Tag Archives: Artwork

Music

Posted on March 9, 2018 by John Biscello

To listen with eyes, in a forest of deep blue– Music spiring dreams. (Image by Christian Marclay)

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Artwork, Blue, christian marclay, cyanotype, dream, forest, John Biscello, music, poem, Poetry, sound, synesthesia | Leave a comment

Georgia

Posted on March 5, 2018 by John Biscello

The fingers, shroud and baffling, in temper and Sphinx, the hands, workmanlike, choreographing majesty in sync with the eyes which saw and praised, in rapture, the inner lives of flowers. (Photo by Alfred Steiglitz)

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged alfred stieglitz, artist, Artwork, fingers, flowers, Georgia O' Keefe, hands, John Biscello, photo, photography, poem, Poetry | Leave a comment

Cubist Pin-Up

Posted on January 30, 2018 by John Biscello

Psychically dismembered since birth, Grace walked her palms to her feet, and prayed that everything lost, in between, would return ritually transfigured.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Artwork, cubist, grace, John Biscello, pin-up, poem, Poetry, prayer, rebirth, ritual | Leave a comment

Dark

Posted on December 16, 2017 by John Biscello

I. I have begun to name and catalogue the different types of dark. It helps. Warm-dark, cave-dark, void-dark, womb-dark, sleep-dark, Eros-dark, blank-dark, siege-dark, and there is the anonymous dark that gets in your head and behind your eyes and in … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Artwork, black, black painting, boxes, Cy Twombly, dark, John Biscello, painting, poem, Poetry | 2 Comments

Dance

Posted on December 16, 2017 by John Biscello

I get so sleepy and restless and roiled and charged. If only they knew what they called world was simply a clusterfuck of particles dreaming of dance partners.

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Artwork, dance, dream, Gustav Klimt, John Biscello, painting, particles, poem, Poetry, sleep, Stars, woman | Leave a comment

Deluge

Posted on December 15, 2017 by John Biscello

It is both pleasure, and an epitaph to pleasure, at the same time. When the phenomena occurs and the colors run and slash and slit down upon me in ravels of deluge. Spring-green, shell-pink, sky-blue, bled-red, egg-heaven, grief-yellow. I, a … Continue reading →