Tag Archives: stories

Proofs

Posted on October 17, 2022 by John Biscello

Once upon a time is a necessary mirage. Flesh born of word and bones fulfilling myth. Stories are the means to endlessness. They go on and on. We go on and on carried along by stories carrying within them the … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Holy Dark

Posted on October 16, 2022 by John Biscello

In the dark I tell myself stories cycling through different guises different spells and guesses to sublimate an existential itch I cannot scratch. In batches the words arrive wingless like immigrants from distant shores. I go there hungover from daily … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Gift

Posted on August 9, 2022 by John Biscello

Within the scarry stories of the heart lived a little girl with no actual name who gave stars as playthings to all her imaginary friends.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fireflies

Posted on July 24, 2022 by John Biscello

All these stories– Fireflies in a garden, on a moonless night.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Practice Run

Posted on November 20, 2020 by John Biscello

To get ready, daily, for the stories inside, the voices, yet never losing sight of the fact that they are phantoms skating on waves, and to hold on would be like trying to clutch and contain sea-spray between your fingers– … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

The Bones and the Blue

Posted on November 11, 2020 by John Biscello

“I do an awful lot of thinking and dreaming about things in the past and future—the timelessness of the rocks and the hills—all the people who have existed there.  I prefer winter and fall when you feel the bone structure … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Boneyard’s Way

Posted on December 12, 2018 by John Biscello

I tell myself stories in the dark, Anya. Whether or not they help is either of primary consequence or none at all. Sometimes you have to walk through the boneyard in order to reach the garden. This is what I … Continue reading →

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Her Body and Other Parties

Posted on December 11, 2018 by John Biscello

Review of Carmen Maria Machado’s exceptional collection of stories: Her Body and Other Parties. “Imagine, now, an episode of Black Mirror, in which the female-body-as-haunted-house is the prime subject, a corporeal metaphor undergoing a cinematic vivisection. A symphonic series of camera … Continue reading →

Posted in Books, Press, Prose, Publications, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

The Sadness of Beautiful Things

Posted on August 15, 2018 by John Biscello

Review of Simon Van Booy’s collection of stories, The Sadness of Beautiful Things. “O Lord, give us each our own death. Grant us the dying that comes forth from that life in which we knew love, grappled with meaning, felt … Continue reading →

Posted in Books, Press, Prose, Publications, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

In My Solitude

Posted on June 3, 2018 by John Biscello

It is, for me, as well as other writers of a certain breed, a familiar haunt and barbed echo, that fear of being found out and exposed as a fraud and imposter, some busted metaphor that won’t hold up under … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments