Author Archives: John Biscello

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About John Biscello

Originally from Brooklyn, NY, writer, poet, performer, and playwright, John Biscello, has lived in the high-desert grunge-wonderland of Taos, New Mexico since 2001. He is the author of four novels, Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale, Raking the Dust, Nocturne Variations, and No Man’s Brooklyn; a collection of stories, Freeze Tag, two poetry collections, Arclight and Moonglow on Mercy Street; and a fable, The Jackdaw and the Doll, illustrated by Izumi Yokoyama. He also adapted classic fables, which were paired with the vintage illustrations of artist, Paul Bransom, for the collection: Once Upon a Time, Classic Fables Reimagined. His produced, full-length plays include: LOBSTERS ON ICE, ADAGIO FOR STRAYS, THE BEST MEDICINE, ZEITGEIST, U.S.A., and WEREWOLVES DON’T WALTZ.

Harmonics

Posted on October 26, 2020 by John Biscello

We, the people, the portal-jumpers, re-seeding our modes of vision and being, to score the heart’s greening bounty, as if notes to a torch song, buried and nearly forgotten, and now being recalled to give Grace her due and amazing … Continue reading →

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Found Blue

Posted on October 25, 2020 by John Biscello

We do not enter the bluest hours, they come upon us, tender fugue and gallows silk, where we, in blatant trembling sheerness, are revealed to ourselves as the bated wisps between air and perish.

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Firsting Impression

Posted on October 25, 2020 by John Biscello

It happens fast, this life— the first trembling chapter of an impending sneeze, the half-slitted stutter of a lid’s ambition to wink— We are, timewise, less than these things in the gaugeless cosmic scheme. And yet beyond these words, and … Continue reading →

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Ascension

Posted on October 25, 2020 by John Biscello

Crisped at the edges, gilded wings of the Phoenix fanning flames to rise. Image by Izumi Yokoyama

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Throb

Posted on October 23, 2020 by John Biscello

It is the caste of throb in which words, palpitating, line up to serve a poem’s desirous need to know your longing as an open source.

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Weathervane

Posted on October 23, 2020 by John Biscello

In the climate change of one’s heart, a weathervane, doubling as compass, pointing to true north, as we, the wandering homesick orphans, are called forth to brave the wilds of a new breaking dawn.

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You Are Here

Posted on October 23, 2020 by John Biscello

To venerate, the privilege of air inside the ceremony of lungs and chance, where you, as an honored guest, get to ripen and breathe the adventure of your name into a free-range universe.

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The Way of the Fool

Posted on October 22, 2020 by John Biscello

To marvel dumbly, and trespass, with a sense of the infinite backlighting a wink– this, the way of the Fool, or sacred is as sacred does, when trusting the air in its holy relationship to plunge.

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Film Treatment

Posted on October 22, 2020 by John Biscello

Silence, within a dark empty theater, starring you on a blank screen.

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Calling

Posted on October 22, 2020 by John Biscello

Beyond the slimmest margins, a paling, a cooling, where you can assume the role of engaged witness and translate intimacy into a remembered calling, a friend without want or ceiling.

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