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Meta
Tag Archives: dreams
Springing Forth
As I sit here at my retreat enclave, feeling gratefully reflective and enjoying buttery afterglow effects, today in looking back through my records I realized: the three novels I have completed over the past three years–The Last Furies, No One … Continue reading
Posted in Books, photography, Poetry, Prose
Tagged alchemy, bop, bowie, dreams, Prose, reflections, shift happens, the writing life
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Here There Be Tigers
Posted in Artwork, Audio, photography, Poetry, Prose
Tagged dreams, Poetry, Prose, Spoken Word, tiger spirit, words
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Woven
In the beginning the dreaming not the word. The word came later. It came whenever and betrayed silence and this was the beginning of fiction. Now you’ve got what passes for a world of dreaming of fiction and parallels splintered … Continue reading
Here There Be Dream Tigers
Here we are hooded in shadows with tigers green fire eyes lighting up new seasons. Tigers green fire eyes the forests of emeralds burning of bedazzlement and jade bewitching. We enter calmly at our own risk. We heard that one … Continue reading
Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Prose
Tagged abstract, dreams, forests, imagination, Mark Rothko, myth, story, tigers, words
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Newsflash
Heaven commits the meek to memory. Amnesia forgets itself to leaven the uninhibited rise of days lusting after dreams this side up.
Blue Jukebox
She passed through the beads dangling in the doorway. Echoes of beads rattling, like glassy cricket bones crunched, her moving forward, stopping at the counter, men’s heads turning, as if on rubbery swivels, none say a word, wordless the men … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged cantina, dreams, fragment, halluncinations, jukebox, melancholy, music, Prose, sadness
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Giantess
Between bewildered, and the wildest seasons of time and longing, she derived dreamily the spatial pulse of God’s somnolent core.
Stop Motion
She stood on the podium, beaming, and began waving to everyone in slow motion. Her hand glided right to left, left to right, a panoramic benediction that didn’t miss a single soul. The bouquet tucked near her bosom exuded a … Continue reading
Posted in Books, photography, Prose
Tagged dreams, excerpt, in the shadows, mystery, no one dreams in color, noir, sex
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Shadow Play
I saw her again the other night and I followed her. This time she had green eyes and copper hair. I wanted to ask her about that night, what happened between us, had it meant anything, and if so what, … Continue reading
Posted in Books, photography, Prose
Tagged dreams, excerpt, no one dreams in color, noir, novel, obsession, shadows
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John Biscello 