The honor
In not being heard
Is acceptance
Of feeling irrelevant
And bestowed with guilt
Out of willingness
To not matter much
Though I try

Until poetry
Never quite falls
Like miraculous stars
Become lazy
Now seized by hands
After hitting
That ground so old
Losing worth

Searching sands
For remnants intact
Where soulless rocks
Replace meteors
Which once held truths
Shining brighter
Than their nightly skies
Grown obscured

Over deserts
That widen from age
Fearing empty dunes
Replace meaning
Or cavernous holes
Consume pretense
In an honest maw
Lacking voice

When few ears
Are listening still
Though some eyes
Catch glimpses apparent
But are often missed
Despite staring
Beyond endless voids
Seeming vague

Unless living
Such subtle defeat
Under open words
Hiding chasms
How this visible rift
Left between them
Has always been
So ignored.

• J. Pigno

Yes it’s true
How demons exist
Despite how much
We refuse this
Still until our sleep
Sees them dancing
With a skeleton’s arm
Holding tight

Felt around each waist
As we waltz
Much realer than day
Could imagine
Where night brings truth
Even stranger
Facing faithless crawls
Fear performs

When begging for God
To be wrong
And removed from view
Though uncertain
How any such soul
Remains sacred
Missing countless threats
Every turn

Like an illness
Creeping through skin
Underneath what flesh
Appears sinful
But is really sad
Seeking answers
Placing orders now
Buying peace

Finding joy online
Growing numb
By effortless tasks
After working
Making nothing again
Getting tired
Just living alone
Needing rest

Learning devils
Disintegrate dreams
Killing hopeful thoughts
While they happen
During evenings
Waking up screaming
Heaven’s lies
Will always forget.

• J. Pigno

Long gone
Are the days of Dylan
When records
Would spin so eternal,

Hearing words foretold
By lost prophets
Whose poetry dies
With that dream –

A distinguished cause
Come undone
Thinking worlds could stop
From such singing,

Fearing soon
Most never will listen
Despite sounding good
As it fails

How this audience
Learned to ignore
Each meticulous line
Spelling visions

After youths spent wrong
Feigning interest
Growing hard inside
Chasing work.

Now bohemians
Hide behind jobs
Or appear insane
Growing sicker,

Fighting empty lives
Still suppressing
What our vinyl
Preached all before –

True resistance
Falling on art
Through deliberate acts
Seeming crazy,

Like adulthood
Murdered in progress
Since maturity
Gave nothing back.

For nostalgia
Carries much more
Than reality claims
Being present,

Playing anthems
Yesterday offers
Once again
Until we feel whole.

• J. Pigno

Here comes
Another bad year
As the hands of time
Always tremble
At what shattered wish
Seems determined
Like potential change
Never sought

Or old promises
Feeling so new
Until that plan
Meets our mirrors
Where each limit waits
Staring blankly
Still back towards those
Showing age

Since breaking that glass
Over clocks
Replaced by eyes
On straight faces
Hiding sickness
Behind every smile
Knowing destiny
Coughs when it must

Letting tragedy
Settle us down
Holding weddings
Or having some babies
Watching pain rust souls
Getting older
Not happier
Though they protest

Missing youth
And freedom unknown
While tomorrow’s debt
Grows uncertain
Though elusive
Beneath better bodies
Seeking chances still
To escape

For bohemian dreams
Are just thoughts
Hidden in sleep
Hearing exes
Telling you once
About poems
Being everything wrong
Until now.

