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Meta
Tag Archives: death
Apocalypse Now and Again
Posted in Audio, photography, Poetry, Prose
Tagged apocalypse, death, endings, Poetry, Prose, Spoken Word, text
3 Comments
Time Enough At Last
Time, the sound of time racing through our ears, slipping past us, children’s bicycles the sound of brrrrrringgg brrrrrringggg, bells on bicycles brrrrrringgging, and the children become more or less old then more or less dead and we hold funerals … Continue reading
Death Rides In On A Pony
When Death showed up on a broken-down pony, I scoffed. This, really? What, Death said, looking around, unsure as to who or what I was referring. You’re Death, right? Yes. THE Death? You can check my I.D. And you’ve come … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged death, dialogue between death and me, hobbyhorses and ponies, John Biscello, mysterious ways, Prose
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Reckon
You, true to your own scythe, perpetrate with fierce love, small necessary deaths, you, whispering sweet winged words of encouragement to your reaper, Hurry now, slowly, and bless my broken softly, bless every last ghost through the numinous host of … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged death, John Biscello, life, love, poem, reaper, resurrection, self
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No Dominion
It was about time, epitaph planned in advance– Will you dance with me?
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged dance, death, Dylan Thomas, epitaph, gallow's humor, grave, haiku, immortality, John Biscello, life, poem
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Mercy
She, unmoving, has remained the same for millennia, mercy on a tether. As for the tombs, the plots, the names engraved on headstones, those are always different, change, the truest source of sorrow replenished.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged angel of mercy, angel of sorrow, dead, death, grave, John Biscello, love, mercy, names, poem, Poetry, tombstone, weeping
1 Comment
Bonepick
I tell myself stories in the dark, Anya. Whether or not they help is either of primary consequence or none at all. Sometimes you have to walk through the boneyard in order to reach the garden. This what I tell … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged anya, Beauty, bones, Brooklyn, death, garden, John Biscello, love, no man's brooklyn, novel, rebirth, romance, story
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Solstice
On the day the Trickster died in vain Winter set in to consecrate its crucifix and initiate the changing of seasons.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged coyote, death, fence, God, John Biscello, nature, New Mexico, poem, Poetry, snow, Taos, Trickster, Winter
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2-Sentence Horror Story
Will you marry me, and promise to be mine forever and ever? Yes, she agreed, one foot in the grave, the other scraping forward.
Corset
In a vain attempt, she corseted herself in green wind and cellophane, votive to a thin whip of air. As she lay there, colors emptying to gray, before the round voices and fast hands came, she fell in and saw … Continue reading
John Biscello 