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Meta
Tag Archives: longing
Peony
This peony is an empty house/ In which each of us recaptures night. —Jean Laroche In the panting still of night, a peony, trembling, fragrant, blushing bright against the dark matted vines of memory, in which lovers, tangled and throbbing, … Continue reading
The Lighthouse and the Labyrinth
A thousand and one labyrinths, maybe more, filled with the lost and forlorn, weeping, yet never losing sight of the hidden lighthouse, that favored legend of which rumors have prevailed, to guide the dreamers, in the way that secrets whisper … Continue reading
Wistful
“It was back into the mind of the young man with cardboard soles who had walked the streets of New York. I was him again—for an instant I had the good fortune to share his dreams, I who had no … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged F. Scott Fitzgerald, John Biscello, longing, poem, Prose, wistful, youth
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Autumn
I close my eyes and I see her again, a silhouette, near to distance, and dissolving– the autumn rain taps its seminal code for longing onto the trembling glass of a window closed.
Transcience
Where were you last night, my dreams asked of my silence— Between worlds, I longed.
Throb
It is the caste of throb in which words, palpitating, line up to serve a poem’s desirous need to know your longing as an open source.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged craft, Desire, John Biscello, longing, poem, the source, word-pray
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In Search of Lost Time
A meditation on memory, longing, storytelling and spiritual homesickness.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized, Video
Tagged John Biscello, longing, memory, Spoken Word, the writing life
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Transience
Where were you last night, my dreams asked of my silence— Between worlds, I longed.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged dreamscaping, haiku, John Biscello, longing, night visions, Poetry, transient, worlds within
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Corner Shot
The word on the street kept him waiting for a dame made of ink-wet dreams.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged haiku, ink-stained ballad, John Biscello, longing, portland, pub crawl, rose city book pub, the literary life
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Obsession
To be claimed by that which you can never possess– the cyclical deficit of longing in bated arrears.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged Cinema, david lynch, John Biscello, longing, lost highway, obsession, passion-play, patricia arquette, poem
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