• J. Pigno

I am nothing
Without what is said
In this flowing phrase
Effervescent
As a stream which moves
Against meaning
Too empty for souls
Who can swim

Like waters alive
From belief
And deliberate dreams
Merely pushing
Through bubbling joys
So inspired
By our sparkling hopes
Fighting back

Still despite how fear
Trickles down
Where gravity pulls
Easy currents
Soon following brooks
Along hillsides
Even God must climb
Needing help

Till our art comes close
Floating near
High above those rocks
Weighing heavy
Always blocking verse
Aiming upwards
Since poetry treads
Seeking truths

Using beauty
Defying that lie
When ascending heights
Seeming natural
If such steep inclines
Present obstacles
Only honest words
Could resist

Like cascading tears
Which reverse
Turning every fall
Into evidence
Of divine intent
We’re expressing
While creation
Does all the rest.

• J. Pigno

I’ve choked on dreams
Never known
And the joy which sits
Undigested
Inside this cell
Called existence
Where prisoners keep
Eating well

Like happier times
Feeling full
Though hardly blessed
From experience
Through nauseous days
Still repeating
Until poison truths
Get thrown up

When honest knives
Going down
Chew organs whole
Tearing bellies
Having stomachs hold
Heavy metals
By swallowing hurt
We can taste

Still surviving
Trying too hard
By ignoring pain
Nearly constant
Always fearing food
Seeming threatened
As our death ensues
Every meal

But meaningless now
Breaking bread
Or sharing scraps
Purely futile
While God Himself
Appears gluttonous
If enjoying saints
Being starved

Until iron guts
Spill their wills
Now poetic words
Become bile
With abdominal cramps
Almost sacred
Letting ulcers speak
Once again.

• J. Pigno

I recall
The last perfect picture
Which sits all alone
On my dresser

Taken back when
Our experience
Was something enjoyed
Not endured,

As time spent now
Seems encumbered
By these heavier days
Still before us

Where each memory
Wanes ever slowly
Like their innocence lost
While we age

And sickness reigns
Over thoughts
Soon tainted again
Feeling symptoms,

Letting sadness
Stifle such purity
Since that suffering
Mocks all belief –

One true moment
Framed long ago
In Florida’s sun
Seeing castles,

Forgetting how fake
An appearance
Could hardly wreck
What was real,

This genuine hope
Finally found
Between two old souls
Growing jaded

But kids at heart
Needing happiness
Just one last chance
Will provide.

Perhaps promises
Never can break
If intention stays
Despite fading,

Deliberately sworn
Over snapshots
Always waiting again
For your tears.

• J. Pigno

This time of year
Brings a chill
Which chances fate
Growing colder
Like the days gone dark
Even faster
And that threat
Of perpetual night

With our memories
Rattled again
By each failing sun
Become frigid
Behind empty clouds
Almost shapeless
Until desperate eyes
Slowly stare

At what sky
Bears monstrous forms
Soon resembling pain
Still existing
High above those trees
Dimly glowing
Holding snowflakes
Hiding such fears

Now lit once more
Over gifts
Through glittering orbs
Feigning meaning
While appearing bright
Almost always
To distract from lies
Underneath

Where death sells life
Feeling tied
Around ribbons torn
Being opened
Between branches hot
Catching fire
Getting so damn burnt
Every time

If unwrapping bows
Keeping knots
Losing random truths
Never spoken
Turning teardrops
Into these holidays
Most probably wrong
Though we try.

• J. Pigno

I believe
It’s just a bad gamble
To spend one’s time
By a purpose

Which shows no proof
Of existing
When suffering wins
Every day –

Now the constant
Greater than death
Through survival
Failed after trying

While acknowledging
Faith never matters
If hope means
Helping ourselves

Since God alone
Never cares
Or perhaps can’t show
How He’s fighting

Behind these scenes
Growing darker
Where easy ways out
Have appeal,

Like an illness
Taking us down
And eating what’s left
We remember

Though starved inside
For such beauty
Only art somehow
Still provides.

That true poetry
Never will cease
As long as breath
May imbue me

With feelings pain
Does encourage
Through experience
Humans endure.

All vocations
Must disappoint
Holding empty roles
People squander.

Their ambition kills
Real intention
Rolling dice
On passionless dreams.

• J. Pigno