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.

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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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 →

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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.

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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 →

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