Tag Archives: dreams

Newsflash

Posted on August 11, 2022 by John Biscello

Heaven commits the meek to memory. Amnesia forgets itself to leaven the uninhibited rise of days lusting after dreams this side up.

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Blue Jukebox

Posted on August 2, 2022 by John Biscello

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 →

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Giantess

Posted on June 1, 2022 by John Biscello

Between bewildered, and the wildest seasons of time and longing, she derived dreamily the spatial pulse of God’s somnolent core.

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Stop Motion

Posted on May 25, 2022 by John Biscello

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 →

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Shadow Play

Posted on May 25, 2022 by John Biscello

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 →

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Impermanence

Posted on May 25, 2022 by John Biscello

From the Notebooks of Andre Macon Andrei Tarkovsky, diary entry, 1979: Reread Castaneda’s The Lessons of Don Juan. A marvelous book, and very true because— The world is not all as it appears to us. Under certain conditions it could … Continue reading →

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What Lonely Places

Posted on May 25, 2022 by John Biscello

An Algonquin legend describes the wendigo as a “giant with a heart of ice. Sometimes it was thought to be entirely made of ice. Its body is skeletal and deformed, with missing lips and toes.”The Algonquin people claimed that during … Continue reading →

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In Dreams Begin First Person

Posted on May 23, 2022 by John Biscello

I am running.It feels like I’ve been running for a long time.I want to turn around and look behind me but my neck is locked into place.So I can’t see who or what is chasing me, but I know it’s … Continue reading →

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Speakeasy

Posted on April 16, 2021 by John Biscello

Dreams are like speakeasies for the soul. A secret password so you can enter, unchecked moral boundaries allowing you to trespass and indulge freely in the vagrant and illicit, after hours pressing of bootleg vinyl that places scorched scarabs in … Continue reading →

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Housewarming

Posted on December 1, 2020 by John Biscello

“The already human being in whom I had sought shelter for my body yielded nothing to the storm. The house clung close to me, like a she-wolf, and at times, I could smell her odor penetrating maternally to my very … Continue reading →

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