Category Archives: Poetry

It Begins With A Whisper

Posted on December 3, 2020 by John Biscello

In a world of far too many assassins, conducting strikes, consciously or un, on souls and their tenderest wilds, we need more whisperers, those miming the cursive gist of stars, willing to rise up in choir and share the stories … Continue reading →

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Housewarming

Posted on December 1, 2020 by John Biscello

“The already human being in whom I had sought shelter for my body yielded nothing to the storm. The house clung close to me, like a she-wolf, and at times, I could smell her odor penetrating maternally to my very … Continue reading →

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Sanctuary

Posted on December 1, 2020 by John Biscello

“It is on the plane of the daydream and not on that of facts that childhood remains alive and poetically useful within us. Through this permanent childhood, we maintain the poetry of the past. To inhabit oneirically the house we … Continue reading →

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Tongues

Posted on December 1, 2020 by John Biscello

“To meditative minds the ineffable is cryptic, inarticulate: dots, marks of secret meaning, scattered hints, to be gathered, deciphered and formed into evidence; while in moments of insight the ineffable is a metaphor in a forgotten mother tongue.” — Abraham … Continue reading →

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Slow Burn

Posted on December 1, 2020 by John Biscello

“He who has realized that sun and stars and souls do not ramble in a vacuum will keep his heart in readiness for the hour when the world is entranced.” — Abraham Joshua Heschel, I Asked for Wonder With or … Continue reading →

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The Choice is Yours, or, Ch-Ch-Changes

Posted on November 30, 2020 by John Biscello

Make no mistake about it— We are, collectively, at a crossroads, one which clearly, sharply, and without suffering lightly any more of the same ol same ol bullshit is asking us as individuals— Are you going to remain in blame, … Continue reading →

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As Fate Would Have It

Posted on November 30, 2020 by John Biscello

“Fate will have it—and this has always been the case with me—that all the ‘outer’ aspects of my life should be accidental. Only what is interior has proved to have substance and a determining value.” — Carl Jung He knew … Continue reading →

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Breaking the Mold

Posted on November 30, 2020 by John Biscello

“All that matters now is the ‘deep inner serenity for the sake of creation.’ Though whether I shall ever ‘create’ is something I can’t really tell. But I do believe that it is possible to create, even without ever writing … Continue reading →

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Night and Day

Posted on November 26, 2020 by John Biscello

In the fasting age of the world’s lengthy night, hunger for reclamation projects, and restoration of citing visions long overdue– all is stilled to know the suture of light, moving quietly across tenderest stitches, upon which symmetry is duly derived … Continue reading →

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Choir

Posted on November 26, 2020 by John Biscello

“… even in the darkest times we have a right to expect some illumination . . . This may well come less from theories and concepts than from the uncertain, flickering, and often weak light that some men and women, … Continue reading →

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