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Meta
Tag Archives: John Biscello
Buddha’s Ninth Life
Fasting on patience, the cat became enlightened– No reason to leap.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged buddha, cat, enlightened feline, haiku, John Biscello, mexico, poem, walled out
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How Stones Love
Almost as if the stones, a bundle of prehistoric easter eggs, and petrified sweeps and flourishes of gondoliering motion, were modeling poetry, an implacable ode and incalculable sonnet to the sea, whose flagrant tempest, bound to strict meter, abrades the … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged ancient yet evernew, baja, John Biscello, mexico, poem, prehistory's unwritten pages, saline kisses, stones loving sea
9 Comments
Orpheus in Mexico
Wherever there is a time-scarred stone stairwell, there is the wandersick soul of Orpheus, forever walking backwards in search of his Eurydice, her heart the lost season in a hell of imagined distance.
It’s All Greek to Me
Katabasis, Greek for downgoing or descent– Orpheus, evinced.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged ancient, baja, erosion is lovely, greece is the word, haiku, John Biscello, mexico, stones sing
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Cinemagical
Running everywhere, wildly, excited to fill his bucket with moonlight, the young, eager disicple turned to his mentor and said, with a crushing sense of zealous overwhelm– But it’s everywhere! So so much yet none of it stays in the … Continue reading
Turning
After the deluge of pink, new rain softens earth– something’s got to give.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged how the earth turns, John Biscello, poem, soft soak, soil by any other name, when the rains come
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Sweet & Lowdown
“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”–Oscar Wilde In the beginning, guttersongs carved from starstuff– we got down with gods.
Cinema
In a starless sky, night hastens to remind us– Ghosts pass softly, fade.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged fade-in, fade-out, ghosts, haiku, John Biscello, night, poem, sky, Stars
5 Comments
Blowtorch Song
Sometimes I feel like a child who, recruited for catalytic growth, has been given a blowtorch to raze and plant the greenest seeds in a plot of earth, overlooking a bluff, where the silver-tongued sea meets immutable stone.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged alchemical reaction, blowtorch song, John Biscello, poem, the elements, the greenest seeds
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Fourteenth Night
When the gospel bites at your bones your skeleton dances the charged, hidden keys, and if music be the flood of soul, play on, as if dawn’s banquet were a set course.
John Biscello 