I never learned
the secret delicious recipe
of making a poem
from moon, or the bluest
glacial moon-cheese,
from any of my teachers.
It wasn’t their fault.
They might have regarded
the moon as something alien and distant,
something belonging to astronauts,
astrological envy, and lunatics,
or they might have forgotten
what it feels like to feel the moon
pulsing intimately like a wild epileptic ember
or radiant jumpy spider in their hearts, who knows?
But I sure am glad
that the moon, reigning freely
outside the constraints and jurisdiction
of politics, religion and academia,
directly requests of me, in no uncertain terms—
Make good and inspired use of me, and cook something up,
a verse or two, a haiku, nursery rhyme, whatever,
just burn me into being, and listen closely
to how the stars applaud by winking.
In other words (sometimes the moon rambled on),
everything is an echo of praise and music,
so play me, man, like I’m your homeboy or dancing queen,
play me oh so intimately, without hesitation or reserve,
and our nights together will give your dreams a whole new twist
on living beyond mortal claims
and limits.
Behind the scenes with “James” and “Marilyn.”
Film stills from our Cuckoo rehearsal, improv playtime, and dance lessons.
To find out more about our cinematic mission, or to become a supporter, click here.
Posted in Artwork, Cinema, photography, Press, Prose, Publications, Uncategorized, Video
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Tagged ballad of the cuckoos, Cinema, film still, indie film, John Biscello, laurel and hardy, new mexico cinema, playtime in the cuckoo coop, troy paff, twilight zone
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The slow road
marvels
at the sunken footprints
of its travelers, who,
registering countless steps,
signed heaven to earth,
at a pace befitting
a wanderer’s known paradise.
Practice makes practice,
a craft
and mantra,
through which one enters
and abides Mystery,
wordless, longing,
a skinny blade of grass
bending to kiss the dew
that mirrors clouds
turning to breath
upon the earth
turning.
to dust.
Behind the scenes
of a persona, packed
and bundled,
the changeless weather of yellow,
a light, sounded, to enter.
To find out more about the characters, story and mission of our inspired little-Cuckoo-that-could, dig this video.
And visit the campaign page.
Posted in Artwork, Audio, Cinema, photography, Press, Publications, Uncategorized, Video
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Tagged ballad of the cuckoos, cinemagical, comedy, Drama, indie film, John Biscello, laurel and hardy remixed, movie-making in the desert, romance, Surrealism
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Greetings, soul-folks, and much love as we groove into the creatively charged and spiritually Roaring 20s!
I am thrilled to announce that our crowdsourcing campaign for Ballad of the Cuckoos has officially launched, beneath the gilded magic of tonight’s full moon lunar eclipse. Ballad of the Cuckoos is a short film I wrote and will be directing–a surreal torch song meets Laurel and Hardy in the Twilight Zone–and it will feature Rita O’ Connell and Clint Murphy, with Troy Paff as the film’s director of photography.
Indeed, it takes a village to raise an indie film, and in our case it will take a village of cuckoos to help us raise our baby from the ground floor to the big screen. If you want to be a part of our inspired flight and cinemagical adventure, please peruse our campaign page, and take a few moments to view our “teaser” pitch video. Throughout the campaign, we will be offering reveals, behind-the-scenes footage, interactive engagements, announcements, and more. There are a variety of perks available for backers, including books, T-shirts featuring the Cuckoo logo designed by the inimitable Izumi Yokoyama, and opportunities to put on a fedora at a rakishly tilted angle while living out your secret dream of being a “movie-maker” as you join our team as a producer or executive producer.
Also, if you cannot contribute financially, please consider spreading the word via social media, and helping our Cuckoo wing its way into as many minds and hearts as possible.
View campaign here.
With love, gratitude, and a sense of infinite play,
J.B.
Posted in Artwork, Books, Cinema, photography, Press, Prose, Uncategorized, Video
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Tagged Brooklyn, Cinema, cinemagical adventure, cuckoo rising, flight of the cuckoo, indie film, John Biscello, New Mexico, Taos, what dreams may come, winging it
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Remembered to the calling of ashes,
the lasting phoenix
gives due form to a ceremony
wakened by the leavings of wind.
Beyond the slimmest margins,
a paling, a cooling,
where you can assume
the role of engaged witness
and translate intimacy
into a remembered calling, a friend
without want or ceiling.
The other day
I met a monk who juggled watermelon seeds
with his tongue.
When I asked him how he did it,
he spit the seeds at me,
a staccato stream of seed-bullets
as if the monk were no monk at all
but rather a cartoon gangster, or vaudeville gunner.
I ducked.
All of the seeds flew over my head
except for one, the lone seed that clung
to the top of my shoulder.
The monk’s eyes wrinkled with silent laughter,
which soon emitted from his nostrils and mouth
as a soft hissing sound.
How do you do that, he pointed at the seed
perched on my shoulder.
I smiled and shrugged and the seed fell off.
On the way home I stopped at the grocery store and bought a watermelon.
When I got home I cut it open and made a project out of seed-removal.
Then I tried juggling seeds with my tongue, but to no avail.
Several hours later, having not made any progress with my juggling act,
I sat down and stared at the lovely sloppy wreckage of watermelon and rind,
and at, or rather into the dreamlife of seeds gathered in a small glass bowl.
I picked up one of the seeds and planted it on my shoulder.
It’s easy, I said, as if the monk were there watching and listening,
and his silence roared like the most marvelous applause.
John Biscello 