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.

From the Sorcerer’s Handbook

Posted on October 25, 2019 by John Biscello

Do not explain music Do not explain dreams the elusive penetrates everything You must know that everything rhymes —Wols   There is something deeply comforting about this, deeply reassuring. Everything rhymes. A universe of correspondences, of sequential richness, metaphysical jazz. … Continue reading →

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

October’s Bones

Posted on October 21, 2019 by John Biscello

In honor of the 50th anniversary of Jack Kerouac’s “death-day” departure for roads unknown. When I was a young man, a budding scribe eager to blossom white fire, and scabbed lotuses, you meant the world to me. You exposed me … Continue reading →

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

The Factory

Posted on October 15, 2019 by John Biscello

Review of Hiroko Oyamada’s award-winning debut novel, The Factory. The year was 1936, when an indefatigable tramp served as a working-class Virgil in guiding audiences through the hellscape of big business industry and assembly line madness. The tramp, of course, … Continue reading →

Posted in Books, Press, Prose, Publications, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Free Play

Posted on October 7, 2019 by John Biscello

We live in a world of alchemy and swing, a freeform board game for sounding and experiment, and anyone that tells you any different has simply forgotten how to engage the play of their lives, or sow the grit, resin … Continue reading →

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

Homing Device

Posted on October 7, 2019 by John Biscello

The soul doesn’t calculate, it syncs itself to the legend of its origins, the glyphic runes and white-hot bones of constellational remains, where we, in costumed exile, linger and tow the fasting freight of dreams, upon which our lives are … Continue reading →

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

Starstuff

Posted on October 6, 2019 by John Biscello

Mariko was a photographer of stars. It feels funny to put it that way. It sounds as if she photographed celebrities.She only took photos of stars in the night sky.  She said the stars were her real home and that’s … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Mariko

Posted on October 6, 2019 by John Biscello

I knew from the beginning that Mariko was haunted, but there was nothing I could do about it. My only choice was to love her, and until the very end. I have five photographs left of Mariko. I burned all … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Raspberries

Posted on October 4, 2019 by John Biscello

  Mariko knew a lot of interesting things about space. For example: astronomers theorized that, based on its chemical make-up, the dust from the nebula that gave birth to our sun would taste like raspberries. And that the closer you … Continue reading →

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

Growing Legend

Posted on October 3, 2019 by John Biscello

Metamorphosis makes demands on us all, and imposes its necessary will, but love, rooted in omnipresence, is not subject to change. It is a legend, limitless in freight and scope, and famous for its radiant center.

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

Autumn Leaves

Posted on September 30, 2019 by John Biscello

Grieving, the swoonlit swans, crying last songs softly into autumn’s russet and moonfed belly.

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