Tag Archives: poem

Monk’s Dream (Take Five)

Posted on October 29, 2025 by John Biscello
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Red Wind

Posted on August 18, 2025 by John Biscello

The stilettos of red wind go on pecking at me, at us. We haven’t seen our mother in seven months. She was taken away. I could present evidence of my mother— kitchens tattooed onto her elbows and wrists, walking the … Continue reading →

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Company

Posted on June 22, 2025 by John Biscello

I have always depended on the kindness of solitude to acquaint me favorably with the company of words.

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Glare

Posted on June 22, 2025 by John Biscello

We are dreamwalkers punctuated by reveries and long listless spells of want. Conjugal in our misgiven symmetries, our lives readily become us by frayed skeins of intimacy and sensual haunt.

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Company

Posted on April 17, 2025 by John Biscello

In the company of numinous graces and unremembered lots Infinity counts upon phenomenal breadth and bandwidth to maximize its local market value within the human plot.

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Intrigue

Posted on April 17, 2025 by John Biscello

Plots, in a mysterious ceremony, unending. Ephemera becomes us, if only briefly.

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Notation

Posted on April 17, 2025 by John Biscello

Ghosts, in lucid drag, bare to the drifts and unerring grace of realms unending— we, in human-rent shape, exercise particles in a quantum plot of recall and dramatic flair— these mortal coils, shed, in frets and arpeggios, scale by scale, … Continue reading →

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Golden Silence

Posted on April 16, 2025 by John Biscello

Happy birthday, Charles Spencer Chaplin, and thanks for tramping around on-screen with such zest, pluck, vim, and gilded tenderness. Tatters in half-light,the poor heart’s lonely hunting–shreds of pure love, sown.

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The Wonder Years

Posted on April 14, 2025 by John Biscello

We are here but briefly, fingered skeins and finite exhales threaded within a spiraling fable of ordered repetitions and infinite respiration— We are the supplest of gilded elegies, membered to the magnetic cause of wake and dream.

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All That Jazz

Posted on April 4, 2025 by John Biscello

In the Beginning was the Be All End All, and from out of lidless silence and void emerged a beat, hailing another beat, and it wasn’t long before the Universe, speaking in tongues and verses, was percussin’ its ass off … Continue reading →

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