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Meta
Category Archives: Artwork
Review of Carnet d’AmeriKa
Carnet d’AmeriKa, Erin Currier (2016, CSF Publishing) “To be human is to transform; to be human is to name, then name anew. I must remember the inseparable nature of word and action.” Erin Currier, November 6th, 2004 In a sense … Continue reading
Posted in Artwork, Books, Press
Tagged Carnet d'AmeriKa, CSF Publishing, Erin Currier, John Biscello, Latin America, Review, travel diary
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After Party
She, Lazarus, back from the dead, with a musical vengeance— A beat, Christ, please, she asks of her martyred D.J., half-light, half-man, and out climbs her voice, grinding through rubble, a dark velvet toy wound up for centuries, released, on … Continue reading
Posted in Artwork, Poetry
Tagged Christ, John Biscello, Lady Lazarus, Lazarus, Literary, Poetry
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Ophelia’s Blues
Her sad, sea-green dress, an epitaph, rippling quietly, as if in a dream. The small history of a fresh wraith, white fingers forever separating the bones from the silt.
Posted in Artwork, Poetry
Tagged John Biscello, John Everett Millais, Literary, Ophelia, Poetry
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Feral
At risk of possession by fire, how, in the ripe grip of new language, we grow feral along a trackless rim, greening desire.
Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged John Biscello, language, Literary, passion, Poetry
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Pinch
To hell, lovingly, with gravity as it claims one’s pulse and vitals; a precipitous plunge into faith at the far end of a diminishing tunnel pinched by light.
Aperture
Fade, how the light, contracting Amnesia, tenderly submits by subtly engaging a trick lens.
Posted in Artwork, Poetry
Tagged Bike, Brassai, John Biscello, Light, Literary, Poetry
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Annul
Forgiveness, gravity’s claim on cells duly annulled.
Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged John Biscello, Literary, noell oszvald, Poetry
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Brood
At the wound’s core, dark luscious ravels of text, courting, inviolate measures, the fathomless brood of Beauty’s End.
Posted in Artwork, Poetry
Tagged Beauty, Chua ek Kay, John Biscello, Literary, Poetry, text
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Tangle
Grief, a tangle of hidden hands emerging to bury you standing.
Posted in Artwork, Poetry
Tagged flowers, grief, John Biscello, josef sudek, Literary, Poetry
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God’s Word Against Mine
And on the eighth day she was diagnosed an Artist, and saw that it was good and fierce and necessary, and went forth creating like a madwoman, rattling gravity shackles to the din of furor and crumbling towers within.
John Biscello 