Tag Archives: memory

Doll

Posted on November 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Nineteen rifles and the village was burned to the ground nineteen rifles stolen by rebels and then came the awful burning down what was called scorched earth policy. My mother my father my brother were burned down to the ground … Continue reading →

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Through the Dreaming

Posted on November 13, 2022 by John Biscello

Born from the long forgotten the golems drift in the company of echoes. Half lit unremembered near to beingness you can hear the golems muttering inaudibly. Their mouths stuffed with wombs dreaming gumming up their enunciation. The words don’t come. … Continue reading →

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Fly by Night

Posted on October 14, 2021 by John Biscello

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 →

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There Was a Time

Posted on October 14, 2021 by John Biscello

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 →

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Intimation

Posted on November 19, 2020 by John Biscello

“Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star” – William Wordsworth Once upon a star, lyrics mated with the dark– Memory was born.

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In Search of Lost Time

Posted on September 18, 2020 by John Biscello

A meditation on memory, longing, storytelling and spiritual homesickness.

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Geist

Posted on November 25, 2018 by John Biscello

Memory, like stone tapes, like hardened slabs of analog recalling the icy geist of my childhood in a Brooklyn basement, revisited.

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Honeycomb

Posted on July 14, 2018 by John Biscello

The deep bass drum of laughter, a resounding prayer, no more forgetting who I am, the well of memory has been stirred, and my bones, in turn, have been dared to splinter, the cracks between worlds, widening, inviting me to … Continue reading →

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Owl

Posted on March 5, 2018 by John Biscello

Owl, owl, burning white, your gaze, peerless, and sublime, bearing braised volumes of silence within fathomless archives– Who dares to confront the suddenness of history, all at once, unblinking? Who dares to initiate the sorrow of millennia, in a single … Continue reading →

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Hallway

Posted on March 4, 2018 by John Biscello

This could be titled John Biscello Doesn’t Live Here Anymore, could be titled Romancing the Ghosts, or perhaps no title at all, just a flickering reminiscence trapped in a photo snapped by a childhood friend who swears that he occasionally … Continue reading →

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