Tag Archives: poem

The Lion, The Mouse, and Me

Posted on May 29, 2018 by John Biscello

There is this small piece of glass an unstable irritant at the back of my heart way way back a shard that got lodged there god knows when and lately in considering and reflecting upon this bit of glass and the … Continue reading →

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Fly Now, Pray Later

Posted on May 29, 2018 by John Biscello

For a subliminal time only it’s here Neverland’s lucid New Romanticism replete with pricks, needles and pines bespeaking Pagan Renaissance Nouveau a movement that will start in your vowels and end in your Oh’s especially suggested for those soft in … Continue reading →

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Paris

Posted on May 28, 2018 by John Biscello

I have never been to Paris, and so I must write about my time there, how Hemingway threw the gauntlet at my feet and challenged me to an armwrestling match three times, beating me each and every time, and Hemingway … Continue reading →

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Print

Posted on May 27, 2018 by John Biscello

We, the intermediaries, the gilded abeyance, between holy fire and dreamless wake, we, each and every one, corpuscles, tendered to print in God’s colossal palm.

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10:47pm

Posted on May 26, 2018 by John Biscello

It is times like this when I feel as if I’m on fire on the inside that I want to give a live play by play on process raw and unfiltered before it has a chance to cool off and … Continue reading →

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Ocean Song

Posted on May 26, 2018 by John Biscello

If you cut out my tongue I will grow a new one I have done it a dozen times before, if you deign to curse and steal my eyes go right ahead innervision has a long history of citing the … Continue reading →

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Twilight

Posted on May 26, 2018 by John Biscello

As a child I searched high and low for the right kind of magic to heal my mother’s pain never truly understanding how heavy the chains were nor how the forgers names etched in every link belonged to Legion claiming … Continue reading →

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Sintax

Posted on May 26, 2018 by John Biscello

There’s nothing sexier than a girl undressing in cursive to reveal the curves and loops of pure language squeezing every last drop from metaphor to exalt and fondle the core of similes standing in for skin and fire and other … Continue reading →

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Sunstroke

Posted on May 26, 2018 by John Biscello

There’s something about a girl baring flagrant cherish in the sunniest regions of hell that raises Eden to a four letter five alarm siege on skin and other vital parts prey to melting.  

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Childhood’s Wake

Posted on May 25, 2018 by John Biscello

You can feel it in the air, a razory sheen, all the childhoods that were lost or stolen or seized or buried to model catacombs and secret lairs, are returning to the surface bigtime, the reclaimants growing new teeth and … Continue reading →

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