-
Archives
- March 2026
- February 2026
- January 2026
- December 2025
- November 2025
- October 2025
- September 2025
- August 2025
- July 2025
- June 2025
- May 2025
- April 2025
- March 2025
- February 2025
- January 2025
- November 2024
- October 2024
- September 2024
- August 2024
- July 2024
- June 2024
- May 2024
- April 2024
- February 2024
- January 2024
- December 2023
- November 2023
- October 2023
- September 2023
- August 2023
- May 2023
- March 2023
- February 2023
- January 2023
- December 2022
- November 2022
- October 2022
- September 2022
- August 2022
- July 2022
- June 2022
- May 2022
- April 2022
- March 2022
- January 2022
- December 2021
- November 2021
- October 2021
- September 2021
- August 2021
- July 2021
- June 2021
- May 2021
- April 2021
- March 2021
- February 2021
- January 2021
- December 2020
- November 2020
- October 2020
- September 2020
- August 2020
- July 2020
- June 2020
- May 2020
- April 2020
- March 2020
- February 2020
- January 2020
- December 2019
- November 2019
- October 2019
- September 2019
- August 2019
- July 2019
- June 2019
- May 2019
- April 2019
- March 2019
- February 2019
- January 2019
- December 2018
- November 2018
- October 2018
- September 2018
- August 2018
- July 2018
- June 2018
- May 2018
- April 2018
- March 2018
- February 2018
- January 2018
- December 2017
- November 2017
- October 2017
- September 2017
- August 2017
- July 2017
- June 2017
- May 2017
- April 2017
- March 2017
- February 2017
- January 2017
- December 2016
- November 2016
- October 2016
- September 2016
- August 2016
- July 2016
- June 2016
- May 2016
- April 2016
- March 2016
-
Meta
Tag Archives: Poetry
Arc
It is the mouth birthing a blood-new kiss that begs gravity’s pardon and raises lips to an impossible arc.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged art nouveau, Artwork, erotic, Gustav Klimt, John Biscello, kiss, lips, love, lovers, lust, painting, poem, Poetry, sensual, spirit
Leave a comment
White Bird
She, full of secret pines, shadow-limbed beneath a pale disc of winter sun, waltzing solo in snow-caked hills, blood-red quill tucked behind her left ear, just in case the urge to climb spires and trace spheres via a fierce run … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged bird, Goddess, hymn, John Biscello, love, nature, poem, Poetry, praise, snow, trees, voice, white bird, Winter
Leave a comment
Winter Adagio
Nightwalk in a small town. Moonbleached adobe set against the snowglobular shakedown of flakes, as if dandruff from the itchy shaved scalp of God was falling, a phosphate rhapsody. Along the road, mudskinned snowdrifts, like albino coal-miners, crouching, or dispossessed … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged adagio, God, John Biscello, night, nightwalk, poem, Poetry, snow, snowdrift, snowflakes, solo, Taos, town, wandering, Winter
Leave a comment
Winter, a Love Story
Winter’s brides, wearing long white scarves of sleet and song, touching pale sky to blue lips, breathing memory and frost; their sorrow and spectral want grows hands that enclose me, a robust crush, matrimonial in its grip, until I am … Continue reading
Claim for the Meek
I do not want to see the face of God. I want to see her mask, where and for whom it cracked, the causal history of lines and fissures; want to trace, with blind mute innocence, the light quartered and … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged claim, God, Goddess, John Biscello, Light, love, mask, meek, poem, Poetry, spirit
Leave a comment
They Are Their Own
Do you know where your children are? Or rather who, in their ripening pedigree and new language they are in the process of becoming? Make no mistake They are not nor have they ever been yours belonging infinitely to the … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged children, family, John Biscello, Literary, love, poem, Poetry, revolution, soul, spirit, Spoken Word, youth
Leave a comment
Astro-Erotic
Orion’s numinous belt undone on the sly by Cassiopeia’s nimble, flaring digits, as he proceeds to enter her whorling sphere of glacial fire spread lightly to produce cosmic aaaaaahs and oooohs, while the green-eyed Moon, papal and robust, records the … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged astro-erotic, constellations, Erotica, John Biscello, Melie, moon, poem, Poetry, recording, space, Stars, trip to the moon
Leave a comment
Retreat
Perfectly still dog, robed in dust; birds, choral and bright, flutter and thrash in needle-comb trees; I, this side of dream, trespass lightly.
Creed
As soon as your pen makes first contact with the page you have done yourself the great and holy service of destroying that viral boogeyman, Perfection, which has buried far too many acts of expression and faith, a dream-life darkened … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged creation, creativity, creed, dreams, John Biscello, literary life, pen, perfection, poem, Poetry, ritual, self-expression, soul, spirit, writing, writing life
Leave a comment
John Biscello 