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Meta
Tag Archives: Poetry
Arc
Starstruck, and wrestling within mortal coils, God’s lucid fame overshadows the cast of our solitary arc.
Proof
With the grave mortal nearness that only distance can bring, we enter the bruised, secret heart of our childhood, a stalker’s negative proof, slow-burned to exposure and fade.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged childhood, exposure, fade, John Biscello, love, poem, Poetry
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Torch
How a writer, cave-timing dark and solitude, annoints an ember by crafting the small hours into a flagrant torch.
Scripture
To be swallowed, wordless, as the worst you always feared turns lighted proof into lasting scripture.
Second-Hand
We, as time-worn saboteurs, engage the history of scabs and locks, resetting old wounds to the hands of a busted clock.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged John Biscello, Literary, poem, Poetry, time, wounds
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Wish You Were Here
Send us postcards from your loneliest places, your fault-lines and secret rivets, send us words and we promise not to burn them, we promise that something of the ineffable will stick, as if a lasting thorn in God’s bruised paw.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged God, John Biscello, Literary, poem, Poetry, postcard, wish you were here
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Pledge
It is like stalking thin, haunted air, and forever coming up empty, she, the dark lady, a shallow fret, the one who will surely bring you to grief. This you knew, and craved, as soon as you laid eyes on … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged dark lady, haunt, John Biscello, Literary, obsession, pledge, poem, Poetry, wound
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Tow
Grief, its memory a river bound to a course inveighing a volatile tow.
Turn of the Screw
Is this what Adam and Eve felt like, outcasts in their own backyard? In this wasteland would you just screw and screw and screw, the desperate conjugation of the lonely and damned, trying to screw your way out of the … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged adam and eve, badlands, bisti badlands, eden, John Biscello, Literary, New Mexico, poem, Poetry
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Marvel
In these mortal coils I have always marveled at the sheer lightness of centuries rising to meet love in a single feral drop of gospel distilled to its purest form.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged gospel, gravity, hope, John Biscello, lightness, love, poem, Poetry
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John Biscello 