Tag Archives: play

Seeds

Posted on October 28, 2020 by John Biscello

The other day I met a monk who juggled watermelon seeds with his tongue. When I asked him how he did it, he spit the seeds at me, a staccato stream of seeds as if the monk were no monk … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged grace, John Biscello, monk, play, Poetry, seeds, watermelon | Leave a comment

The Soldier

Posted on March 19, 2020 by John Biscello

Excerpt from All the Last Furies. He swept me into the storage room of the inn. Baited me with the promise of candy. Something so simple, and yet candy might be the ultimate siren for children, its lure a golden … Continue reading →

Posted in Books, Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged all the last furies, arthur rimbaud, John Biscello, memory of fiction, novel, play, Prose, radio tuning, the inn, the raping | Leave a comment

Bike Rally

Posted on November 30, 2018 by John Biscello

At childhood’s wild edge, play as the sacred totem– No license required.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged I want to ride my bicycle i want to ride my bike, John Biscello, play, poem, the wheel deal | Leave a comment

Satyr

Posted on April 19, 2018 by John Biscello

I found him, wanting, satyr’s swell of thorny play– fondling fresh, green grass.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged grass, haiku, John Biscello, lust, nature, pan, passion, play, Poetry, satyr, sesnsuality, throb | Leave a comment

Wonder

Posted on March 25, 2018 by John Biscello

Each spring they return, bound to renew small wonders– Innocent by turns. (Artwork by Izumi Yokoyama)

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Artwork, children, fable, forest, ghosts, haiku, izumi yokoyama, John Biscello, jump rope, play, poem, spring, tree | 1 Comment

Autobiography

Posted on March 25, 2018 by John Biscello

To know myself, a rogue aggregate of loving atoms, a happy shivering clusterfuck of luminous baubles banded together to forge and assume an alleged identity, no papers or pulpit required, to fulfill an arc, and heart-guided directives, to be a … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged autobiography, badlands, desert, dream, God, I, identity, John Biscello, love, me, play, poem, Poetry, soul, spirit | 6 Comments

Nursery

Posted on March 19, 2018 by John Biscello

The nursery burned, as the children kept playing– Parents worlds away. (Artwork by Dorothea Tanning)

Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged Artwork, children spirit, destruction, dorothea tanning, haiku, John Biscello, love, nursery, painting, play, poem, surreal | Leave a comment

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 →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged 1741, 62nd street, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, childhood, friend, ghosts, hallway, house, John Biscello, memory, photo, play, poem, the past | 1 Comment

In Love and War

Posted on February 22, 2018 by John Biscello

(Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn.) I dumped all my G.I. Joes out of the shopping bag and onto the pavement of the driveway. I separated the good guys from the bad guys, and then arranged them in specific positions. … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged action figures, anya, Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, daniel, G.I. Joe, John Biscello, no man's brooklyn, novel, play, Prose, toys | Leave a comment

Burn While Reading

Posted on February 21, 2018 by John Biscello

Touch, how her body becomes a pulsing slate of Braille, your fingers, unfinished, running on

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged body, Braille, erotic, John Biscello, kiss, love, lust, play, poem, sensual | Leave a comment