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Meta
Tag Archives: poem
Throb
It is the caste of throb in which words, palpitating, line up to serve a poem’s desirous need to know your longing as an open source.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged craft, Desire, John Biscello, longing, poem, the source, word-pray
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Weathervane
In the climate change of one’s heart, a weathervane, doubling as compass, pointing to true north, as we, the wandering homesick orphans, are called forth to brave the wilds of a new breaking dawn.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged climate change, heartstuff, John Biscello, orphans, poem, Poetry, true north
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You Are Here
To venerate, the privilege of air inside the ceremony of lungs and chance, where you, as an honored guest, get to ripen and breathe the adventure of your name into a free-range universe.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged being here now, breathing lessons, ceremony, John Biscello, poem, universal you
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The Way of the Fool
To marvel dumbly, and trespass, with a sense of the infinite backlighting a wink– this, the way of the Fool, or sacred is as sacred does, when trusting the air in its holy relationship to plunge.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Arcana of the Tarot, fool's play, holy you, infinite jest, John Biscello, poem, Poetry, the leap of faith
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Film Treatment
Silence, within a dark empty theater, starring you on a blank screen.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Cinema, film, haiku, John Biscello, poem, Poetry, reflections
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Calling
Beyond the slimmest margins, a paling, a cooling, where you can assume the role of engaged witness and translate intimacy into a remembered calling, a friend without want or ceiling.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged calling, intimate measures, poem, Poetry, soulplay, the craft, witness
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At the Beckoning Edge
Sometimes, you’ve got to stand at the liminal edge, equal parts trespass and yield, your entire life a fragile ceremony of plunge and arc, respiring within spells of wonder.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged arclighting, edge-point, John Biscello, poem, Poetry, surrender, trespass
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From Shards, a Cathedral
From the absolute hovel of unlettered ruins, a crabby shard, reflecting a tasseled badge of moonlight— this, the modest origins to ceremony and marvel, as she built an outlaw cathedral of self, in which she dwelled and worshipped, vagrantly hospitable … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
Tagged cathedral, cathedral of self, John Biscello, love supreme, poem, Poetry, transformation, what a little moonlight can do
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John Biscello 