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Meta
Tag Archives: dust
Dust
Posted in Audio, photography, Poetry, Prose
Tagged Audio, dust, myth, Spoken Word, story, today, voice, words
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Our Lady of Dust
Posted in Audio, photography, Poetry, Prose
Tagged Audio, dust, myth, red desert, Spoken Word, story, text, words
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Our Lady of Dust
They taught us dust. Those were our lessons. There were other lessons but allegedly none more important than the lessons in dust the sermons. We dreamed dust. We ate dust. There was dust favoring the sunlight insisting upon the rotting … Continue reading
Breathing Lessons
In school they taught us how to breathe differently. There were other lessons but this was considered the most important one. We had to learn a new way of breathing. Techniques, exercises: what to do, what not to do. They … Continue reading
Posted in Artwork, photography, Poetry, Prose
Tagged breathing, dust, photography, Prose, school, words
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Scratch
Once upon a time before people were monsters. When people didn’t eat each other. Out here we’ve got to be careful. I defected. I became fugitive singular. I defected from plural, from we. I defected so as to claim I … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged calamity jane, dust, fragment, i and we, Prose, sad dust days, singular pronoun, the road
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Dust in the Wind
Much here is caked in dust. Dust-skinned dogs and dust-skinned horses. Dust-coated houses in ruin, the staccato of ruins, the oldlife song of decay, dreams move sluggishly here at the pace of dust, the swirling eddies of dust, dust in … Continue reading
Girl on a Bike
I bike through the swirling dust. The dust pinches my skin. The dust is cinematic. It seems, nowadays, everything is cinematic. Novels, TV, reality, cinema … dust. We have become cinemanesthasized. We are in a trance. How long will … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged apocalypse, Cinema, dust, fragment, girl on a bike, Prose, riding, trance
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Ashes to Ashes
Out of the ash-heap, she imagined something new would emerge, but when the wind blew and scattered the ashes to reveal nothing but scorch-marks upon scarred earth, she understood, with a great sense of loss, that form followed function only … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged ashes, dust, faith, John Biscello, life, phoenix, poem, Poetry, rebirth, spirit, wind, woman
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Smoke
Consider the hours, consecrated puffs of smoke shot through with dusty light.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged bottle, death, dust, hours, John Biscello, josef sudek, life, Light, photography, pipe, poem, Poetry, prague, smoke, time
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John Biscello 