Michael Dickel's Blog

Picasso Bull and Matador

"…matador with bull a broken love affair in Picasso blue tone rings fire pan destined to cook shakshuka for breakfast so hungry the mouths unfed…"

Too Real to Think About

Alison Stone Too Real In myths, the would-be prey escapes by changing into tree or bird. The audience at the Israeli music festival was trapped in their human skin. A pair of lovers mutilated embracing, one teen stabbed with song still in her throat. The stars blink on […]

(Re)Member the Hostages

Stars and Petals

Michael E. Stone The little girl with a white wicker basket full of petals and sprinkles, that starry paints the heavens, her eyes sparkling jewels dewdrops at dawn unsullied still. She makes a milky way for the moon, the full, the royal moon, a queen. And you, to […]

‘Round Midnight

Poetry and Art after October 7, 2023 Devorah Roytenberg CharashCeramicist / Photographer Michael DickelPoet ‘Round Midnight I — No lullaby will do But it really gets bad 'Round midnight* I tell everyone we’re safe because we are in our home, we have food, water, each other, the rockets […]

weeks after the massacre

Karen Alkalay-Gut 1. No one tells it yet Not the whole story How long would it take you to speak of your child wounded in the chest but still breathing when her arm is sliced off? Ah, how could you tell since this was the last sight you […]

Days of the Dead

Al Qaeda 9/11 and Hamas 10/07

a perspective on the impact of 10/07/2023 I am against war although I concede that some wars, regrettably, may be necessary. I understand the history and context of what we call “The Middle East Conflict,” which is a global conflict of long standing and not a recent regional […]

Playground Heat | Paul Rabinowitz

"As the long, hot days of summer wore on, something new began to churn and build inside me. It had been there for a long time…", thus begins Paul Rabinowitz's flash fiction on Meta/ Phor(e) /Play.

The Colors of the World Will Be Bright

—Michael Dickel I look at the time on my phone. “Time to get the girl,” I think. So sit up in bed, swing my legs over the side, and put on my shoes. I see my wife working on her computer as I walk into the living room. […]