Category Archives: Poetry

Wheelbarrow

Posted on June 30, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Josef Sudek’s “Contrasts, St. Vitus Cathedral”). Considering the slopes of noble toil and grave matter, so much depends upon a soiled wheelbarrow.

Posted in Artwork, Poetry | Tagged church, John Biscello, josef sudek, Light, Literary, photography, Poetry, prague, shadow, wheelbarrow | Leave a comment

Mass

Posted on June 30, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Josef Sudek’s “At Church.) jesus christ we applaud your shaded storehouse of yesterday’s cured pulp and no account sins, a meat pack industry at love’s labor’s cost; we, the proud brood of salt and bread, walk … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged at church, christianity, devotion, John Biscello, josef sudek, Literary, mass, photography, Poetry, prague, sin | Leave a comment

Leaf

Posted on June 29, 2016 by John Biscello

(Written in response to Josef Sudek’s “From the Window of my Atelier” series) A single leaf, solitary, unattached, at home in space, feral pucker seizing upon glass, a lonely kiss moist to the crunch.

Posted in Artwork, Poetry | Tagged John Biscello, josef sudek, kiss, leaf, photography, Poetry, solitary, window | Leave a comment

Yellow is the Color of my Sad

Posted on June 26, 2016 by John Biscello

Yellow is the color of my sad, how it runs. Some think it is blue but it is not. Blue is the common choice for color/me/sad, the popular one (how moods get typecast), but yellow is much sadder than blue, … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Poetry | Tagged abstract, Blue, grief, John Biscello, Literary, Mark Rothko, painting, Poetry, sad, Yellow | Leave a comment

stones, passing

Posted on June 21, 2016 by John Biscello

At the carnival I was most intrigued by the stone-swallower. A waifish bronze-skinned lady with dark hair, plaited, and slender fingers. I was rapt, watching the way she carefully arranged the stones to form a sort of pyramid at her … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Poetry | Tagged carnival, cleaning piece, John Biscello, Literary, morning beams, Poetry, prayer, ritual, stones, yoko ono | Leave a comment

Elegy

Posted on June 20, 2016 by John Biscello

small hands folding paper cranes as grief rises

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged crane, grief, hands, John Biscello, Literary, paper, Poetry, small | Leave a comment

Cafe

Posted on June 20, 2016 by John Biscello

At the small, time-worn cafe, the woman in the bell-shaped hat of crushed green velvet, palms warmed by the chipped enamel mug of dark coffee, this woman, setting adrift a gondola of words to cross the unsayable, reaching, with grave … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged absence, cafe, chair, grief, hat, John Biscello, Literary, Poetry, table, woman | Leave a comment

Drift

Posted on June 19, 2016 by John Biscello

How to live patiently, in praise of mysterious drift, the questions burning dark in your heart, stolen keys fitted to foreign locks; you, spy and thief to your own drama, holding shadows to high standards, must abide with fierce intent, … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged drift, enigma, grace, John Biscello, Literary, patience, Poetry | 3 Comments

Regarding Miss Stein

Posted on June 16, 2016 by John Biscello

How the petaled complexities of the infinite rose is a rose is a rose sires tender turns through mounting cursive.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged gerturde stein, John Biscello, Literary, Poetry, recursion, rose | Leave a comment

Finite Jest

Posted on June 15, 2016 by John Biscello

Picking God’s scabs with a savage hangnail— define satire.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged God, jest, John Biscello, Literary, Poetry, satire | Leave a comment