This fantastic figuration of f-words features consonance oh such consonance in an experimental play of sound(ing) mean(ing).
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.
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.
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.
Winter window Outside the opportune window one pink head survives above geranium leaves blowing in the winter wind, covered with cold rain dropped from dimmed desire. The basil released its hope in the face of the war— forces of December and January— mere stalks rising above the window box, darkly silhouetted, […]
The Hero’s Journey—hybrid essay on an experimental poetics for epistemological and ontological change (perspective and reality).
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 […]
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 […]
Another Cup of Coffee Before I Shower It’s nine in the morning and I’ve been going for hours. The ground shook in Nepal, the riots in Baltimore— the preachers praise the winners then they blame the sinners, but all I think about is another cup of coffee before […]