-
Archives
- February 2026
- January 2026
- December 2025
- November 2025
- October 2025
- September 2025
- August 2025
- July 2025
- June 2025
- May 2025
- April 2025
- March 2025
- February 2025
- January 2025
- November 2024
- October 2024
- September 2024
- August 2024
- July 2024
- June 2024
- May 2024
- April 2024
- February 2024
- January 2024
- December 2023
- November 2023
- October 2023
- September 2023
- August 2023
- May 2023
- March 2023
- February 2023
- January 2023
- December 2022
- November 2022
- October 2022
- September 2022
- August 2022
- July 2022
- June 2022
- May 2022
- April 2022
- March 2022
- January 2022
- December 2021
- November 2021
- October 2021
- September 2021
- August 2021
- July 2021
- June 2021
- May 2021
- April 2021
- March 2021
- February 2021
- January 2021
- December 2020
- November 2020
- October 2020
- September 2020
- August 2020
- July 2020
- June 2020
- May 2020
- April 2020
- March 2020
- February 2020
- January 2020
- December 2019
- November 2019
- October 2019
- September 2019
- August 2019
- July 2019
- June 2019
- May 2019
- April 2019
- March 2019
- February 2019
- January 2019
- December 2018
- November 2018
- October 2018
- September 2018
- August 2018
- July 2018
- June 2018
- May 2018
- April 2018
- March 2018
- February 2018
- January 2018
- December 2017
- November 2017
- October 2017
- September 2017
- August 2017
- July 2017
- June 2017
- May 2017
- April 2017
- March 2017
- February 2017
- January 2017
- December 2016
- November 2016
- October 2016
- September 2016
- August 2016
- July 2016
- June 2016
- May 2016
- April 2016
- March 2016
-
Meta
Tag Archives: grief
Bench
You know the story, the bench, the promise, the waiting, the interminable stretch of waiting, and the love that never returned, as the girl became a woman and then dead. You know the legend, how the woman is still waiting, … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged bench, grass, grief, John Biscello, loss, love, man, park, poem, Poetry, romance, Taos, tennis court, tragedy, woman
Leave a comment
Gravesite
My father and I visited my mother’s grave. Nothing about it felt profound or moving. It felt like a prescribed exercise in courtesy, a bland ritual. One thing that gave it a dramatic feel: it was raining. … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged anya, Brooklyn, cemetery, father, gravesite, grief, John Biscello, mother, mourning, no man's brooklyn, novel, son
Leave a comment
Darking Anya
Remember when we were kids and we’d sometimes have sleepovers and listen to the dark together? That’s what you called it, Anya, listening to the dark. Sometimes we’d pretend to be camping. We’d make a tent on my bedroom … Continue reading
Of Time and the River
One thing we cannot recover is time. Perhaps that’s what I have been trying to do. Perhaps that’s what every writer, as a fugitive stalker, as a heartsick orphan, as the fool-hero in their own movie is … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged amen, art, creation, creativity, dreams, grief, Heaven, John Biscello, life, Light, love, mortality, mourning, praise, Prose, self-expression, shadow, story, writing
Leave a comment
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
Leave a comment
Dam
She swallows stones, or is made to—what feels like a martyred plunge of boulders. I am, by proxy, crushed. Is this what is meant by god-dam? The circulatory flush of light to dark dammed, and no god gets in … Continue reading
Pigtails
There was that day you wore your hair in pigtails. You were thirteen. Pigtails and a pale blue summer dress. I think the dress was new. My mother had died three days earlier. You and I … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged Benhonhurst, Brooklyn, friends, girl, grief, John Biscello, love, mourning, pathos, pigtails, Prose, stoop, story, summer
Leave a comment
Braid
How quickly we forget the nearness of grief, and remember, with rated thorns, a past nettled to braid.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged ache, dream, grief, heartbreak, John Biscello, nettled, pain, past, poem, Poetry, rose, thorns
Leave a comment
Rare
This is how I grieve– words, pearlescent to glean, and bare, poured, like so much light, on petals bruised by touch and Beauty rare.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged Beauty, flower, grief, John Biscello, love, pearlescent, petals, poem, Poetry, sadness, sorrow, tears, touch, weeping, words, writing
Leave a comment
Bask
To perish, gently, in a siege of love, every last wildflower the smiling face of a memory, basking, as you cede to the cradle of warm dream.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged bask, dream, gentle, grief, John Biscello, Light, love, love poem, memory, Poetry, symmetry, tender, wildflower
Leave a comment
John Biscello 