Tag Archives: doll

Currency

Posted on October 16, 2023 by John Biscello

From the series, Japan Poems. The value of grief and mercy intersecting where metaphors are left behind to green and thrive and assume the tendered form of a lonely doll wide-eyed in its longing to touch the ruptured pinwheel the … Continue reading →

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged buddha, doll, forest, headstone, japan, pinwheel, poem, sado island, shrine | Leave a comment

Where on Earth

Posted on October 13, 2022 by John Biscello

Nineteen rifles and the village was burned to the ground there were nineteen rifles stolen by rebels and then came the awful burning down what was called scorched earth policy. My mother my father my brother were burned down to … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged doll, grief, living and dead, medium, Poetry, Prose, story, tragedy, village, where on earth | Leave a comment

I’m Here

Posted on March 6, 2018 by John Biscello

Day after day after day modeling ripe, fugitive blankness, to the siege of passers-by who smiled sweetly and pointed at the coat, the dress, the bow, yet none of them saw what wasn’t blatantly advertised, the age-old curse which kept … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged blank, children's store, doll, fashion, image, John Biscello, mannequin, New Mexico, perception, poem, Poetry, store, Taos | Leave a comment

Doll

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

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 | Leave a comment

Playground

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

In the end, as in the beginning, we shall find that the whole cyclical shebanga was a mischievous riot, a fool’s paradise of child’s play upon fluorescent plasma, or to parrot the enlightened pearls of Mister Voltaire, “God is a … Continue reading →