Tag Archives: mourning

Melodrama

Posted on February 22, 2024 by John Biscello

Let’s start with this photo, the comic melodrama in which you, perfectly staged, are wearing a blue pinafore dress, your dark hair gagged in pigtails, mouth heavily lipsticked, cheeks cherubically rouged, your eyes two flashing ovals of abyss-pooling licorice, sweat … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged incarnations, life and death, locomotive, love story, lyrics to go, melodrama, mourning, novel in progress, photo, Prose, silent film, story, tragedy, villain | Leave a comment

Autumn

Posted on December 6, 2018 by John Biscello

Find a yellow leaf, a golden leaf, a leaf that’s mourned its own falling. Name it. Whisper its name to it, kiss it. Unname it, whisper silence to it, kiss it again. Fling the leaf and watch it dance in … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged autumn, fall, John Biscello, mourning, poem | Leave a comment

Wither

Posted on March 9, 2018 by John Biscello

From morning to noon, the roses gathered to grieve the loss of their bloom. (Photo by David John Lotto)

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged bloom, david john lotto, grief, haiku, John Biscello, morning, mourning, noon, photo, poem, Poetry, roses, wither | 1 Comment

Gravesite

Posted on February 13, 2018 by John Biscello

My father and I visited my mother’s grave. Nothing about it felt profound or moving. It felt like a prescribed exercise in courtesy, a bland ritual. One thing that gave it a dramatic feel: it was raining. … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged anya, Brooklyn, cemetery, father, gravesite, grief, John Biscello, mother, mourning, no man's brooklyn, novel, son | Leave a comment

Of Time and the River

Posted on January 3, 2018 by John Biscello

One thing we cannot recover is time. Perhaps that’s what I have been trying to do. Perhaps that’s what every writer, as a fugitive stalker, as a heartsick orphan, as the fool-hero in their own movie is … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged amen, art, creation, creativity, dreams, grief, Heaven, John Biscello, life, Light, love, mortality, mourning, praise, Prose, self-expression, shadow, story, writing | Leave a comment

Pigtails

Posted on December 5, 2017 by John Biscello

There was that day you wore your hair in pigtails. You were thirteen. Pigtails and a pale blue summer dress. I think the dress was new. My mother had died three days earlier. You and I … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged Benhonhurst, Brooklyn, friends, girl, grief, John Biscello, love, mourning, pathos, pigtails, Prose, stoop, story, summer | Leave a comment

Kiss

Posted on November 4, 2017 by John Biscello

Among the feathery downs of dark, and silvery quiet, I find you, time and again, the filigreed stem of a lush red rose, a night kiss sealing air in shuttered mourning.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged dark, dream, filigree, heartache, John Biscello, kiss, love, love poem, mourning, rose, silvery, sorrow | Leave a comment

Death of a Super Hero

Posted on October 4, 2017 by John Biscello

I was six when I found out I’d never become a super-hero. We were in the kitchen. Me, my mother, my father. My father’s hand was around my mother’s throat. He had a wild, bloodshot, not-there look … Continue reading →

Posted in Artwork, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged batman and robin, Brooklyn, death in the family, family, father, John Biscello, Literary, literature, mother, mourning, novel, Prose, story, super-hero | Leave a comment

Marianne

Posted on August 15, 2017 by John Biscello

A rocking chair stilled, white on white, burning, no sound– So long, Marianne.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged John Biscello, leonard cohen, marianne, mourning, photo, poem, Poetry, so long marianne | Leave a comment