Tag Archives: words

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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Pirate Radio

Posted on November 13, 2025 by John Biscello

   Hips don’t lie. They are the truth-telling giants and the whistle-blowers transmitting through pirate radio. They are also the catacombs and weather satellites of one’s cumulative genealogy. When an old person falls and breaks their hip, it is not … Continue reading →

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Gremlins

Posted on November 13, 2025 by John Biscello

   I can no longer remember where I was when it happened, only that it happened, it must have happened. Sometimes we cry silent recordings in our bones, or guts, or maybe it is our hips that are the primary … Continue reading →

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Process and Zeitgeist

Posted on November 6, 2025 by John Biscello

It was what Crowfeather called the Blue Star ceremony, or Above Air ceremony. It took place on Winter Solstice 2020. It wad during the enigmatic, unsettling and ominous period of COVID, the virus that was upsetting the balance of the … Continue reading →

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Furies in Chaos

Posted on November 2, 2025 by John Biscello

Candice Louisa Daquin’s insightful review of The Last Furies published in the November issue of Synchronized Chaos (an interdisciplinary journal of art, music, culture, science, and literature). Excerpt from the review: “Viola felt as if she were watching a scene … Continue reading →

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Manna

Posted on October 14, 2025 by John Biscello

Do not say the thing that is easily said. Say the other, say the nothing, say the silence, say the unsayable, and save yourself (sort of) through the saying. Gold dust wafts down like filigreed motes from a rain-swollen ceiling. … Continue reading →

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Scraps

Posted on October 14, 2025 by John Biscello

Each one of us are curating our own reality, our own collections. Philosophy is a crooked thumb trying to hitch a lift to the stars. I listen to the wind sing, but can’t understand the words. The No Trespassing sign … Continue reading →

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In th Shadow of Words

Posted on October 10, 2025 by John Biscello

Photos courtesy of Paul O’ Connor, from last night’s book launch of The Last Furies.

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Moratorium

Posted on September 17, 2025 by John Biscello

I. Beckett spoke about it: the inability to keep quiet. The incapacity to not say stories, not write stories, not place oneself inside stories in which you make and unmake and remake yourself endlessly, an orgy of particles constellating jittery … Continue reading →

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Hips

Posted on September 16, 2025 by John Biscello

I can no longer remember where I was when it happened, only that it happened, it must have happened. Sometimes we cry silent recordings in our bones, or guts, or maybe it is our hips that are the primary storehouses … Continue reading →

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