Tag Archives: John Biscello

Irregular Haiku for Presidential Timbre (Or, Damn It Feels Good to be a Tone Deaf Gangsta)

Posted on October 8, 2016 by John Biscello

His foot in his mouth, hand speaking in Pig Latin- Rab’em gay bitee ussy-pay.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Feral

Posted on October 7, 2016 by John Biscello

Seized, I am in the ripe feral grip of the new language she is speaking. Her voice fronting a glassy, ciphered edge, a grifting menace. Every calculated utterance bears double and triple meaning, with common intent to baffle, disarm, intrigue, … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Plaything

Posted on October 4, 2016 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 Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Corset

Posted on October 3, 2016 by John Biscello

In a vain attempt, she corseted herself in green wind and cellophane, votive to a thin whip of air. As she lay there, colors emptying to gray, before the round voices and fast hands came, she fell in and saw … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fret

Posted on September 28, 2016 by John Biscello

Incite, the heraldic crash of the ocean’s champagne fete, or, how the waves, lattice and white-maned, sire the sea’s cadent fret.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Spoor

Posted on September 28, 2016 by John Biscello

Hazarding a cede, to spoor feral shoots, or, Inspiration, a ward’s vigilant yield toward a mysterious charge.

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Sow

Posted on September 27, 2016 by John Biscello

Inviolate, the shallow impress of bird’s feet in snow, or, how love, in chronic yield, metes time to sow.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Toll

Posted on September 27, 2016 by John Biscello

Winter, tolling the climes of Grief’s wraith, or, how the feathers of first snow, falling, chasten the dead in lasting refrain.

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Climes

Posted on September 27, 2016 by John Biscello

Grief, engendering the climes of Winter’s wraith, or, how the sound of white fire, falling, in reverse, encloses the dead in penitent refrain.

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fetters

Posted on September 26, 2016 by John Biscello

Between worlds, the vetted reaping of Memory, where wings once brushed rash pink, or, how an angel, ennobling fetters, loses sleep to grievous mortal claims.

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment