Tag Archives: Poetry

The Inheritors

Posted on April 10, 2020 by John Biscello

The weight of the world does not belong on your shoulders, my sons and daughters; square yourself to the sun’s slow-poured thimbles of light, as the presence of wings, warmed, grows where you were held back to forge seedless burdens … Continue reading →

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Sorcerer’s Apprentice

Posted on April 9, 2020 by John Biscello

Breathing in, this holy seethe, an etheric reflux of fierce fire and starlight, which has kept me in tow and fasting thrall to my dreams for as long as I can remember. When I was a budding young sorcerer, new … Continue reading →

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Transience

Posted on April 7, 2020 by John Biscello

Where were you last night, my dreams asked of my silence— Between worlds, I longed.

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Trespass Lightly

Posted on April 7, 2020 by John Biscello

Wayfaring, through dreams, the most golden trespasses called me to follow.

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Tune

Posted on April 7, 2020 by John Biscello

To swing and sync, tuned, Music’s inviolable guide to dreaming, in time.

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Dreamscaping

Posted on April 7, 2020 by John Biscello

Immutable lore, lucid is as lucid does– What dreams become you?

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Distances

Posted on April 5, 2020 by John Biscello

We matched distances— parallel tracks of chilled air, merging warm in touch.

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Jazz

Posted on April 5, 2020 by John Biscello

Syncing into tune, we whistle past the graveyard— Stars, moon, all that jazz.

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Thirteen Ways of Visioning a Crow

Posted on April 5, 2020 by John Biscello

I. Remember that nouns, verbs and adjectives are made-up things. Crows, on the other hand, are real to life, and winged. II. Place a walnut at the edge of a curb. Wait for a crow to swoop down and take … Continue reading →

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What You Can’t See

Posted on March 31, 2020 by John Biscello

Sunset, beading flashfire sparks and gilded symmetry, upon the gloss-dark wings of crows, who, in brazen observance, caw with religious fervor, an airing of lyrics intimately vested to the secret lives of children, walking home, winged.

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