-
Archives
- 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: sadness
Blue Jukebox
She passed through the beads dangling in the doorway. Echoes of beads rattling, like glassy cricket bones crunched, her moving forward, stopping at the counter, men’s heads turning, as if on rubbery swivels, none say a word, wordless the men … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged cantina, dreams, fragment, halluncinations, jukebox, melancholy, music, Prose, sadness
Leave a comment
Postcard from the Edge
Posted in Poetry
Tagged days of mourning, grief, life, loss, poem, sadness, what dreams may come
Leave a comment
Jean Rhys
You held the islands in your eyes, where it rained and rained and then the sun warmed wet to a wafting hiss. This Jean, you, the feline slink, filigreed shock, and sinewy comb of whitelaced waves ruffling upon puttied blobs … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged Beauty, grace, islands, Jean Rhys, John Biscello, literature, passion, poem, Poetry, sadness, sea, spirit, story, tribute, writer, writer's life
Leave a comment
Train
I understand, you let the wrong one in again– doors close, doors open. (Artwork by Nigel Van Wieck)
Posted in Artwork, Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged edward hopper, forlorn, haiku, John Biscello, New York, painting, Poetry, romance, sadness, subway, transit, woman
Leave a comment
Edie
Too many small hours pimped out to wraiths on parade– Heart, in real time, breaks.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged 1960s, Beauty, Edie Sedgwick, haiku, It Girl, John Biscello, poem, sadness, The Factory, tragedy, warhol
Leave a comment
Anne and the Clouds
Anne, lovely disturbed Anne, pinned by gravity, and bedded to cobbles, cherishing the vagrant destiny of clouds, and calming distance.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged anne sexton, cherish, clouds, distance, John Biscello, photo, poem, poet, Poetry, sadness, serenity
2 Comments
Ravels
At the wound’s core, dark luscious ravels of text, courting, inviolate measures, the fathomless brood of Beauty’s End.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged Beauty, dark, deveotion, ink, intimacy, John Biscello, luscious, poem, ravels, sadness, text, writing
Leave a comment
Endear
Sometimes a word scratched in dark ink onto a page is the loneliest sound in the universe, and yet, what beautiful solitary company these verses endeared to mortal failings.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged Beauty, dream, endear, heart, John Biscello, loneliness, love, poem, Poetry, sadness, writing
Leave a comment
Wendigo, a Winter Story
A man in a bulky white parka is running across a snowy landscape. The hood pulled over his head is lined with seal-gray fur. He is wearing plastic goggles that are caked in frost. … Continue reading
Posted in Prose, Uncategorized
Tagged ghosts, grief, ice, John Biscello, love, melancholy, Prose, sadness, snow, sorrow, story, wendigo, Winter
Leave a comment
Innocence
Blindly, blindly, blindly, she reaps every choice from my scythe and asking. I live with brute innocence and murder in her heart. I am not her child, I am her fiction, her sad fable and paling wrath.
Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tagged Beauty, dream, enclosure, innocence, John Biscello, love, poem, Poetry, rebirth, sadness, sorrow, wrath
Leave a comment