Author Archives: John Biscello

Unknown's avatar

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.

Birthing Pains

Posted on October 22, 2020 by John Biscello

To see, everywhere, brave little lights going up, flares of hope and justice, holding hands to tip the scales in a bond of solidarity, a fire-chastened purge and desire for change’s holy golden grail, the quest, a blessed rhyme and … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

At the Beckoning Edge

Posted on October 21, 2020 by John Biscello

Sometimes, you’ve got to stand at the liminal edge, equal parts trespass and yield, your entire life a fragile ceremony of plunge and arc, respiring within spells of wonder.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

From Shards, a Cathedral

Posted on October 21, 2020 by John Biscello

From the absolute hovel of unlettered ruins, a crabby shard, reflecting a tasseled badge of moonlight— this, the modest origins to ceremony and marvel, as she built an outlaw cathedral of self, in which she dwelled and worshipped, vagrantly hospitable … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Anthemic

Posted on October 21, 2020 by John Biscello

Comfort is a privilege, yet kindness and dignity, charity and compassion, are spirit-given rights and blessings, the seeded marrow and initiative of our soul’s turnings toward unequivocal light.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Arson & Grace

Posted on October 21, 2020 by John Biscello

Collection of plays forthcoming from CSF Publishing. Arson & Grace Think of this collection as a black-market passport to a realm of lucid dreams and savage jest. Or as the splintered signpost to a crossroads where pop culture, mythology and … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Books, photography, Press, Publications, Theater | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Brave New World

Posted on October 20, 2020 by John Biscello

We are the keepers of the sacred fire, the shapeshifters and purveyors of starstuff undivided, We, tending to flocks of light and clouds, understand that, come rain or come shine, the founting marvels from God’s lips, and breadth, are a … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Jean Rhys

Posted on October 19, 2020 by John Biscello

You held the islands in your eyes, where it rained and rained and then the sun warmed wet to a wafting hiss. This Jean, you, the feline slink, filigreed shock, and sinewy comb of whitelaced waves ruffling upon puttied blobs … Continue reading →

Posted in Books, photography, Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Jackson Pollock

Posted on October 19, 2020 by John Biscello

Out of silence, and lidded smolder, arose a localized storm. You could say it was a balletic squall forecasting its own tyrant reign and fall, a fate designed to galvanize and then blackout not so gently into that goodnight exit … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, photography, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Losing my Religion

Posted on October 19, 2020 by John Biscello

Religion of rain, I prayed to get wet, and then entered her slowly.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Hurry Slowly

Posted on October 19, 2020 by John Biscello

“Hurry Slowly”was the ticktock mantraof the photographer,Josef Sudek, who praisedand made lasting secret loveto his Muse and ghost-veiledbride, Prague,vowing his fugitive eyeto herand her alone. Photo by Josef Sudek

Posted in Artwork, photography, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment