Michael E. Waldecki
Michael E. Waldecki was born in Lorain, Ohio, and attended Lorain County Community College there. He served three years in the U.S.AIR FORCE, at Strategic Air Command Headquarters and two years in the Ohio Air National Guard, where he worked as a computer operator and Telecommunications specialist.
He founded the Black River Poetry Workshop and served as the poetry Editor of the Black River Review from 1986 until 1996. He is interested in theoretical physics, cosmology, photography, and poetry.
- The Book of Dreams : Poems. (1979)
- The Child of Woe : [poems] (1980)
- The Electric : [poems] (1983)
- In Godzilla Goes to Hollywood. (1985)
- Mike's Place : Every Monday. (1986)
- Song for Ground Zero. (1986)
- The Piano Sickness. (1988)
- Clams on the March / poetry. (1989)
- The Neon Cage. (1989)
- The Return of the Big Swifty. (1989)
- The Dog Bone Xylophone : For James Tate : Poetry. (1990)
- Montezuma's Revenge : a Play. (1990)
- Fragile Anvils : Poetry (1991)
- Have You Ever Danced in Oklahoma : Poetry (1991)
- Titanium Tim : Poetry. (1991)
- Abe Lincoln & the Stragetic Air Command : poetry. (1992)
- Poems from Minimal Space. (1993)
- The Wind Always Sings Soprano : for Kat Snider-Blackbird. (1993)
- Sidewinders and Accolades : Poems. (1994)
- Prior to the Technocrats. (1996)
- Properties of Water. (1998)
- Waldecki Recollected : Poems by an Iconoclastic Surrealist (1998)
- Tales from the Blind Mule : Selected Poems. (1999)
- The Silence Is Broken. (2000)
- In the Village of the Knife Sharpeners. (2001)
Michael E. Waldecki
Poems by Michael Waldecki:
THE SEEKER & The Devil's Moon
Whorls of white, consuming
brilliance smote the night—
I walk the road
in unencumbered steps
to some Destiny, unseen…
A grain of Truth,
my sustenance to sustain
me from abject fear,
A mountain hurled into a bloody sea—
dead waters, yet I ride
Before me, the flotsam
of the fallen harbingers of war,
they kill for money’s sake
to drink the draughts of power.
O fools, you die in a twinkling,
besmirched by all who know
gather fabulous wealth & folly,
your graves as shallow as your words.
Yet, when I spoke,
no one heard,
but the red rain…
All were watching
the Signs in the Sky…
Gog & Magog
The frozen, rusted wheels of Justice
have ground to a halt.
The Propaganda Minister preaches Hate
and the monuments rise
from the garbage Empowered
to Rule by deceit & slight-of-hand.
The disarming Leaders;
the People are under the gun:
empty words & weapons.
I grit my teeth as I watch
the parrots on television
reveal the Facts…
I hold a brick in my right hand
and consider my Values
as a face contorts,
a Fairy Tale to believe upon,
it is Given: the Opiate,
as all life goes up in smoke.
His eyes reveal a vacuum
that Truth, alone can fill.
We’re getting sucked-in
to a Nightmare!
I can’t find the knob
to turn him off!
is a form of commentary
that has found its place…