Category Archives: Artwork

Woven

Posted on April 12, 2019 by John Biscello

There once was a spider, gothic in temperament, who swallowed a cage containing your mother’s bones and the emptiness you craved; fasting on silence, your teeth darkened and grew sharp, while your hands, subject to course, fashioned the strictest symmetry … Continue reading →

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Refuge

Posted on April 8, 2019 by John Biscello

The pyramids, askew and caped in starless dark, architected by a child who needed a construct into which he could invite silence to keep him absolute company until the violence stopped.   (Artwork by Cy Twombly)

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The Woods

Posted on April 8, 2019 by John Biscello

In the theater of the absurd, black widows make silky, haunted love to depressed, anorexic stalactites as the radio preys on sound to give the moonless woods its membraney tableaux of silence.   (Cyanotype by Christian Marclay)  

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Breeze

Posted on April 4, 2019 by John Biscello

Modeling a breeze, exultancy became her, wave by breaking wave.   (Photo by Anne Brigman)

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First Course

Posted on April 4, 2019 by John Biscello

Awakened, by the sound of light, revelations began feeding her from roots down to sky.   (Photo by Anne Brigman)

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Ghostprints

Posted on April 3, 2019 by John Biscello

Long before there was Adam’s itchy rib and Eve’s ruptured spleen there was a travesty of hands a transversal flowerbed of fngers reaching in jilted unsion to grasp not the meaning of God but rather the infinitely sweeping hem of … Continue reading →

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Rainy Day Concerto

Posted on April 2, 2019 by John Biscello

Hello, floating world, tilted by sudden downpour– In crossing, feet sing.   (Artwork by Hiroshige)

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The Fugitive

Posted on April 2, 2019 by John Biscello

One of these mornings, when the weather was different, more forgiving, she would catch up to herself, that fretful woman always just ahead, fifty to one hundred steps or so, hastening to avoid the rain-darkened woman always just behind her … Continue reading →

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Coupling

Posted on April 2, 2019 by John Biscello

Longing comes to know itself as a bushy plant straddling the mist-slicked head of a motionless bike, the soft conjoining tease of silhouettes banking on an anonymous night.   (Photo by Brassai)    

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Dinner’s Guess and Coming to Who

Posted on April 2, 2019 by John Biscello

Young man, get in this kitchen RIGHT NOW and clean up your mess, we have guests coming for dinner and what would they say if they saw a guitar aborting a knife into a drawer framed for murder? And where … Continue reading →

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