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.

Requite

Posted on May 23, 2018 by John Biscello

Real lovers, brave ones, requite to the nth degree, nestled snugly in a hollow shaped to fit their bodies, they assume joint custody of Beauty as they fully twine and engage.

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Kin

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

There are chambers inside myself I have yet to discover or visit, for example, that one room rumored to contain a monk in tattered robes hunched over a yellow table benignly autistic in his relations to text and verses which … Continue reading →

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Gloam

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

Fretted, to beckon gloam, and slant felt shadows, I cannot hold what was never mine to grasp.

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Mercury

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

I have never been a fan of strength in numbers, but rather, love, counted upon to split edges, to chasten the drift and siege of molten core.  

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Voracity

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

She, baring teeth lodged in the jaws of dreamlife, grazes on symmetry and swaths of fire, this diet, recommended in due measures for dreamers only, trades in the manna of satisfaction for whole-bellied hunger, a voracious reckon and spiritual art … Continue reading →

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Of Caves and Dreams

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

Molten, these dreams run, hot, then cold, I, in turn, shift to watch the shadows, balletic ink dancing and lengthening on prehistoric cave walls, and decide that Plato was wrong– We do not mistake shadows for reality, but rather, ourselves, … Continue reading →

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Glisten

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

It is hard to believe, but after years and years of clawing with bitten nails, and digging with torn palms, in the heart of a stone she found the babybluest wisps of cloud, soft nimbus music, to which she tendered … Continue reading →

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Theater of Fire

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

We are spinning on a magma-veined rock that hangs in space, yes, that, in and of itself, phenomena, but for another take– a perfect circle of a world, a teeming galactic bulb hosting the seismic grift and throb of human … Continue reading →

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Nursery School

Posted on May 21, 2018 by John Biscello

Matching wounds to fidelity and grace, scars, mate and sire, in unison, to conflagrate

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Solo for Voices

Posted on May 21, 2018 by John Biscello

Please note– The voices inside your head may not be your own. Begged, borrowed, stolen, implanted from a toxic source, or origins unknown, a mechanical reaping of lyrics speciously sown, there is a lot to consider when brokering intimacy with … Continue reading →

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