Tag Archives: twilight

Gloaming

Posted on February 7, 2024 by John Biscello

At twilight, the softly paling into summer plum sky, sliver of moon suspended like a bone-white boomerang in the distance, narrow street courting its void with dignity— What kind of dream is this, which reminds you there is nothing to … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged between worlds, dusk, fragments, gloam, japan, lucid, lyrics, poem, silence, street, twilight | Leave a comment

Gloam

Posted on October 26, 2023 by John Biscello

From the series, Japan Poems. Strangers on a bridge, enveloped in twilight mist– Songs for vanishing.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged bridge, haiku, japan, mist, poem, rainy, twilight, umbrella, vanishing | Leave a comment

Kites

Posted on October 11, 2023 by John Biscello

From the series, Japan Poems. In the cloud-papered volume of unending sky a pair of kites assume the pensive arc of commas giving due pause to the founting gulf of silence and daybreak.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged clouds, kites, poem, sado island, shrine, sky, temple, twilight | Leave a comment

Bone Jig

Posted on November 11, 2022 by John Biscello

My mother’s bones. My mother’s bones resounding in my ears piercing my eardrums. Death rattle of the dusty gourd. Of the earth’s grief calling to us to restore. Calling upon us to become wardens attendants to vibrations crossing passages. To … Continue reading →

Posted in Cinema, photography, Poetry, Prose | Tagged bones, dance, dead can dance, excerpt, Maya Deren, mother, novel in progress, Prose, story, the dead, twilight, words | Leave a comment

Slippers

Posted on July 2, 2022 by John Biscello

The world has become an enormous mouth. Or a senile teenager fumbling with a fire sale chemistry set. Silence, and solitude, arouse their favored ebb within the subtle gloam of twilight. Twilight is a meek and intrepid lover, an inscrutable … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged in praise of fading, poem, silence, sollitude, the soft life, twilight | Leave a comment

Twilight

Posted on June 30, 2022 by John Biscello

Twilight is seductively meek. Every day, at day’s end, it inherits the earth through valentine quivers and softcore volitions of symmetry— the sky, at its supple mercy, bruises so easily, pale liminal purple adoring the tenderest wounds between lovers merging … Continue reading →