Tag Archives: dreaming

The Search (In Six Parts)

Posted on September 29, 2026 by John Biscello

1. It has been a long, fruitless, and exhaustive search. Finding the dreamer who is dreaming you is damned near impossible. He or she or it is in there somewhere. In where, exactly? In where is the birthplace of existential … Continue reading →

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Runway for Taxi Dancers

Posted on September 24, 2026 by John Biscello
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Waltz

Posted on September 21, 2026 by John Biscello

In the latent vernacular and trespass of mind-breaths spanning space-time, crystallized as rapt intimacies and wax seal giving the dreaming-voice its human due and proof of residence, we scratch in lost measure– I Wuz Here– followed by the fading tracks … Continue reading →

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Domain

Posted on April 20, 2026 by John Biscello

In the latent vernacular of gist— mind breaths in space time crystallized as rapt intimacies give the dreaming voice its human due and proof of residence— Fading tracks the ghostly course of diminishing returns within a poem’s lasting domain and … Continue reading →

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Talisman

Posted on December 4, 2025 by John Biscello

Wordwise, edges and ledges: we are falling off. We, as in word-wielding also world-wearied, we, an endangered species, parrots with branded larynxes … falling off. Ask a stranger to cup your balls (male or female you, no matter) as you … Continue reading →

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Metrics

Posted on November 20, 2025 by John Biscello

Dust is time’s response to dreaming. Dreams–desolate, unmade, spectral—wafting as winds carry out the ceremonial twitch of pallbearing.

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Fool’s Play

Posted on April 4, 2025 by John Biscello

The lighted lot and plight of fools is dancing an inspired jig, duly possessed, at cliff’s edge, in tuning for an epic plunge into the necessary unknown, or, sacred is as sacred does, when testing talismanic runes against gravity’s proof … Continue reading →

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Notes in Passing

Posted on February 28, 2024 by John Biscello

The old man in the blue hat, short-sleeve white shirt, gray pants, blue sneakers, seated on a canvas folding chair staked on a plot of grass, the old man’s elected vantage point from which to enjoy his beer and watch … Continue reading →

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Transit

Posted on February 28, 2024 by John Biscello

No words to describe this passing sense, here now gone— Dreaming in real-time.  

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Portrait

Posted on February 28, 2024 by John Biscello

In the hospitable equation of a bicycle, lighted doors and people we cannot see, a hypnogogic nocturne forms of its own accord, begetting incalculable solitude and lore to the trespasses of dreaming.

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