Zen and the Art of Being Dick Hercules

I’d been so looking forward to Sunday. I had just sat down, my bottom on my cushion, my cushion on the floor, floor atop the mountain, mountain near Kyoto, Japan, and I was preparing for my first bout of zazen — the seated meditation — here at the monastery atop Mount Hiei. I scrunched into…

Hercules Gets a Job

I was sitting at a table under a tent, on a street called Piotrkowska, in a city called Łódź, in a place called Poland, drinking a beer called Żywiec. It was spring. There was still a bit of a nip in the air, but the ladies couldn’t wait any longer to remove their fur coats…

In Which Death Visits Me Whilst I Breakfast

I was sitting in my usual booth at the GHOP (Gentleman’s House of Pancakes). On the table before me was a plate full of untouched ones (pancakes). I was pushing them around with a fork. To the best of my knowledge, Dick Hercules was not around. “May I join you?” I looked up. It was not Mr.Hercules.…

A poem about Coffee by Dick Hercules

A terrible commotion had erupted in the common room of the GHOP (Gentlemen’s House of Pancakes). The common room, of course, is the one where the riff-raff sit. The ones who eat their pancakes by hand and sip their coffee from the spigot. And never smoke a pipe. I looked up and who did I…

A poem about Pancakes by Dick Hercules

Dear Readers, Some of you may know that on occasion I do function as agent for other (ahem)…writers. At the behest of my client, Diklitous Phantasos Hercules, I somewhat reluctantly post the following. I wish it be known that it is not my choice to do so. Please do not hesitate to contact me with…

The Poetry of Dick Hercules

Who is Dick Hercules? That is the question everyone is asking. Actually, that’s not true. For example, you are not. And no one else is, either. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be. It only means you don’t know you should be. Diklitous Phantasos Hercules is the second most noteworthy personage to hail from the…