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Meta
Tag Archives: longing
Affair to Remember
Sea, I never want to marry you. I want us to have a never-ending fling, a love affair flooded with longing and desire … I want to miss you … want to remain missably yours … want to miss you … Continue reading
As Below, So Above
She came to me when I was a child. When I was two. An angel with massive wings which, when extended, generated a musical whoosh and siege of air that felt like a hurricane to my small world. My small … Continue reading
Giantess
Between bewildered, and the wildest seasons of time and longing, she derived dreamily the spatial pulse of God’s somnolent core.
Fly by Night
Longing does not require a precedent, or even a known catalyst. It is, in its purest form, the solvent call of homesickness, which is why our hearts, in their cause and breaking, claim the smallest birds as stars, and the … Continue reading
There Was a Time
Coiled within the echo and ceremony of longing, I tremble between memory’s flitting tease of my belly and hers, how they almost touched, erring a slow burn course by which the word made flesh could stalk itself, from a favored … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
Tagged flesh is the word, longing, lust, memory, passion, poem, Poetry
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Cosmic Lay Slick astronomy, moonlight drips between her thighs– The lay of space, mine.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged cosmos, haiku, longing, poem, Poetry, throbbing
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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.
John Biscello 