Tag Archives: Poetry

Shrift

Posted on May 8, 2018 by John Biscello

The soft bop and shrift of dreams, how they rake and tumble, colored Braille for a blind vagrant, stunned.

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Jackson Pollock

Posted on May 7, 2018 by John Biscello

Out of silence, and lidded smolder, arose a localized storm. You could say it was a balletic squall forecasting its own tyrant reign and fall, a fate designed to galvanize and then blackout not so gently into that goodnight exit … Continue reading →

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Wordplay

Posted on May 6, 2018 by John Biscello

Savor, how words, transgressing grammar, mate in the middle of a sentence and melt, when no one is looking.

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Perspective

Posted on May 6, 2018 by John Biscello

There are lace panties, and there are cliffs. When considering a jump, note the hazards, and the marked distinction between diving in or off.

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I Do Not Say

Posted on May 6, 2018 by John Biscello

I do not say I love you, but I notice how your fingers twine and wrap around empty, tracing broken circles in the air when you are nervous. I do not say I love you, but there is a spot … Continue reading →

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Intraverse

Posted on April 29, 2018 by John Biscello

(Intraverse, Epitaph for a Beginning is a 24-part poem, which will be included in my collection Arclight. I wanted to present it here, uncut, for those who enjoy swallowing their jagged metaphysical fragments whole.) 1. Bidden by tatters, and gravity’s mutable … Continue reading →

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Cinemate

Posted on April 24, 2018 by John Biscello

Tinder, how tongues snake flames to debut summer’s flick– Burn Slow While Kissing.

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Currency

Posted on April 23, 2018 by John Biscello

Language, a living currency and greening force, gospel and amorphic in its leanings toward the freest and most daring aspects of your imagination, well beyond margins, syntax, and staid forms.

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Fierce and Daisy

Posted on April 23, 2018 by John Biscello

Among greengolden pastures, the fierce grew. Its plastic vampire teeth tore into the jugulars of bluebells, its molten leavetaking gave the earth scars and heartburn, and left the fresh grass in tears. The roots, understanding the nature of siege, its … Continue reading →

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Margin

Posted on April 22, 2018 by John Biscello

Beyond these margins, lies something that is yours, yes, an intimate claim.

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