John Biscello

Empire State

Posted on March 18, 2018 by John Biscello

Empirical scope,

is all that we ask of fame–

Steady now, steady.

(Photo of Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick)

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged andy warhol, arts, Edie Sedgwick, empire state building, fame, haiku, John Biscello, New York, poem, pop culture, Stars | Leave a comment

Balloon, Sun

Posted on March 18, 2018 by John Biscello

The Red Balloon

of storybook legend,

after having reached its pinnacle

of fame,

decided to reinvent itself

as a crimson bauble

of a sun,

reigning supreme

over a private world

of geometry and symbols,

a realm

of pure spirit and play

where humans

hadn’t yet come

to exist

as agents of ruin.

(Artwork by Paul Klee)

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Artwork, dream, geometry, John Biscello, myth, painting, paul klee, poem, red balloon, symbols, visual | Leave a comment

Mercy

Posted on March 18, 2018 by John Biscello

Always a mother,

always gentle enclosure–

Between palms, mercy.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged compassion, guadalupe, haiku, healing, icon, John Biscello, love, mercy, mother, poem, saint, virgin mother | Leave a comment

Haunt

Posted on March 18, 2018 by John Biscello

Make me an offer,

they shoot pretty girls, don’t they?

Leave haunting to me.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Edie Sedgwick, film, glamour, haiku, It Girl, John Biscello, photo, poem, star, The Factory, warhol | Leave a comment

Riot’s Rake

Posted on March 17, 2018 by John Biscello

Grateful for Ashleigh Grycner’s review of Raking the Dust, which appears in the latest installment of Riot Material, and coincides with RTD’s April 3rd relaunch.

Raking the Dust, John Biscello’s masterful second novel, is first and foremost a novel about second chances. It’s about addiction, obsession, and ultimately, salvation. It’s about the fact that “all roads lead to Heaven,” and sometimes one needs to get lost in order to get found. That things at times need to get crazy, hairy, utterly confused before arriving face to face with that which we most fear. Ultimately, it is in the grip of our own terror that we find the courage to say the brave No that is a Yes to our own Innocence.

Read the full review here.

Posted in Books, Prose, Publications, Uncategorized | Tagged addiction, Ashleigh Grycner, dreams, John Biscello, love, novel, Publication, Raking the Dust, riot material, Surrealism, Taos, writing life | Leave a comment

Marguerite Duras

Posted on March 16, 2018 by John Biscello

Mapped, in glaring veins,

cut, to secrete lucid text–

Yes, love, I bleed light.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged author, blood, french, haiku, John Biscello, Light, lover, map, marguerite duras, poem, the lover, writer, writign life | Leave a comment

Candles

Posted on March 16, 2018 by John Biscello

One for each of us,

happy born-day, dear sister–

Beyond human reach.

(Artwork by Dorothea Tanning)

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Artwork, birthday, candles, dorothea tanning, haiku, home, John Biscello, Light, poem, sisters, surreal, tree | Leave a comment

Freeze

Posted on March 16, 2018 by John Biscello

Ice skating past dark,

on a frozen pond, alone–

Where they swam, last spring.

(Artwork by Mark Rothko)

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged abstract, black, Blue, freeze, haiku, John Biscello, love, lovers, Mark Rothko, mood, poem, pond, spring | Leave a comment

Moonman

Posted on March 16, 2018 by John Biscello

Moonman, when will you return?

The world has gone to trembling,

and scattered its once-proud feathers,

we are presently undergoing a plumage crisis

and are in dire need of luminous mending.

Your glyphic signature

remains in the palm of my hand,

remember,

so many moons ago,

when you branded it there,

and promised that you would return

when the time was the time,

and that was that, a cryptic response

which left me baffled.

I am still baffled

by so much,

but I continue to trust

that you will return

to usher in the next wave

of symbols and myths,

plus you’ll re-dress

us in new feathers,

and we, beyond skin and bones

and muscles, will become

the stuff of legend.

(Artwork by Paul Klee)

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged art, glyphs, John Biscello, legend, moonman, myth, paul klee, poem, symbols | Leave a comment

Edie

Posted on March 16, 2018 by John Biscello

Too many small hours

pimped out to wraiths on parade–

Heart, in real time, breaks.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged 1960s, Beauty, Edie Sedgwick, haiku, It Girl, John Biscello, poem, sadness, The Factory, tragedy, warhol | Leave a comment

Empirical scope,

is all that we ask of fame–

Steady now, steady.

(Photo of Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick)

The Red Balloon

of storybook legend,

after having reached its pinnacle

of fame,

decided to reinvent itself

as a crimson bauble

of a sun,

reigning supreme

over a private world

of geometry and symbols,

a realm

of pure spirit and play

where humans

hadn’t yet come

to exist

as agents of ruin.

(Artwork by Paul Klee)

Always a mother,

always gentle enclosure–

Between palms, mercy.

Make me an offer,

they shoot pretty girls, don’t they?

Leave haunting to me.

Grateful for Ashleigh Grycner’s review of Raking the Dust, which appears in the latest installment of Riot Material, and coincides with RTD’s April 3rd relaunch.

Read the full review here.

Mapped, in glaring veins,

cut, to secrete lucid text–

Yes, love, I bleed light.

One for each of us,

happy born-day, dear sister–

Beyond human reach.

(Artwork by Dorothea Tanning)

Ice skating past dark,

on a frozen pond, alone–

Where they swam, last spring.

(Artwork by Mark Rothko)

Moonman, when will you return?

The world has gone to trembling,

and scattered its once-proud feathers,

we are presently undergoing a plumage crisis

and are in dire need of luminous mending.

Your glyphic signature

remains in the palm of my hand,

remember,

so many moons ago,

when you branded it there,

and promised that you would return

when the time was the time,

and that was that, a cryptic response

which left me baffled.

I am still baffled

by so much,

but I continue to trust

that you will return

to usher in the next wave

of symbols and myths,

plus you’ll re-dress

us in new feathers,

and we, beyond skin and bones

and muscles, will become

the stuff of legend.

(Artwork by Paul Klee)

Too many small hours

pimped out to wraiths on parade–

Heart, in real time, breaks.

Archives

Meta

Categories