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.

You Are Here

Posted on January 21, 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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Awakening

Posted on January 21, 2020 by John Biscello

Did I look down, or peer within when I saw the golden grass waving like liquid tendrils of light? At the soft, rounded edge of dream, a beckoning to fall, to endear charm to the fool’s play calling your truest … Continue reading →

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Throb

Posted on January 21, 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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Shadowplay

Posted on January 20, 2020 by John Biscello

How lovely the metaphors that drop from your lips like feted pellets of rain, and yet lovelier still, the way their shadows leave warm wet stains wherever my skin opens to catch you.

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Firsting Impression

Posted on January 20, 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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Red Balloon

Posted on January 19, 2020 by John Biscello

A red balloon says so much about the sky, and the weightless wonder of children, when desire, bated aloft by the sun, gives free-spirited chase to the play of light on basking reams of nimbus and lore.

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Send to Returner

Posted on January 19, 2020 by John Biscello

At the edge of a weathered postcard, the faintest glisten, by which memory holds true and offers proof–There were people, a trip, a sea, clouds, fragile patterns, mist. There was this life, where we dreamed, where we loved, and so … Continue reading →

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How the Heart Sings

Posted on January 19, 2020 by John Biscello

The heart, a nocturnal flower, with light on its lips, holds in tenderest esteem every single thing under the sun, budding to perish, to seed praise without fetters or distinction.

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The Moon and Me

Posted on January 19, 2020 by John Biscello

I never learned the secret delicious recipe of making a poem from moon, or the bluest glacial moon-cheese, from any of my teachers. It wasn’t their fault. They might have regarded the moon as something alien and distant, something belonging … Continue reading →

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Stills from the Cuckoo Coop

Posted on January 15, 2020 by John Biscello

Behind the scenes with “James” and “Marilyn.” Film stills from our Cuckoo rehearsal, improv playtime, and dance lessons. To find out more about our cinematic mission, or to become a supporter, click here.

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