Tag Archives: Poetry

A Brief History of Love

Posted on December 22, 2025 by John Biscello

Here, her mother said, pressing something into her palm.    A phantom tack. A concentrated pinch. Something sharp breaking skin and spreading heat.    She looked down. Her palm now tattooed with a tangle of dark glyphs, a concert of … Continue reading →

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Zuzu’s Petals

Posted on December 21, 2025 by John Biscello

A father’s pocket, containing secret petals— the meaning of love.

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Hymn

Posted on December 21, 2025 by John Biscello

We are here, but briefly,shadows of candle-lightdancing between dust and choir,day and night,so consider todaya good dayto begin, or to continueunwrapping yourself,and giving you to you as a gift,your soul rightfully taggedas both receiver and sender,in what constitutesa wild embracing … Continue reading →

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Locomotive

Posted on December 15, 2025 by John Biscello

   You didn’t dream her, you who are slowly climbing aboard a locomotive, being watched, so you feel, by whom? The needling press and burn of eyes on your back, itchy hot collar, you scratch, you cough, you take a … Continue reading →

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Torch Song

Posted on December 12, 2025 by John Biscello

   She is there. She is always there, in the corridor. And she is lonely. This much I know. Lonely as a form of cold that you cannot cover with blankets or insulate against with coats and scarves and such. … Continue reading →

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Talisman

Posted on December 4, 2025 by John Biscello

Wordwise, edges and ledges: we are falling off. We, as in word-wielding also world-wearied, we, an endangered species, parrots with branded larynxes … falling off. Ask a stranger to cup your balls (male or female you, no matter) as you … Continue reading →

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Intimate Measures

Posted on December 3, 2025 by John Biscello

It is a lonely road. The road made of words. The words stay put. The feelings don’t. The words crystallize, become the flambed edges of something soft in the center. It is a struggle within, and a turn-on, mud-wrestling false … Continue reading →

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Epilogue

Posted on December 3, 2025 by John Biscello

We are ghosts haunting our own lives, understanding on the deepest level that there is no beginning and no end. Because we know that, or in spite of knowing that, we wander, we stalk, we pursue. We give names and … Continue reading →

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(sic)

Posted on December 3, 2025 by John Biscello

   She compiled what they called obscure texts into what was then labeled an obscure book. She was vilified. To be obscure, to be knowingly obscure, was, as they saw it, was a veiled threat to innocence and an assault … Continue reading →

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Horizon

Posted on December 2, 2025 by John Biscello

Longing’s end goal is itself, though it will never admit that. To admit that would strip Longing of its impetus and bait, would render it flatfooted in its futile race against time. Longing is habitually wired to attach its fevers … Continue reading →

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