Tag Archives: dream

Snowflakes

Posted on November 8, 2017 by John Biscello

Dark holy silence, the fattest snowflakes are popes– no pulpit required.

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Sleet

Posted on November 7, 2017 by John Biscello

Scattered, like numinous sleet of commas, the faeries intimated bright shards of language, not yet discovered or long since forgotten.

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Braid

Posted on November 6, 2017 by John Biscello

How quickly we forget the nearness of grief, and remember, with rated thorns, a past nettled to braid.

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In my Solitude

Posted on November 4, 2017 by John Biscello

I, by entering my solitude more deeply, find you there, flagrant ember in the wordless dark, shining remnant of our love, unfettered.

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Riddle

Posted on November 4, 2017 by John Biscello

The small, dark, wet comma clefting our words, is the bated riddle of love on God’s silver tongue.

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Wait for Me

Posted on November 4, 2017 by John Biscello

There is no waiting, not really. Only bated suspension between commas, axles and imports; the spaces between lovers lie in fertile fields fed by small gods and nameless faeries who, by sacred squalls of weeping, consecrate the soil’s underlying reap. … Continue reading →

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Kiss

Posted on November 4, 2017 by John Biscello

Among the feathery downs of dark, and silvery quiet, I find you, time and again, the filigreed stem of a lush red rose, a night kiss sealing air in shuttered mourning.

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Ennoble

Posted on November 4, 2017 by John Biscello

By tenderest shoots, nuptials chance a star’s violet gleanings, Souls, in turn, twin to a greening grown true in hearts ennobling.

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Bask

Posted on November 4, 2017 by John Biscello

To perish, gently, in a siege of love, every last wildflower the smiling face of a memory, basking, as you cede to the cradle of warm dream.

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Star

Posted on November 4, 2017 by John Biscello

By solitude’s star, on any given night, a twinning may occur to praise phenomena, our bodies, alight, infused with never-ending gospel.

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