Tag Archives: cosmos

Process and Zeitgeist

Posted on November 6, 2025 by John Biscello

It was what Crowfeather called the Blue Star ceremony, or Above Air ceremony. It took place on Winter Solstice 2020. It wad during the enigmatic, unsettling and ominous period of COVID, the virus that was upsetting the balance of the … Continue reading →

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Origin Story

Posted on January 17, 2025 by John Biscello

Rending the cosmos,to midwife its own star-seed,to papoose night-bloom. (Artwork by Izumi Yokoyama)

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Year of the Snake

Posted on January 17, 2025 by John Biscello

Night swallowing itsown tale of snake swallowingits own tail of night. (Artwork by Izumi Yokoyama)

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Blue Star trilogy

Posted on August 30, 2024 by John Biscello

After completing my most recent novel, Worlds Last Imagined, it, along with two other novels–No One Dreams in Color and None So Distant–comprise what I’m calling my Blue Star trilogy (2020-2024). The blue star reference pertains, at least in its … Continue reading →

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Station

Posted on February 21, 2024 by John Biscello

Historyless is where I come from, the sun-crotched navel, the part of me not yet born, the part of me dead to the world on its way to being born into the potholes and foothills of unimagined fictions. That, plus … Continue reading →

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Full Moon Rising

Posted on December 21, 2021 by John Biscello

Howling, to contract space for deeper emptying, to swallow moons whole.

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Posted on June 8, 2021 by John Biscello

Cosmic Lay Slick astronomy, moonlight drips between her thighs– The lay of space, mine.

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Cosmos

Posted on December 30, 2020 by John Biscello

To have an open dialogue with the cosmos through a sensitive antenna of a flower with lavender petals crowning my head was something I used to scoff at or dismiss. And now? I am a gardener, tilling seeds of moonlight … Continue reading →

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She Weeps

Posted on November 11, 2020 by John Biscello

Victory is the epilogue to squabble. And its prelude too. That is, when your bayonet plunges into the ribcage or spleen of another version of you, the moon weeps slow silver rivers of tears, unconsoled by the glitteringly indifferent stars, … Continue reading →

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Words, Silence, Music

Posted on November 10, 2020 by John Biscello

“Therefore, speak, speak at any price, say no matter what, since all words have equal value and all say the same thing, all repeat tirelessly the same call for help.” — Samuel Beckett If we are to take Mister Beckett … Continue reading →

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