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Tag Archives: John Biscello
Creed
As soon as your pen makes first contact with the page you have done yourself the great and holy service of destroying that viral boogeyman, Perfection, which has buried far too many acts of expression and faith, a dream-life darkened … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged creation, creativity, creed, dreams, John Biscello, literary life, pen, perfection, poem, Poetry, ritual, self-expression, soul, spirit, writing, writing life
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Night Gallery
Posted in Artwork, Uncategorized
Tagged autumn, house, John Biscello, Light, lighted window, longing, night, nocturne, park, trees, window
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What Leaves May Come
Dance of the Shadow Leaves, a Triptych.
Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged autumn, door, house, John Biscello, leaves, Light, New Mexico, photo, shadow, Taos, triptych, visual
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Drum
Drum over me God, I am water under the bridge, threaded with silk and sewn with bones flowing, undammed, into the percussive folds of a liquid body, my name and past ceded to babbles of foam upon a colossal, quivering … Continue reading
Solitude #43
In my solitude, I have found myself wanting to shrink even further, into a speck of light, like lint from a star’s navel, or a velvety swath of dark absented from its tailored source; in my solitude, I long to … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged discovery, insular, John Biscello, love, Masks, nothingness, poem, Poetry, pulse, radiant, solitude
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Burn
The out of womb blues, torch song on code red alert– Slow burning for home.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged birth, blues, burning, death, dreams, existential, great sadness, home, John Biscello, love, pain, poem, Poetry, sorrow, womb, yearning
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Baby Romantics
Baby Byron didn’t yet have language, so he twisted and contorted his face into a mask, a distressed aria sounding his discomfort. That it was existential, and not hunger, thirst, tiredness, or physical pain, meant nothing to him. Without language … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged dreams, John Biscello, Lord byron, nursery, percy bysshe shelley, poem, Poetry, romanticism, The Romantics, william blake, william wordsworth
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Dive
Writer’s deep sea task, how to breathe underwater– Air of faith, no mask.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged air, dive, faith, haiku, John Biscello, literary life, ocean, poem, Poetry, scuba dive, sea, writer
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Cherish
Blossom, hue of vetted contradiction, between cherish and fade– Hours, like thorns, slow burn to chasten.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged Beauty, blosom, camellia, chasten, contradiction, flower, John Biscello, love, poem, Poetry, pure, white
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Many Ghosts
Many people in my life have been consumed by fiction. Fiction is a monster. Fiction is a glutton. Like ego, like an insatiable wrath, it never gets enough, is never satisfied. Fiction has consumed and absorbed many people in my … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged black and white, dreams, fiction, ghosts, haunt, haunting, I, John Biscello, love, passion, Prose, reality, storytelling, surreal, unreality
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John Biscello 