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.

Nocturne

Posted in Audio, photography, Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Lore and Order

Posted in Audio, photography, Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Born Yesterday

Posted in Artwork, Audio, photography, Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

In the Beginning

Posted in Audio, photography, Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Storytellers

Posted in Artwork, Audio, photography, Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

The Village

Posted in Artwork, Audio, Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Lemon

I don’t tell him there is no such thing as Claudia Lemon, she’s invented, he knows nothing about Clarise Lermontov, my ghost, my first country, there is no Clarise, only Claudia Lemon,  and there is the young girl who loved … Continue reading

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

Scenes from a Novel

Text puzzle pieces of a novel in progress, i.e., vagabond fragments seeking dissonant merger with harmonious whole.

Posted in Books, Poetry, Prose, Publications | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Birthing Slivers

She came to me when I was a child. Let’s say when I was two, no three. She came to me when I was three. That is me, aged three, centuries ago, someone else’s tears crystallized into this frail pulsing … Continue reading

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

Our Lady of Dust

They taught us dust. Those were our lessons. There were other lessons but allegedly none more important than the lessons in dust the sermons. We dreamed dust. We ate dust. There was dust favoring the sunlight insisting upon the rotting … Continue reading

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