A new poem, Kiddush on the Solstice, and new digital landscapes, HaEtz HaChaim 1–7, from Michael Dickel on Meta/ Phor(e) /Play.
Six haiku ranging from current events to nature to mystery, from Brazilian poet and translator Thaís Fernandes.
A HamiltonSeen film by Cody Lanktree of Michael Dickel reading his poem, “But Hear the Dissonance, 1948-2012.”
Three poems from Karen Alkalay-Gut: What I need, I am a connoisseur of insomnia, and Avishag Speaks.
Michael Dickel’s poem, ”epistemological metaphysics of rhetorical hallucinations,” explores a mind.
A flight of fancy—escape through language, desire, politics—an end game—a poem by Michael Dickel.
These 3 poems by gary lundy dance to music & drink coffee—reading your meaning, meaning your reading.
A hybrid essay-fiction flash set in a mystical garden that doesn’t exist in Jerusalem Recalled but possibly in Jerusalem Imagined.
This hybrid between non-fiction, found poetry, & experimental-performance poetry connects hunger-stress-climate change and war. It hints at a desire for peace, & harmony.
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.
A short imagistic poem about respite from death’s pursuit through briefly glimpsed revelation.
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 […]
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.
What secret stories do stalactites tell? How does history hear geologic memory?
Broken cliffs, crashing water, quiet spirit. Three short poems related to water.
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 […]
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 […]
Summer Summer prattles on like a chorus of croaking frogs about all of its deep pleasures with open desire, while winter indulgently listens, knowing the strength of her own secrets. Parties all unfold this way. Spring tries to enchant, while fall quietly stands by, his eyes glinting with […]