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Meta
Tag Archives: John Biscello
William Faulkner
Moon turning blood-red, tides roiling, writer signs crosses to stand Time’s test, sound and fury bridled through carnal lightning and soil of pen.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged crosses, genius, gothic, John Biscello, lightning, Literary, literature, lyricism, pen, poem, Poetry, script, sound and the fury, southern, time, timeless, william faulkner
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Owl
White owl, I sometimes wonder if you are an ancient, forgotten breed of swan plumped up on moonlight and mice, elegant dancer’s neck morphed into a tufty bulb, purveying the hidden wisdom of dark woods and underworld flights sourced to … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged bird, John Biscello, messenger, moon, moonlight, nocturnal, omen, owl, poem, Poetry, sight, swan, totem, underworld, vision, white owl
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Kissing
She told me, and I quote: “As a pagan-gnostic-pop-mystic, my religion is kissing– the ground, stones, twigs, children’s nubby fingers, hems of clothing, mouths.” To prove her word devout, she kissed me on the lips, then deeper, and I received … Continue reading
Tongue
Celibacy upon the vulvic tongue, that faun purveyor of irreverent pink and solvent hymns, is a joyless sin against primordial yearnings, the Earth composes itself in mineral rhymes and licentious heavings, and so the tongue, caked in sensuous resin, divines … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged anatomy, body, earth, earthy, erotic, hymn, John Biscello, licentious, lust, pan, poem, Poetry, sensuality, sex, sin, tongue, yearning
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Drizzle
Listen raptly to the furls of drizzle pecking upon thin glass, and you will come to know how close dreams are to trespassing rare intimacy upon closed worlds and distances.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged Beauty, bliss, devotion, distance, dreams, drizzle, inspiration, intimacy, John Biscello, joy, love, passion, poem, Poetry, rain, sadness, sorrow
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Birds
By whirling reams of papered birds, the writer’s flights, short-lived, earn the keep of dreams daringly emptied.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged art, birds, dreams, expression, flight, John Biscello, Literary, love, paper, passion, poem, Poetry, writers, writing, writing life
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Charred
I was there, nameless gluttony of charged particles, when the dream-trees were felled by alabaster whorls of lightning. From the siege I salvaged a charred branch, which became my staff, my walking stick, and I began to wander in search … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged devotion, dream-trees, gnostic, Hermit, invocation, John Biscello, lightning, love, mystic, mysticism, nature, particles, poem, Poetry, trees, wanderer
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Sleet
Scattered, like numinous sleet of commas, the faeries intimated bright shards of language, not yet discovered or long since forgotten.
Awe
To walk in fields of blue lightning, to see with a child’s snow-driven eyes, is to receive awe and grace; the tasseled forks of God’s split tongues and blonde fuzzies coercing you to savor.
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
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John Biscello 