Tag Archives: words

Feast

Posted on December 22, 2020 by John Biscello

Every utterance, meat and bone in a mutable feast, in which you, as chef and patron alike, come to understand the nature of appetite in relation to words seasoned for infinite digestion.

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Into the Blue

Posted on December 22, 2020 by John Biscello

I have been scratching at air since I was a child, and have had the good fortune of feeling into words that have fallen out of thin blue nowhere– And these words I have gathered, or to put it more … Continue reading →

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Chekhov and the Cat

Posted on November 13, 2020 by John Biscello

“The longer a poem, the weaker the impression that it has been dictated from above: Heaven is not verbose.  The more you talk, the more you lie.”–Vera Pavlova When I am overly verbose, I am trying to convince myself, or … Continue reading →

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Words, Silence, Music

Posted on November 10, 2020 by John Biscello

“Therefore, speak, speak at any price, say no matter what, since all words have equal value and all say the same thing, all repeat tirelessly the same call for help.” — Samuel Beckett If we are to take Mister Beckett … Continue reading →

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Naming Desire

Posted on October 29, 2020 by John Biscello

Whoever I am, I have always depended on the kindness of words– such strange company, these solitary verses.

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This Word’s Life

Posted on August 31, 2020 by John Biscello

Words are wonderfully illegitimate and unhurried placeholders for psychic disturbances and vagrant quandaries. To frame it differently– Using a broken compass to navigate through a paper town on a vintage red bicycle is, in itself, immaculate. Words, in other words, … Continue reading →

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Vertigo, Uncut

Posted on December 2, 2018 by John Biscello

He understood that to unhook stars you sometimes had to stand on tall buildings. Really tall buildings. Vertigo was reflected back to him, bigtime.  

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Boy

Posted on July 28, 2018 by John Biscello

I am a young boy, fated to innocence, walking through the lavender mist of Time’s softly slipped dream, every grain of sand a stitch in the marvel of kingdom’s comely veil.

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Eye of the Tongue

Posted on June 26, 2018 by John Biscello

Will I run out of words before her mouth reaches mine and exhumes my distance? Tongues are such funny bridges.

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Wordburn

Posted on June 17, 2018 by John Biscello

Between the call of bodies, testing the ream of vocabulary’s limits, words exact their talent for slow burn, and quicken to replenish.

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