Tag Archives: Heaven

Furls

Posted on December 31, 2017 by John Biscello

Feted, by an angel’s glassy hands, slow-burning river of sound, pooling white fire in rounded furls.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged angel, burning, fire, glass, hands, Heaven, John Biscello, Light, love, poem, river, sound, white fire | Leave a comment

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 →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged black and white, dream, epitaph, Heaven, John Biscello, love, photo, plaything, Poetry, rumor, spirit, surreal | Leave a comment

Godot Vs. God

Posted on December 15, 2017 by John Biscello

In Godot’s waiting room, Heaven-rent, the vacancy sign had been converted into a living epitaph for people choking on bated breath: Here tomorrow, gone today.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged breath, eternity, God, Godot, Heaven, John Biscello, poem, Poetry, rent, samuel beckett, today, tomorrow, waiting | Leave a comment

Sober Judge

Posted on December 13, 2017 by John Biscello

Dylan Thomas falls from his barstool in Heaven— God, tending bar, picks him up, turns to Job—Who am I to judge?

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged bar, barstool, celestial, drinking, Dylan Thomas, God, Heaven, Job, John Biscello, poem, poet | Leave a comment

Missive

Posted on December 13, 2017 by John Biscello

Flown, without feathers, an unrelenting missive engaging remote hints and near heaven

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged feathers, flying, Heaven, John Biscello, missive, poem, Poetry, spirit | Leave a comment

Wish

Posted on November 9, 2017 by John Biscello

Floating syllables, woolen sheafs of memory– Heaven’s lent ear, toned.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged cloud, Heaven, John Biscello, message, poem, Poetry, wish, Wish Piece III, wishes, yoko ono | Leave a comment

Hermit

Posted on November 6, 2017 by John Biscello

Hermit, of singed tassels, have you raised hell quietly deeply within, to better discern and negotiate the holy seethe of flames? Have your voices, and their cold blue chains, grown numinous through years of patient greening? Hermit, how wonderful that … Continue reading →