Tropic of Cancer

Posted on October 29, 2017 by John Biscello
tropic of cancer
To lance a staid form,
with crab-claws bent on rupture–
How masters shift course.
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Tramp

Posted on October 29, 2017 by John Biscello
trampy
Modeling tatters,
some masks cannot conceal truth–
the poor man’s Jesus.
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Tissue

Posted on October 27, 2017 by John Biscello
tissue
After her heart
fell to seed
for the first time,
the young girl wondered–
How many tissues
throughout mortal history
had been used
to absorb
the world’s weeping,
fragile, tenuous nets
for dreams that slip through?
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Three Musicians

Posted on October 27, 2017 by John Biscello
three musicians
To birth visual sound,
mortals shaped into music–
painter’s brush with fame.
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Thomas Wolfe

Posted on October 27, 2017 by John Biscello
Thomas
Locomotive-brained,
roar and let of angels blood–
Tracks vetting heaven.
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Stranger

Posted on October 27, 2017 by John Biscello
the_stranger_book_cover
I pressed against the sun,
slow lance of burning,
while the other, at a distance, watches–
benign indifference
the stranger’s claim
on his own life
passing

 

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Portal

Posted on October 27, 2017 by John Biscello
the anxious journey
Every portal
an incubator for change–
Time’s infinite jest.
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Praise

Posted on October 26, 2017 by John Biscello
Touch,
the inviolable charge
inciting rent ecstasy
between a bright siege of atoms,
you, me,
nameless,
humming,
conduits of praise.
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Pucker

Posted on October 26, 2017 by John Biscello
Pucker,
how love
concentrates itself
into the singular purpose
of tendering a kiss
to breathe Intimacy,
unfettered.
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Ravish

Posted on October 26, 2017 by John Biscello
Ripe,
the carnal skin
of an apple’s
flame-slipped
outer layer;
one bite,
one tear
with hungry nails,
intimating the measures
of ravish,
indebted to touch.
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