John Biscello

Apple

Posted on May 30, 2019 by John Biscello

The apple

doesn’t beg to be loved,

it keeps still,

appling to the utmost,

as rain and sunlight

seep into

the gravity of its core.

(Photo by Josef Sudek)

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Apple, John Biscello, josef sudek, photography, poem, rain and sun, still life | Leave a comment

Once Removed

Posted on May 30, 2019 by John Biscello

Estranged, yet aloft,

in a world her vision sculpts–

Adulthood far off.

(Photo by Josef Sudek)

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged childhood, estrangement, haiku, in the country, John Biscello, josef sudek, photo | Leave a comment

Typeface

Posted on May 30, 2019 by John Biscello

This machine

kills the seeds of fascism

by establishing ritualized patterns

of beauty

and delicate order,

its lines level

the playing field

with utmost mercy

and precision–

Hurry Now, Act Quickly,

and type your heart out,

and we’ll throw in

the keys to the kingdom

at no extra charge.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged clacking rhythms, express yourself!, John Biscello, keys to the kingdom, poem, tried and true, typewriter | Leave a comment

Dominion

Posted on May 30, 2019 by John Biscello

Living becomes a habit,

a surging one that’s hard to break.

But death, its sworn mate

with the notorious reputation,

always lurks beneath,

a husking catalyst

bent on dreamless repose,

and the pooling of changes

to seed the furtherance of plot.

Posted in Cinema, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged david lynch, death's dominion, John Biscello, poem, there are faces I remember, Twin Peaks, whatever happened to laura palmer? | 2 Comments

Summer’s Last Song

Posted on May 30, 2019 by John Biscello

How very closely

a pose of triumph mimics

grounding, before flight.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged falling and falling, haiku, John Biscello, Lana Del Rey, poem, summertime and the living ain't always easy, summertime sadness | Leave a comment

Cuckoo

Posted on May 27, 2019 by John Biscello

Cuckoos

Surreal torch song meets Laurel and Hardy in the Twilight Zone in this short film set in a one-room universe.

Cuckoo-for-Cinema fundraising campaign coming soon, as we begin the intial stages in our inspired flight into the wild celluloid yonder.

Posted in Artwork, Cinema, Press, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged Cinema, cuckoo for cinema, debut film, existential absurdity, izumi yokoyama, John Biscello, laurel and hardy, short film, Taos, twilight zone, what dreams may come | Leave a comment

The Looking Glass

Posted on May 26, 2019 by John Biscello

It was how

we decided to see ourselves,

tailored to a fit

of original distortion,

which, over time,

would be clarified

to a point

of unimaginable error

and distraction.

(First ever TV image, 1926)

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged drawn and quartered, image conscious, John Biscello, poem, screen time, TV Land | 3 Comments

Rending on High

Posted on May 24, 2019 by John Biscello

The angel is not nice,

nor sweet as pie in the sky

or Disneyified to package

the ecstasy as something

more benignly palatable,

no, the angel is radically

explicit, unfiltered,

and true to its cause,

exacting

the swiftest

deepest means

necessary

to ennoble rapture

with no mortal recourse.

(Image: Bernini’s “Ecstasy of St. Teresa”)

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged angel, bernini, bliss, italy, John Biscello, poem, rapture, saint teresa, sculpture, spearheading | Leave a comment

The Calling

Posted on May 24, 2019 by John Biscello

To live by a code,

riveted to Fate’s decree–

sword dipped in moonlight.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged female samurai, haiku, japan, John Biscello, when destiny calls | Leave a comment

Ryokan Was Here

Posted on May 24, 2019 by John Biscello

Is it lonely, hmmm?

Single tree fondled by the

moist fingers of mist.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged all this mist, haiku, John Biscello, poem, Ryokan, this lonely life, wandering, zen | 1 Comment

The apple

doesn’t beg to be loved,

it keeps still,

appling to the utmost,

as rain and sunlight

seep into

the gravity of its core.

(Photo by Josef Sudek)

Estranged, yet aloft,

in a world her vision sculpts–

Adulthood far off.

(Photo by Josef Sudek)

This machine

kills the seeds of fascism

by establishing ritualized patterns

of beauty

and delicate order,

its lines level

the playing field

with utmost mercy

and precision–

Hurry Now, Act Quickly,

and type your heart out,

and we’ll throw in

the keys to the kingdom

at no extra charge.

Living becomes a habit,

a surging one that’s hard to break.

But death, its sworn mate

with the notorious reputation,

always lurks beneath,

a husking catalyst

bent on dreamless repose,

and the pooling of changes

to seed the furtherance of plot.

How very closely

a pose of triumph mimics

grounding, before flight.

Surreal torch song meets Laurel and Hardy in the Twilight Zone in this short film set in a one-room universe.

Cuckoo-for-Cinema fundraising campaign coming soon, as we begin the intial stages in our inspired flight into the wild celluloid yonder.

It was how

we decided to see ourselves,

tailored to a fit

of original distortion,

which, over time,

would be clarified

to a point

of unimaginable error

and distraction.

(First ever TV image, 1926)

The angel is not nice,

nor sweet as pie in the sky

or Disneyified to package

the ecstasy as something

more benignly palatable,

no, the angel is radically

explicit, unfiltered,

and true to its cause,

exacting

the swiftest

deepest means

necessary

to ennoble rapture

with no mortal recourse.

(Image: Bernini’s “Ecstasy of St. Teresa”)

To live by a code,

riveted to Fate’s decree–

sword dipped in moonlight.

Is it lonely, hmmm?

Single tree fondled by the

moist fingers of mist.

Archives

Meta

Categories