Tag Archives: Poetry

Found Blue

Posted on October 25, 2020 by John Biscello

We do not enter the bluest hours, they come upon us, tender fugue and gallows silk, where we, in blatant trembling sheerness, are revealed to ourselves as the bated wisps between air and perish.

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Firsting Impression

Posted on October 25, 2020 by John Biscello

It happens fast, this life— the first trembling chapter of an impending sneeze, the half-slitted stutter of a lid’s ambition to wink— We are, timewise, less than these things in the gaugeless cosmic scheme. And yet beyond these words, and … Continue reading →

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Weathervane

Posted on October 23, 2020 by John Biscello

In the climate change of one’s heart, a weathervane, doubling as compass, pointing to true north, as we, the wandering homesick orphans, are called forth to brave the wilds of a new breaking dawn.

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The Way of the Fool

Posted on October 22, 2020 by John Biscello

To marvel dumbly, and trespass, with a sense of the infinite backlighting a wink– this, the way of the Fool, or sacred is as sacred does, when trusting the air in its holy relationship to plunge.

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Film Treatment

Posted on October 22, 2020 by John Biscello

Silence, within a dark empty theater, starring you on a blank screen.

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Calling

Posted on October 22, 2020 by John Biscello

Beyond the slimmest margins, a paling, a cooling, where you can assume the role of engaged witness and translate intimacy into a remembered calling, a friend without want or ceiling.

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Birthing Pains

Posted on October 22, 2020 by John Biscello

To see, everywhere, brave little lights going up, flares of hope and justice, holding hands to tip the scales in a bond of solidarity, a fire-chastened purge and desire for change’s holy golden grail, the quest, a blessed rhyme and … Continue reading →

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At the Beckoning Edge

Posted on October 21, 2020 by John Biscello

Sometimes, you’ve got to stand at the liminal edge, equal parts trespass and yield, your entire life a fragile ceremony of plunge and arc, respiring within spells of wonder.

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From Shards, a Cathedral

Posted on October 21, 2020 by John Biscello

From the absolute hovel of unlettered ruins, a crabby shard, reflecting a tasseled badge of moonlight— this, the modest origins to ceremony and marvel, as she built an outlaw cathedral of self, in which she dwelled and worshipped, vagrantly hospitable … Continue reading →

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Anthemic

Posted on October 21, 2020 by John Biscello

Comfort is a privilege, yet kindness and dignity, charity and compassion, are spirit-given rights and blessings, the seeded marrow and initiative of our soul’s turnings toward unequivocal light.

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