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.

What Did I Miss?

Fall in the city. A building offers the glyphic runes of a tectonic language in relief that goes unnoticed by the woman who has just seen her lover listening to another woman closely.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)

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Lighting Scheme

Illuminated, but with razors, the shadow found a face to give its cinematic debut a twist on types fitted to escape plans in small, forgotten rooms.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)

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Fall in the City

There were too many pieces to the puzzle, too many keen faults in the symmetry. She locked eyes with the darkened window of the building across the street, and when vertigo took the elevator down to meet her where she … Continue reading

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Neverending

An epic fable, resounded by the wind’s score– Stories, sown from lore.

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Elements in the Making

Lone tree on the hill, has nothing to say to sky– Praise, moved to silence.

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His and Hers

I saw us, my love, long after we were gone– Ghosts of lives, well-worn.

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Here’s Looking at Us

Is this not the art and trick to being human, and in love? A matter of perspective, a rooted widening, wherein distances harbor the marvels of intimacy in rapt enclosure?

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Her

She, the mystery, to whom I turn toward, falling, with light in my eyes.

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Corner Shot

The word on the street kept him waiting for a dame made of ink-wet dreams.

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Coquetry

The sea’s salt-fringed skirt glistens, while flashing rare pearls- Shoreline pants, waiting.    

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