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Tag Archives: ghosts
Wonder
Each spring they return, bound to renew small wonders– Innocent by turns. (Artwork by Izumi Yokoyama) Advertisements
Jean Rhys at Twilight
Nutrition fact: Did you know that windows like to eat writers who diet on silence and dust-motes, they swallow the writers whole, or in fragments, devouring them slowly, ever so slowly, until all that remains is a ghost, where a … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged dreams, ghosts, haunt, Jean Rhys, John Biscello, nutrition, poem, Poetry, silence, twilight, window, writer, writing life
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Hallway
This could be titled John Biscello Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, could be titled Romancing the Ghosts, or perhaps no title at all, just a flickering reminiscence trapped in a photo snapped by a childhood friend who swears that he occasionally … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged 1741, 62nd street, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, childhood, friend, ghosts, hallway, house, John Biscello, memory, photo, play, poem, the past
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Recoil
The weddings didn’t come off, for either one. Limbo, reciting their grief, and frozen recoil, held them aloft, sisters annointed by a rogue strain of etheric default. (Artwork by Linda Stojak)
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged brides, ghosts, haunting, John Biscello, linda stojak, painting, poem, Poetry, recoil, red, sisters, white
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Paper Trail
Completed draft of my new novel, No Man’s Brooklyn. A return to childhood, to the source of ghosts, to Brooklyn roots.
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged book, childhood, completion, draft, dysfunction, family, ghosts, John Biscello, literature, love, no man's brooklyn, novel, Prose, story
3 Comments
Digging in the Dirt
The episode played and we laughed at the scenes and punchlines we had seen and heard at least a hundred times. Our laughter was tracked on a loop, because no matter how many times we saw it, always Ralph … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged age, anya, Brooklyn, childhood, family, father, ghosts, John Biscello, no man's brooklyn, novel, Prose, son
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Unreaching Anya
Anya I long to reach you only because I know that you are unreachable. It keeps my longing in a chrysalis state, a cocoon state. Nothing ever grows, it simply hums and palpitates and aspires toward growth. It is the … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged anya, Brooklyn, devotion, dream, ghosts, haunted, John Biscello, love, no man's brooklyn, Prose, reality, romance, story, writing
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Measure
A sense of removal raveled in intimacy and ghostly union, a sense of closeness achieved on the periphery where fools dance an impossible jig to fulfill absence.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged art, closeness, creativity, dance, dream, ghosts, intimacy, jig, John Biscello, measure, poem, words
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Unreachable You
It’s tough to always be in love with a ghost. Also it’s easy. The living don’t stand a chance against ghosts. In loving ghosts there are no real complications, no real disappointments, no real anything. There’s lots of teething on … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged boy, deathy, devotion, dreams, ghosts, girl, illusions, John Biscello, life, loe, novel, obsession, Prose, story, torch song
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Wendigo, a Winter Story
A man in a bulky white parka is running across a snowy landscape. The hood pulled over his head is lined with seal-gray fur. He is wearing plastic goggles that are caked in frost. … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged ghosts, grief, ice, John Biscello, love, melancholy, Prose, sadness, snow, sorrow, story, wendigo, Winter
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