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.

Ballads are Forever

Posted on April 19, 2019 by John Biscello

Moonsongs cry their own rivers through the cloudmade mouths of babes in woods at night when all the livelong world is a lush ballad awash in the whirling flakes of broken hearts slivered with mercy and there is always room … Continue reading →

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Humanity

Posted on April 19, 2019 by John Biscello

She came to know him through the brushwork of fingers– Light, the common touch.   (Image of Charlie Chaplin meeting Helen Keller)  

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Outsourcing

Posted on April 18, 2019 by John Biscello

The woman, smiling, gave her man one more reason to feel endangered.

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Icarus by Any Other Name

Posted on April 18, 2019 by John Biscello

Embers of a flight, it wasn’t rocket science– Maybe next time, kid.   (Artwork by Matisse)

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Dinner Date from Hell

Posted on April 18, 2019 by John Biscello

They take, and they don’t take lightly– Vicious cycles sometimes have faces with barren eyes and aphid bellies full of insatiable desire– Consider the state of your soul’s diet, and exorcise regularly.

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Gray Matter

Posted on April 18, 2019 by John Biscello

While waiting for the bus that stopped running many years ago the empty bench dreamed of a world where people still had time to sit and drift along in reveries that led nowhere slowly.

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Patterning

Posted on April 18, 2019 by John Biscello

Strains of lunacy, befalling poets and clowns– Homesick for the moon.   (Artwork by Cezanne)

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The Wash

Posted on April 17, 2019 by John Biscello

It is not her grief but ours, seeking pure outlet beyond mortal scars.

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Georgia

Posted on April 17, 2019 by John Biscello

It was exact, and inflamed, her relationship to the line, to the geometry of tension and its stringent brood– Craft demands the utmost attention, which she paid, by subjecting the veins of petals and moon-eaten skulls to the edges of … Continue reading →

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Strip

Posted on April 17, 2019 by John Biscello

In a whitehot flash, the map of one’s life exposed– Many roles, then fade.

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