Tag Archives: void

Daybreak

Posted on November 30, 2025 by John Biscello

We forget vividly. Absence glares and ghosts inwardly, a brutal slate of charged pixels. We find ourselves shrinking and recoiling in the hospitable siege of light—projecting, wanting, myopic as the day is long. We question ourselves. We are changed. How? … 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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Alone-In

Posted on February 19, 2025 by John Biscello

She grew infintely wet, a throbbing void and pulsing slate of Braille and intent– subletting, by touch, urgent spells of hunger to a silent fast.

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Prints

Posted on November 17, 2022 by John Biscello

We slip through our own fingers in bluest forget-me-nots, and keep on slipping wondering where the falling leads. Artwork by Chua Ek Kay

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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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All Fours

Posted on November 10, 2022 by John Biscello

We are out here on all fours panting in the sun the bleary merciless maraschino sun burning us. It has been a long while one of those spells that feels foreverish out here in these fields unseen dreaming of god … Continue reading →

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Void and Nil

Posted on May 23, 2022 by John Biscello

Evie laughed to herself. It was just acting. Then again, she often did have trouble determining where she ended and someone else began. She wasn’t sure if this was a side-effect to acting, or to existing. Or if there was … Continue reading →

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Storytelling

Posted on October 28, 2020 by John Biscello

Void is boring, a dull throb. It has no stories to tell. And yet, from the gaping orient of emptiness arises every story imaginable, a turning to peaks and sea-changes galore. It seems void is the company we are destined … Continue reading →

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Tread Softly

Posted on June 25, 2018 by John Biscello

I like them damaged, closer to real, the marrow in the blue void that seals hymns airtight, narrow interior dancing the hips and thighs to the gospel according to arson, the smolder and bake of flame-twisted wicks, I like where … Continue reading →

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Salome Remixed

Posted on October 18, 2017 by John Biscello

Play of light on void, shimmering veils seduce Fate– weight of woman scorned.

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