Tag Archives: poem

The Door

Posted on December 3, 2018 by John Biscello

The green woman from my dream handed me an ax, told me to break down the door. I held the ax limply, hesitating. Break down the door, she insisted, an overbite to her tone, this time adding the word goddamn. … Continue reading →

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Turn

Posted on December 3, 2018 by John Biscello

How fragile we are, how marvelous in our turns to matter, in love.    

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Bask

Posted on December 2, 2018 by John Biscello

Every last star ghosts its own holy rapture– we, a part of, bask.

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Winter

Posted on December 2, 2018 by John Biscello

Dreamed: wine-dark roses blooming in early winter– Grief, subject to change.

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Bike Rally

Posted on November 30, 2018 by John Biscello

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

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Hansel’s Primal Urges

Posted on November 30, 2018 by John Biscello

A house in the woods, rumors of a shapely witch– The risk of foreplay.

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Confidentially Speaking

Posted on November 30, 2018 by John Biscello

Who, what, where and when, stories love lighted windows at night, plot thickens.

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A Theater Near You

Posted on November 30, 2018 by John Biscello

Angels sacrifice the molten blood of their light to make still life films.

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The Human Chronicles

Posted on November 30, 2018 by John Biscello

How reassuring to know that this scene, this Martian postcard of halcyon rupture, of phoenixes rapturing in legion, lives inside of us, the history and legacy of our cells functioning as projectors through which eternal dreamstock engages the audience of … Continue reading →

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Scenes from a Marriage

Posted on November 30, 2018 by John Biscello

Sometimes, when lucky, you can catch the process of creation, its cinemagical flux, in the sundered middle of scene changes.

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