Tag Archives: epitaph

Epilogue

Posted on December 3, 2025 by John Biscello

We are ghosts haunting our own lives, understanding on the deepest level that there is no beginning and no end. Because we know that, or in spite of knowing that, we wander, we stalk, we pursue. We give names and … Continue reading →

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Plot

Posted on September 4, 2025 by John Biscello

Yesterday I buried my mother. Two mothers. Maybe three, or four. I have had many mothers in the small hours of this modest and shrinking life. All of my mothers are tassels of foam threading mighty surf. All of my … Continue reading →

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Devotional

Posted on June 19, 2018 by John Biscello

Remember me to the ease of light, its pause and passage, we are not long for this earth, which swallows us, and our lovetagged bones, as a matter of natural course and radical recomposition, all the gifts, and hopes unwound … Continue reading →

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Intraverse

Posted on April 29, 2018 by John Biscello

(Intraverse, Epitaph for a Beginning is a 24-part poem, which will be included in my collection Arclight. I wanted to present it here, uncut, for those who enjoy swallowing their jagged metaphysical fragments whole.) 1. Bidden by tatters, and gravity’s mutable … Continue reading →

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No Dominion

Posted on March 29, 2018 by John Biscello

It was about time, epitaph planned in advance– Will you dance with me?

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Unfinished

Posted on December 18, 2017 by John Biscello

There is an epitaph marking the life we have lived from the ones we have not. This is where I begin to separate the words from their cause, running on, unfinished, end to start.

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Plaything

Posted on December 18, 2017 by John Biscello

Wafting from afar, the intimate rumor of a divine toy, a cryptic plaything, implications in tow. A tonic and pacifier of blank rages; buoy and anti-freeze to sudden plunges into sub-zero climate. These conditions cannot be bested, but they can … Continue reading →

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Ghost

Posted on November 2, 2017 by John Biscello

Classic ghost story, you have haunted your own life– No man’s epitaph.  

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Deluge

Posted on October 8, 2016 by John Biscello

It is both pleasure, and an epitaph to pleasure, at the same time. When the phenomena occurs and the colors run and slash and slit down upon me in ravels of deluge. Spring-green, shell-pink, sky-blue, bled-red, egg-heaven, grief-yellow. I, a … Continue reading →

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Feral

Posted on October 7, 2016 by John Biscello

Seized, I am in the ripe feral grip of the new language she is speaking. Her voice fronting a glassy, ciphered edge, a grifting menace. Every calculated utterance bears double and triple meaning, with common intent to baffle, disarm, intrigue, … Continue reading →

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