Category Archives: Uncategorized

All Those Who Enter

Posted on June 17, 2018 by John Biscello

The young boy asked me, What is it exactly that grows in the cavehunger depths and wilds of the heart? No one knows, dear boy, it is the most hidden and magnificent of countries, all I can say is that … Continue reading →

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How the Heart Rains

Posted on June 17, 2018 by John Biscello

My heart, as a fool forever in love with love’s mercurial climate, does not beg for static coverage, or seasons to stop voicing their natural patterns, yet my heart, childlike in its prehistory, sometimes strives to alchemize the weather, to … Continue reading →

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Fireproof

Posted on June 17, 2018 by John Biscello

Learn to stand still, inviolably still, in the vortex of fire, and bear true witness; every bloom holds within its tenor the epitaph of it ashes, every loss tenders the wick for epiphany, learn to remain softly yet firmly still … Continue reading →

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Cavespeak

Posted on June 17, 2018 by John Biscello

Sometimes it is like surfing the gloam and reaching down to draw softly rounded syllables from curdles of gray in order to raise the heart’s homesick climes from its deepest and most hidden caves.

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Ghosting

Posted on June 15, 2018 by John Biscello

(Excerpt from Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale) I closed my notebook and sat motionless at my desk for a long while, feeling flat and infirm. Then, not able to put it off any longer, it was time to disengage my … Continue reading →

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Plaything

Posted on June 15, 2018 by John Biscello

Fictionalize me, martyr me to your crosses and lost causes, give me a form by which my double can register touch, and seeds of desire, twitching and sputtering in the blue flames of fabulous opera, make me the husky baritone … Continue reading →

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Mouth

Posted on June 14, 2018 by John Biscello

That mouth, I remember, an evocative nursery of lost things, a fierce swallower of galactic bulbs and starburned roots, it took in so much, didn’t it? announcing to the belly’s slowchurning greenfire, to the lips bluequiver icegarden riot, I am … Continue reading →

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Plume

Posted on June 14, 2018 by John Biscello

Your specific brood, and row of white noise, coupled with blood running its own goverment like a harem spooning an undertow, it is there, I loiter, taking notes through the ribbed plume of my softest tongue.

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Eventide

Posted on June 14, 2018 by John Biscello

The grayvoice, wrinkly in its soiled pucker and ancientnewness, heeded, and sung, to freight and hoist the downgoing adventure up, up, up into silvercoined spates of eventide, the furthest reaches so damned close to dreamcountry it hurts to fathom or … Continue reading →

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Roots

Posted on June 14, 2018 by John Biscello

My heart, forever the weeded ace and wandering fool, scored to secret pines, sings of resident gloam pooled in that forest of backlit signs, which grows beyond its clipped horizons to invigorate departures, spurred by the genius of wordless roots.

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