Tag Archives: voices

In the Dark

Posted on November 30, 2022 by John Biscello
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Lasting Born

Posted on November 28, 2022 by John Biscello
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Storytellers

Posted on November 23, 2022 by John Biscello
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Lemon

Posted on November 23, 2022 by John Biscello

I don’t tell him there is no such thing as Claudia Lemon, she’s invented, he knows nothing about Clarise Lermontov, my ghost, my first country, there is no Clarise, only Claudia Lemon,  and there is the young girl who loved … Continue reading →

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Birthing Slivers

Posted on November 21, 2022 by John Biscello

She came to me when I was a child. Let’s say when I was two, no three. She came to me when I was three. That is me, aged three, centuries ago, someone else’s tears crystallized into this frail pulsing … Continue reading →

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Doll

Posted on November 18, 2022 by John Biscello

Nineteen rifles and the village was burned to the ground nineteen rifles stolen by rebels and then came the awful burning down what was called scorched earth policy. My mother my father my brother were burned down to the ground … Continue reading →

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Time after Time

Posted on November 17, 2022 by John Biscello

When and where time goes unrecognized there is a beautiful purposeless freeze, the swiftness of eternity so swift there is no race at all, no motion, just music, which is why shakespeare urged one and all to play on, why … Continue reading →

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In Our Solitude

Posted on November 17, 2022 by John Biscello

Near to the bones of warming solitude. Within vagrancy’s timelocked spells we wander you could say we are wanderstruck. Modes of lyrical living allows us to bask in living alone in the company of words stories voices. For them we … Continue reading →

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Company of Echoes

Posted on November 17, 2022 by John Biscello

Near to the bones of warming solitude we wildly graze. We are out here in this place where our vagrancies are enabled by the mass grace of words stories voices that roots us home. At home with solitude we are … Continue reading →

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Cameo

Posted on November 16, 2022 by John Biscello

Our lot is a sorry one also blessed. None of us object. Out here we feast on slimming heaps of gratitude. No one is greedy. No one complains. We no longer expect answers from the answerless even though we keep … Continue reading →

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