Author Archives: John Biscello

About John Biscello

Originally from Brooklyn, NY, novelist, poet, performer, playwright and filmmaker, John Biscello, has lived in the high-desert grunge-wonderland of Taos, New Mexico since 2001. He is the author of six novels, Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale, Raking the Dust, Nocturne Variations, No Man’s Brooklyn, The Last Furies, and No One Dreams in Color; 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 plays have been staged and performed both nationally and internationally.

Catalog

Posted on September 18, 2016 by John Biscello

I have begun to name and catalog the different types of dark. It helps. Warm-dark, cave-dark, void-dark, womb-dark, sleep-dark, Eros-dark, blank-dark, siege-dark, and there is the anonymous dark that gets in your head and behind your eyes and in your … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged catalog, dark, John Biscello, josef sudek, Literary, Poetry, rain, window | 7 Comments

Draft

Posted on September 16, 2016 by John Biscello

There are no mirrors here, yet everywhere I see myself, a bated draft of furls, each bearing the right to exist, and respire ably.

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged child, epitpah, John Biscello, josef sudek, Literary, Mirror, Poetry, window | Leave a comment

Epitaph, the Hidden Diary of an Inner Child

Posted on September 13, 2016 by John Biscello

Today: Bidden by tatters, and gravity’s mutable arc, the palpitations guide me. They are subtle, duly engaged, a milk-slow run of shivers. Bracing the rim, I peer out of cavedark: everything is sudden, color-soaked, a ferocious din and melt, fringed … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Artwork, birth, coming of age, death, diary, ghost, girl, inner child, John Biscello, Literary, Poetry, trauma | Leave a comment

Recall

Posted on September 6, 2016 by John Biscello

It is, I think, the rote platitudes and uniform responses drawn from an armored template or assembly-line gremlin (another day another dollar, same old same old, can’t complain, yea but you’ve got to be realistic) that are the slow malignant … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged expression, John Biscello, language, Literary, Poetry | Leave a comment

How Fall Happens

Posted on August 29, 2016 by John Biscello

Plunging climate of needles and memory, a plaited sorrow. I listen, with mute intent, for the fetal cortege of leaves, turning then falling fast into the maternal crook of an outgoing wind.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged autumn, fall, John Biscello, Literary, memory, Poetry, season, sorrow | Leave a comment

The Horse’s Mouth

Posted on August 25, 2016 by John Biscello

Audio track of the spoken word piece, “The Horse’s Mouth” (for Dylan Thomas), with Ben Wright on bass, published in the September issue of the Virtual Artists Collective. Listen here.

Posted in Audio, Poetry, Publications | Tagged Ben Wright, Dylan Thomas, John Biscello, Literary, Poetry, Spoken Word, virtual artists collective | Leave a comment

Usher

Posted on August 22, 2016 by John Biscello

August, its days nearly numbered, summer’s pink noiseless fade and exit (how cicadas bury their voices in hollows of silence), autumn’s fresh jags of Memory, reaping, with finite sorrow, the climate-cracked shells of seeds (how tiny birds bury their songs … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged autumn, cicada, fall, John Biscello, Literary, loss, memory, Poetry, sorrow, summer | Leave a comment

Bearing

Posted on August 18, 2016 by John Biscello

Friends, and loved ones, I know that so many of you are struggling with shadow-play right now, that your hands are busy knitting in the dark, negotiating long-held absences and haunts, humanly attempting to massage muddle and confusion into clarity; … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged camellia, grace, John Biscello, Light, Literary, Poetry, shadow, unity | Leave a comment

Beat, Bop & Abstraction

Posted on August 12, 2016 by John Biscello

It took place in an amnesiac haze and fury, numberless nights of lightningspeak and opiate rabble, rocketfuel and anti-freeze, bright ribbons of noise amounting to worry stones indenting the soft pink center of palms, on and on and on, fugitive … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Poetry | Tagged Abstract Expressionism, beat, bop, charlie parker, jack kerouac, Jackson Pollock, John Biscello, Literary, Poetry, saturnalia | Leave a comment

At the Bottom of Childhood’s Well

Posted on August 12, 2016 by John Biscello

It is a magic time, it is a deadly time. We are fresh and newly forming, we excel in discoveries, delight in newness. Our souls are malleable, there is fluidity and grace oozing from us, and with … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose | Tagged childhood, John Biscello, Literary, mercy, Prose, soul, well | Leave a comment