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Tag Archives: childhood
Fever
I haven’t been sick like this since I was six or maybe nine that deceptively mild hazily pleasant heartbleating ache and motherseek fever that takes you to that tender place of breezy white flags and euphoric yield and there, you, … Continue reading
First, Lasting
In the shrine that we build for first kisses, lies the furloughed still-warm lips of Childhood’s ghosts, forever puckering to seal love, airtight in its untold lore and claim to rose.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged childhood, dream, ghosts, John Biscello, lips, love, rose, tenderness
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Fly Now, Pray Later
For a subliminal time only it’s here Neverland’s lucid New Romanticism replete with pricks, needles and pines bespeaking Pagan Renaissance Nouveau a movement that will start in your vowels and end in your Oh’s especially suggested for those soft in … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged childhood, dreams, Heaven, John Biscello, neverland, poem, renaissance, romanticisim, soul, spirit
1 Comment
Childhood’s Wake
You can feel it in the air, a razory sheen, all the childhoods that were lost or stolen or seized or buried to model catacombs and secret lairs, are returning to the surface bigtime, the reclaimants growing new teeth and … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged Beauty, childhood, John Biscello, love, mysticism, poem, rebirth, self-expression, soul, spirit, what dreams may come
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Marvel
As a child, the thinnest greenest wisps of air held tiny totemic figures of me, carved from sheer terror, aloft, and I pretended, o how I pretended to be the biggest strongest bravest boldest of them all, a clown-saint crossing … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged childhood, circus, courage, dream, family, fantasy, fear, imagination, John Biscello, poem, spirit
2 Comments
Pearl
Drowned at a young age, angel to a sunken arc– find her pearl-diving.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged angel, childhood, dive, ghost, girl, hurt, John Biscello, pearl, poemm haiku, resurrection, sea, wreck
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Hallway
This could be titled John Biscello Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, could be titled Romancing the Ghosts, or perhaps no title at all, just a flickering reminiscence trapped in a photo snapped by a childhood friend who swears that he occasionally … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged 1741, 62nd street, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, childhood, friend, ghosts, hallway, house, John Biscello, memory, photo, play, poem, the past
1 Comment
Doll
She keeps strict vigil over Childhood in action, every fragrance and nuance, every lost tooth and blown-out birthday candle, every romp in the grass and Goliath slain, she keeps conscious watch, so later, when the box and the dark come … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged child, childhood, devotion, doll, girl, John Biscello, love, playmate, poem, Poetry, real, toy
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Paper Trail
Completed draft of my new novel, No Man’s Brooklyn. A return to childhood, to the source of ghosts, to Brooklyn roots.
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged book, childhood, completion, draft, dysfunction, family, ghosts, John Biscello, literature, love, no man's brooklyn, novel, Prose, story
3 Comments
Super Hero
(Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn.) I was six when I found out I’d never become a superhero. We were in the kitchen. Me, my mother, and father. My father’s hand was around my mother’s throat. He had a … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged Brooklyn, childhood, dysfunction, family, fear, John Biscello, no man's brooklyn, novel, Prose, story, super-hero
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