We all should
Be so damn
Lucky
To die for the eyes
Of many

Taking
What is not granted
Often
As an exit
Preferred

Passing
While we are seen
In front
Of a world
Held captive

Where crowds
Go begging
That encore
As the ambulance
Hurries away

Like bare
And suggestive
Ends
Surrendering fate
As we challenge

What modesty
Hides
From the public
When tragedy
Falsely assumes

Happiness
Staying intact
Is remaining
Alive
For a reason

Rather
Than suffering
Agony
So the fallacy
Washes away

Clenching our chest
Out of grief
That we leave
Some dreams
Behind us

But excited
To meet such closure
Cause the halo
Waited
Too long

Hating God
For His game
And the ways
He chooses
To punish

Leaving
With crowds
Still cheering
Yet hopeful
Each loser
Wins.

– J. Pigno

God
I’m disappointed
But that doesnt mean
Ungrateful
When the anger
Casts its shadow
Over miracles
You made known

Through quiet
Introspection
Like light between
These phases
Of clouds which
Cover heavens
Hanging low
Above our heads

As angels
In our midst
Both big and small
With halos
Bear crosses
Barely witnessed
Carried daily
On their backs

Never
Asking why
But marching forth
Regardless
To claim how
Simple worship
Is often
Feeling pain

Aware
Such healing hurts
And believing
Every action
Is weight
To counterbalance
What evil lifts
Deceived

Forgetting
Feathers drift
And fail to keep us
Grounded
Where bricks
And other burdens
Allow our hearts
To see

Acknowledging
Each deed
Or stone
Applied as pressure
Moves one side
Toward greatness
To measure
Lessons learned

Convincing
Secret saints
Who suffer lives
So simple
Their scars don’t go
Unnoticed
But rather
Tip that scale.

– J. Pigno

Adults
Can’t help themselves
Any more
Than a child flounders
At neglect
Of abusive persons
Who believe tough love
Is not wrong

Like hatchlings
Perched in their nest
Begging for worms
Without answers
But silent chagrin
Of these parents
Insisting they forage
Alone

Impossible to even fix
Or imagine God
Has His reasons
With a knowledge
That’s long been
Determined
Since we’ve fallen far
From that tree

Yet close enough
To still grow
And break through ground
That’s left arid
By droughts
Of meaningful hardship
For life which begs
As a seed

Sprouting
Wings for a branch
And soaring high
Amidst canopies
Left unexplored
By their forebears
Too scared
To venture so tall

Among
Such towering peaks
And above
What limits restrain them
As they abandon
Homes within forests
Obscuring truth
From their sun

Learning
Flying is proof
How damage
Not always repeated
Assures their place
Throughout heavens
Better than dreams
Could have hoped

Letting pasts
Remain low
Grounded deep
Beneath timber
Under woods
That have no bearing
When accepting roots
Are a curse.

– J. Pigno

Get up and write
You son of a bitch
As if your life
Depends on it
Without fear
Or explanations
But purpose
To cleanse this soul

Venting
Demons held
From lies
And faulty questions
Too stupid
To seem simple
Like the reasons
People break

When voices
Grow insane
But cracks
Are worth exploring
What instants
Feel perpetual
Through circles
Chasing hope

As I search this day
Confused
Seeking prayers
Gone missing
Yet losing faith
To stubbornness
Or excuses
Built on time

Insisting
Choice is real
To conjure grief
So needless
In a fearful state
Unending
Like truths
I can’t ignore

With eyes
Toward endless space
Or the death
Between these margins
Mocking
Monsters waiting
Where hurt
Is an empty line

Between
This senseless phrase
And the need
To keep repeating
Such trauma cut
From impulse
Like statues
Deep in stone

For the worst words
I may claim
Are better
Than saying nothing

Biting tongues
Not gifted
But cursed
With an act of God.

– J. Pigno

Deception
Cuts these tails
To let such blood
Run rampant
Between subjects
Barely speaking
As if truth
Is always wrong

Clinched
Inside these prongs
From destinies
Thick as metal
Confined
Within each tether
Like victims
Of our tests

Bound
To final breaths
When wound
Around those fingers
Of forks
And pointed phrases
Exchanged
Through heated speech

On flesh
Of captured mice
Split
Like hairs unsettled
From wounds
Or open gashes
With damage
Clipped by words

Being
Just too real
For experiments
Meaning nothing
Argued as
Important
But lethal
As this space

Distance
Drawn of hate
With constructs
Of our masters
Which have us
Running circles
Along wheels
That stay in place

Cages
Making homes
Of frantic creatures
Begging
For wrong
And harsh instruction
Through windows
Nearly cracked

As they pounce
And worry sick
When blaming
Fellow inmates
Scared
Without accepting
Denial
Hurts them most.

– J. Pigno

Why do I try
And mend
What’s beautiful
For being broken
At request of a world
Less fortunate
Than ones
Who see past
Its shit?

Cause nothing
Worth playing God
Is normal
Or nearly straightforward
As fallacies
Lining our pathways
Towards endings
Less boring
Than sin,

Concluding
As we begin
Revving
Our hearts
Without answers
Or promise
Of stunning conclusions
Awaiting in skies
Getting dark

Where fireworks
Better appear
Than brightest days
Proving empty
Like clearest dreams
Missing dangers
Ruining
What fun
We could have –

Making mistakes
As we must
Losing control
As intended
Finding no hope
In such actions
But letting
That faith
Guide us back

Inscribing night
With those stars
Which glitter and spark
From our damage
Through explosions
Colorfully dancing
Like statements
We claim
When they burst

As destinies
Fallen apart
Raining choice
Out of heavens
Over lifetimes
Apparently wasted
On cinders
Left burning
With hurt.

That spark
Is never convinced
But assumes its gift
Is potential
For making light
Across bridges
Too crowded
To offer them
Space,

This needless whole
Unredeemed
Which hinders
Joy
Growing distant
Among those clouds
Hiding embers
Stealing words
While we write.

– J. Pigno

In fear of
My next death
Is the way I’m
Forced to live
When expecting
Each new moment
To become
That sudden last

Clenching
Near this chest
With an ache
Obscenely different
As the one
Which pains before it
And drives me
Raving mad

Diffuse
Without a trace
Or cause
I can establish
So vague
To keep me guessing
Where in doubt
I find some truth

Reaching
What they warned
Is the loss
Of keeping purpose
But achieving
Clearest freedom
By virtue
Of gaining none

Taking
That next step
Through romantic
Ideations
Of heroes
Seeking absence
As a remedy
To their ills

Claiming
Tragic ends
Are the pill
I’ve always needed
And embracing
Bravest monsters
Like the stones
We left unturned

For most
Could use real help
Despite their lies
Of protest
From smiles
Hiding secrets
No darkness
Ever speaks

Omission
By release
Of a blankness
Clearly stated
In the note
They leave adjacent
To the rope
Which swings alone

Silent
As that end
Which tells us
Almost nothing
Except this fact
They’ve bartered
With misery
Long enough

Troubled
By their Lord
As if they’ve been
Forgiven
But villified
Even after
Redemption
Takes its toll.

Yes I’ve waited
Long enough
For that chance
To fake abandon
So don’t mind me
If I wallow
In these symptoms
Even more –

While they make
The greatest sense
To people
Always grieving
Such comfort
Through their worship
Is the hurt
Which never tells,

Agony
Playing games
With the heart
Of those bear it
And prayers
A blessed suicide
For the body
Breaking down

Believing
Every choice
Is an answer
Not exclusive
To the fate
That’s predetermined
Of a rest
Which has no peace.

– J. Pigno