Tag Archives: Light

Milk & Angels

Posted on June 6, 2018 by John Biscello

Slotted between worlds, a living wake, whitefulness encroaching like a milkspreading cape of ocean, the requisite baffle and glare, It must be the angels riding in mounted on Mercy, you think, and you wait for them to turn the corner, … Continue reading →

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Lull

Posted on June 3, 2018 by John Biscello

Sometimes, even the light, in its radiant parry and thrust, needs to be laid down, in order to receive, openly, the starried lull of brokenness.

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Print

Posted on May 27, 2018 by John Biscello

We, the intermediaries, the gilded abeyance, between holy fire and dreamless wake, we, each and every one, corpuscles, tendered to print in God’s colossal palm.

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Intent

Posted on May 17, 2018 by John Biscello

Silence, the lighted bidding to know my own heart, to take a chance on every last fretted me I neglected to face, or boldly mention, to sow gaping closure with intent.  

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Tryst

Posted on May 6, 2018 by John Biscello

The last time I fornicated with an angel my porchlights blew and we became tranluscent sheets of merger rising above a glassy pool of chartreuse reflecting in cursive the lighted gist of our holy remains. God, I’m open to another … Continue reading →

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Palms

Posted on April 22, 2018 by John Biscello

Mercy Street runs lengthwise to the sun. Its soul, to orient, turns its nearest cheek to flaring palms.

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Lucy

Posted on April 22, 2018 by John Biscello

Renegade angel, pissing golden light, to be obscene not herded.

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Electric

Posted on April 22, 2018 by John Biscello

Trespass, skin on air, fornication with angels– Who turned the lights on?    

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Pour

Posted on April 15, 2018 by John Biscello

I get lost, looking, so much sky to soften course, so much light, slow poured.

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Fount

Posted on April 14, 2018 by John Biscello

I have heard her sing, lungs, founting with light, to braid dark hours into grace.

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