Tag Archives: Light

In Praise of Dark and Light

Posted on November 5, 2017 by John Biscello

Everyone’s dark is coming up and it isn’t going to be pretty, as well it shouldn’t be. Beauty, as a rugged force, as thorny swaths of dream-thistles, blooms through night-fasting, and respiring enclosures of dark. Beauty marks the hidden faith … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged brave new world, courage, creativity, dark, dawn, dreams, epic, faith, gospel, heart, John Biscello, Light, Literary, love, love poem, Poetry, praise, songs, sovereignty | 1 Comment

Bask

Posted on November 4, 2017 by John Biscello

To perish, gently, in a siege of love, every last wildflower the smiling face of a memory, basking, as you cede to the cradle of warm dream.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged bask, dream, gentle, grief, John Biscello, Light, love, love poem, memory, Poetry, symmetry, tender, wildflower | Leave a comment

Crescendo

Posted on October 26, 2017 by John Biscello

What about the rough, thorny grace of angels locked in love-play, the traceless sex of light piercing light, scaling an impossible crescendo?

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged angels, celestial, Heaven, hymn, John Biscello, Light, love, love-making, pierce, poem, Poetry, sex, thorny | Leave a comment

Smoke

Posted on October 22, 2017 by John Biscello

Consider the hours, consecrated puffs of smoke shot through with dusty light.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged bottle, death, dust, hours, John Biscello, josef sudek, life, Light, photography, pipe, poem, Poetry, prague, smoke, time | Leave a comment

Sentries

Posted on October 22, 2017 by John Biscello

Angels heartbeats, globed, soft pulsing of bold sentries– No one invents light.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged angels, celestial, city, haiku, Heaven, John Biscello, josef sudek, Light, poem, Poetry, prague, streetlamps | Leave a comment

Starry Night

Posted on October 20, 2017 by John Biscello

Stars, the luminous freckles on God’ night-face, or angelic winks from afar, lovingly rendered by a painter named Vincent who bore clearly his scars with exquisite faith.