Tag Archives: poem

Luminaries

Posted on December 15, 2021 by John Biscello

She came to know himthrough the brushwork of fingers–Light, the common touch.

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Triptych for Edie Sedgwick

Posted on December 15, 2021 by John Biscello

I.Too many small hourspimped out to wraiths on parade–Heart, in real time, breaks.  II.Make me an offer,they shoot pretty girls, don’t they?Leave haunting to me.  III.Baby, forget the petals,we’ll feed you thorns,you’ll be like Jesus Christin black tights,a superstar in dark eye … Continue reading →

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Sylvia Plath

Posted on December 15, 2021 by John Biscello

To be a mother, and to double as a dark sorceress, a cleaver of dried bones, could not have been easy. Especially in the 1950s. They burned witches then, as well as reds and blacks and faggots, and other things … Continue reading →

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Waves

Posted on October 14, 2021 by John Biscello

At the faltering edge, where possibility meets a stolen glance, and guilt whispers discreetly to us the manner in which we must transgress, we traded breath for flame, and burned through every last vestige of decency, beneath our bodies shameless … 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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Seeds

Posted on August 21, 2021 by John Biscello

The heart is the first organ which develops in embryo. Remember that, next time you have sworn off inspiration, or the marvels abounding in that speck of moonlight you swallowed on the day your heart met your mouth, and you … Continue reading →

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Rise

Posted on August 21, 2021 by John Biscello

Infinite potential is a glimmer and a wink, a nod from the moon to the tides, where you agree to go under a spell, and sing yourself to rise, in the poached dark.

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Posted on June 8, 2021 by John Biscello

Cosmic Lay Slick astronomy, moonlight drips between her thighs– The lay of space, mine.

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Speakeasy

Posted on April 16, 2021 by John Biscello

Dreams are like speakeasies for the soul. A secret password so you can enter, unchecked moral boundaries allowing you to trespass and indulge freely in the vagrant and illicit, after hours pressing of bootleg vinyl that places scorched scarabs in … Continue reading →

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