Tag Archives: poem

Icarus, Remixed

Posted on August 19, 2019 by John Biscello

I was Icarus with double-edged wings once upon a time. The dreamer’s big eyes, full of flames and longing, the impetuous nature, the jazz of my soaring, all of it defined me as the blaring antithesis to my dad’s son-proofed … Continue reading →

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In Praise of Ryokan

Posted on August 15, 2019 by John Biscello

The moon, melting liquid frost onto my window, slips through my fingers, as I recall that legendary jewel thief who once pulled off an impossible heist, which, to this day, the right kind of fools, lovers and lunatics, constellate their … Continue reading →

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Room to Spare

Posted on August 13, 2019 by John Biscello

At a lighted remove, she coerces solitude into a tender rapport with her barest haunt.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)

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Looking Without

Posted on August 13, 2019 by John Biscello

The simplest means to revelation, and perhaps revolution, was to stay away from mirrors and the masks which justified their glaring reproof.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)

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Light Becomes Her

Posted on August 9, 2019 by John Biscello

There was never going to be any show, she knew that. Yet she fed on the light to counteract an unappeasable hunger, to star where the emptiness reamed darkest.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)

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Sight-Line

Posted on August 9, 2019 by John Biscello

After watching the bruised legacy of her childhood pass her by out of the corner of her eye, she had developed an astigmatism which, in effect, bred her glaring suspicion of distance, and violent need of its diffuse edges.   … Continue reading →

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The Movie You Didn’t See

Posted on August 8, 2019 by John Biscello

Superimposed onto a world which left her mute, wondering how and why, she sought out a base template through which her blues could be projected from a distance softly near to sublime.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)    

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The Soloist

Posted on August 8, 2019 by John Biscello

Kettled by mass and slow-building infinity solitude begs nothing of stone and receives a woman through to which to flesh out its lasting hymn and testament.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)

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Turn Signal

Posted on July 26, 2019 by John Biscello

The hidden symmetry in going is that its patterns don’t reveal themselves until hindsight fans out  and clarifies the marvels of letting and perspective.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)

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A Question of Who

Posted on July 26, 2019 by John Biscello

It was only now, after the split had occurred, that his exact words returned to the surface— I am in love with the aesthetics of your sorrow— and this makes you wonder how much of you he saw, how much … Continue reading →

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