Tag Archives: love

Mercury

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

I have never been a fan of strength in numbers, but rather, love, counted upon to split edges, to chasten the drift and siege of molten core.  

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Voracity

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

She, baring teeth lodged in the jaws of dreamlife, grazes on symmetry and swaths of fire, this diet, recommended in due measures for dreamers only, trades in the manna of satisfaction for whole-bellied hunger, a voracious reckon and spiritual art … Continue reading →

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Glisten

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

It is hard to believe, but after years and years of clawing with bitten nails, and digging with torn palms, in the heart of a stone she found the babybluest wisps of cloud, soft nimbus music, to which she tendered … Continue reading →

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Theater of Fire

Posted on May 22, 2018 by John Biscello

We are spinning on a magma-veined rock that hangs in space, yes, that, in and of itself, phenomena, but for another take– a perfect circle of a world, a teeming galactic bulb hosting the seismic grift and throb of human … Continue reading →

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Conscripture

Posted on May 20, 2018 by John Biscello

It is not me you are looking for, it is you. We dress and undress as mirrors, conscripting images to burn and cherish, to reveal and reflect the many sides of a lighted front, a sideways turn, modeling love in … Continue reading →

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Orphan

Posted on May 20, 2018 by John Biscello

The greatest lies I learned as a child seperated my soul from its choir, a violent breaching that took the littlest me to the far ends of my self, where I found, in dwelling, Beauty, untrammeled, opening her palm to … Continue reading →

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Course

Posted on May 20, 2018 by John Biscello

Water, its wisdom graded to flow, seeks its own level, you, soul-liquid in essence, symmetry to unknown, are there, beyond the kinks, crimps and wrinkles, a center, irreducibly empty, scored to choral interplay, wonder and chant, you, dream-host to the … Continue reading →

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Petals

Posted on May 20, 2018 by John Biscello

The white rose, impaled, knows itself beyond nomenclature and perish, inviolably Pure, a longing to feel the spring wind, and its alluvial fingers, upon bruised petals, fallen.  

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Fruit

Posted on May 18, 2018 by John Biscello

(Story from Freeze Tag.)    L & S was a candy store and newsstand located on the corner of 60th St. and 18th Ave.  L & S, which stood for Louie & Son, was owned by Louie Varinella: a burly, slightly … Continue reading →

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Portense

Posted on May 18, 2018 by John Biscello

By fever, and sappy resin, proof positive that bodies, in thorny solder, invent new ways for souls to portend and commit arson.    

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