Monthly Archives: November 2022

Give Us This Day

Posted on November 15, 2022 by John Biscello

Everything always going on. People worry about everything not going on but what they’re really saying beneath the waves what they’re subliminally saying and worrying about is them not going on. Everything going on and them not. How to reconcile … Continue reading →

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Belfry

Posted on November 14, 2022 by John Biscello

Make the small your domain. Your belfry for lost hours. Within the small words gather to tremble to sublimate to keep solitude company. Also they become cinema in which you are watching words gather to keep solitude company that being … Continue reading →

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In the Dark

Posted on November 14, 2022 by John Biscello

In the dark I tell myself stories cycling through different guises different spells and guesses to sublimate an existential itch I cannot scratch. In batches the words arrive wingless like immigrants from distant shores. I go there hungover from daily … Continue reading →

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Partitions

Posted on November 14, 2022 by John Biscello

It has been called this mortal longing and we have all hailed there all ached there swearing. Between lisping partitions of rain we seek phantom threads blue gray promising to guide us down unmarked roads to deepening distances. Seeking being … Continue reading →

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Here There Be Dream Tigers

Posted on November 14, 2022 by John Biscello

Here we are hooded in shadows with tigers green fire eyes lighting up new seasons. Tigers green fire eyes the forests of emeralds burning of bedazzlement and jade bewitching. We enter calmly at our own risk. We heard that one … Continue reading →

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The Unseen

Posted on November 14, 2022 by John Biscello

We lie here in fields dreaming unseen and fondle ourselves forgetting ourselves. In intermittent flashes elegies come as summons as reminders advertising what it was like to be human whenever that was. What was it like to be human the … Continue reading →

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Exit Through the Gift Shop

Posted on November 13, 2022 by John Biscello

We’ve heard rumors that God doesn’t know he exists. She exists. It. Whatever the gender or genderless you get the picture. God doesn’t know there is such thing as God that he is this thing we call God this blessed … Continue reading →

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Labyrinth

Posted on November 13, 2022 by John Biscello

You say no more words because it is something to say, a way to get started on using more words to constellate yourself, to orient your innate trembling. Mapless, we wander. To wander, mapless and wordless, what would that be … Continue reading →

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Through the Dreaming

Posted on November 13, 2022 by John Biscello

Born from the long forgotten the golems drift in the company of echoes. Half lit unremembered near to beingness you can hear the golems muttering inaudibly. Their mouths stuffed with wombs dreaming gumming up their enunciation. The words don’t come. … Continue reading →

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Bone Jig

Posted on November 11, 2022 by John Biscello

My mother’s bones. My mother’s bones resounding in my ears piercing my eardrums. Death rattle of the dusty gourd. Of the earth’s grief calling to us to restore. Calling upon us to become wardens attendants to vibrations crossing passages. To … Continue reading →

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