couple of years, nearly, but the woman with a beard has asked to return, and I have obliged her and the toad whose garden she sometimes tends. They can be most insistent. If you have not read some of her history, you can search […]
Programming cultural DNA The troglodyte tree emerged from its cave exactly when three lights lit the evening sky on the New Moon that fell before the birth-month of mother owl. Just a hatchling of course, in her first month, and a growth to maturity away from motherhood—but she […]
Why she was late for dinner… A bag falls to the sidewalk, glass shatters, wine spills—a ghost woke and walked by her, a forgotten moment now scented by shiraz evaporating on hot cement. These days she simply shrugs off such occurrences—hidden minutes pour out along her path wherever […]
The following flash fiction responds to a prompt (the photo above) from the Short Story and Flash Fiction Society, for their second flash fiction contest; the story is 392 words, not counting the title (or this blog-post introduction). Moshe is our son’s name, he is three (almost four), and […]
UPDATE 6 January 2017: The book is out! Published December 30, 2016. Read more here. Current working title: Riding the Chariot The Toad’s Garden This post invites you to preview my next book by following the tentative table of contents links (below). I’ve been working on a book […]