Tag Archives: silence

Foreplay

Posted on September 7, 2026 by John Biscello

i liked her best wrapped in gloaming and told her so she smiled and said i needed better metaphors or lesser ones if i hoped to undress her where silence mattered most.

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Lush Life

Posted on September 7, 2026 by John Biscello

Conundrum to my common ache and feted fevers, place me under your tongue’s secrets for safekeeping, and the cherished prospect of going down like hard candy in a throat closing to darken the rent of rapture from lush.

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As if Ghosts

Posted on May 16, 2026 by John Biscello

She, as in ghosts, as in white-hot incubi with a seductive glassy not there stare, it bewitches and allures, bears melancholy freighted with scraped knees and mirror shards. There is a lucid unblinking poise, calculated reserve composed of crystal and … Continue reading →

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Rivet

Posted on May 14, 2026 by John Biscello

Here, papering over hovel origins of wounds and silence with words riveting on and on and on, dirty frayed bandages panting staccato and weary in the wind, yet never losing voice, nor the canopied capacity for mime in the manic … Continue reading →

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Vigil

Posted on April 15, 2026 by John Biscello

Clouds, fleecy in glaring mass, softly, softly, the words tender themselves to silence in passing.

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Words and Silence

Posted on March 20, 2026 by John Biscello

I write longhand because I feel as if I am skipping an essential step in the process if I go straight to typing up the work. Is it better that I write longhand? Does that make the work truer? More … Continue reading →

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Dark Matter

Posted on December 4, 2025 by John Biscello

A story from out of the dark. First there was one voice, followed by a second voice … the dark twists itself into shapes and semblances. The dark is the clothing our ghosts wear. I have tried to acquaint myself … Continue reading →

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Words and Silence

Posted on December 1, 2025 by John Biscello

There’s no one left to finger, no one left to blame. Someone sang that. I wish I had sung that. I didn’t. I echo. I am echoes proliferating like genetically disturbed rabbits. Maybe neurodivergent rabbits copulating is a better term, … Continue reading →

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Domain

Posted on November 17, 2025 by John Biscello

   Samuel Beckett tried to corral silence by making silence the domain of language. To not say anything, to ultimately embrace silence, would have meant an impossible task—setting down the pen, laying to rest the voice—and placing a moratorium on … Continue reading →

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Dinner, No Voices

Posted on November 17, 2025 by John Biscello

   I waited. We waited. A storm was coming. It had to be. He had returned from rehab several days earlier, after having been gone for two months. My father had always born pouchy bags under his eyes, but there, … Continue reading →

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