There is no pride
Always running
Despite how life
Will expire
Towards our certain end
Feeling selfish
Like having dreams
So unfair

For escaping death
While they last
In an endless race
Chasing smiles
During futile sprints
Gaining nothing
But miles between
Empty bliss

That promise relief
Never close
Even when sought
Very briefly
Just barely caught
Between moments
Finding this breath
Being held

And gasping still
Wearing out
From constant lengths
Getting trampled
Under tired feet
Losing traction
Where faith now slips
Underfoot

Wishing God can save
Beating hearts
If those rhythms break
Seeking solace
Across soulless days
Hardly savored
Discovering peace
Far too late

Letting humans waste
Learning not
How their own pursuits
Nearly kill us
But accepting fate
As survival
Competing against
Heaven’s clock.

• J. Pigno

Maybe this phase
Will soon dwindle
Since they say
Such pain is expected
After traumas like ours
Have proved nothing
But how time itself
Doesn’t heal

When warnings alone
Can’t prepare
Every single heart
From that damage
Which comes so fast
Upon hearing
That an illness looms
Overhead

Still stealing this hope
Out of morning
Through clouding blue skies
Despite trying
More failed attempts
At pretending
Some light remains
Close enough

If perhaps
We can figure things out
Merely wishing today
Held real sunshine
While raindrops crash
Against windows
Only you and me
Can now see

Where each empty wish
Demands sadness
Be put aside
For fake smiles
Just shown near those
Still believing
How normalcy waits
Soon beyond

What forever fate
God has written
Though His characters
Always will suffer
Whether good or bad
In their outcomes
Knowing innocence
Cannot return.

• J. Pigno

It makes sense
Things would end like this
On a 3 AM ride
Into silence
Down hallways dim
Growing longer
Hearing wheelchairs squeak
Underfoot

Where our quiet descent
Watching numbers
Allows more room
For my fearing
Of atomic gods
Which await me
As they count each floor
Towards despair

Even knowing mom’s there
Being tortured
Never falling asleep
While I’m missing
Besides that bed
Barely resting
Just seeing her kid
Fall apart

Yet knowing how age
Can’t sustain us
Or tomorrow’s grief
Remains looming
Since your only son
Was too fragile
For those harshest truths
Always sad

In their lives gone wrong
Without notice
During hopeful strength
Getting tested
Since they scan him now
Lacking purpose
Other than faith
Feeling hurt

By doubting God
Through his pain
Down corridors lost
Facing questions
No symptoms ask
Seeking answers
Finding nothing
But worlds come apart.

• J. Pigno

I’m afraid
There is no help
While we race
To remain in existence
If seeking true peace
Without costing
Another day gone
Staying safe

Or keeping away
From each danger
Such doctors persuade
Aren’t useless
Like medicines made
For believing
Our death won’t come
Though it does

But expecting God
Intervenes
When eternity’s wrath
Still awaits us
From suicides done
Without knowledge
Yet jumping off cliffs
Never seen

As these pills indulge
Every horror
Some souls would choose
Begging freedom
Unless constant tasks
Will await them
Outside those lies
They are told

Since needing prayers
Now disguised
Contained inside
Written stories
And poems sung loud
Over orders
Barked by crooks
Claiming aid

Healing nothing
Besides empty shells
Knowing pictures fade
Despite painting
Upon layers left
After artists
Lose much worth
Running scared.

• J. Pigno

Every day
We’re questioning God
Despite miracles
Under our noses
As work itself
Has us asking
What labor is worth
Certain proof

Of immaculate truths
Still unknown
In this ether lost
Between moments
Spent toiling hard
Without question
But demanding faith
As reward

Since believing cash
Offers choice
When further needs
Remain constant
While pursuing dreams
Unenlightened
By repeated tasks
So absurd

That entire lives
Nearly pass
Through delirious years
Seeking answers
Unabashedly dull
Despite torment
Their addictive drug
Begging use

Where expecting fear
Remains safe
On these circular rides
Towards extinction
If agreeing hope
Keeps ignoring
Such dire turns
Pain avoids

Until empty jobs
Approach death
Being far too late
For excuses
After sickness comes
Facing weariness
Employed by lies
Hate assures.

• J. Pigno

If only all souls
Could speak
At the dawn which peers
After hours
Over one last night
Chasing candles
Whose embers pave
Certain paths

Where children walk
Trading candy
While parents laugh
And remember
Each year soon gone
Wearing costumes
Smelling fallen leaves
Underfoot

With their misty scent
Wafting gently
Across silent streets
Upon morning
Reserved for prayers
Feeling solemn
As soon Halloween turns
Into day

When church bells ring
Through such vapor
Seeing fog itself
Carry meaning
Letting grayness call
Every specter
Always thought long dead
Deep inside

Now alive once more
Through our memory
Or perhaps that dream
Never ending
Which saddens those
Merely sleeping
To forget how faith
Loses breath

Much how time
Rarely eases
What this autumn air
Reinforces
By such frigid wind
Building faster
As November wakes
Though we yawn.

• J. Pigno

There is poetry
Missing in action
While enduring life
As it comes
With each flagrant truth
Feeling stifled
Like a voice unheard
From afar

When whispered gifts
On the wind
Losing memories
Fleetingly joyous
Let their transient hopes
Kindle embers 
Like an angry flame
Needing cause

Near those distant cliffs
Where we leap
Upon growing numb
Getting older
Still beckoning words
For our killing
Into raging hells
Seeking God

Or at least some pain
So they burn
Like surrounding trees
Dropping branches
Now scattering ash
Across forests
Once beautiful woods
Standing tall

Wasting autumn
Facing man’s blaze
Charring colorful leaves
Hiding gospel
Under canopies
Inspiring greatness
But ignoring art
Before death

Always absent
After this match
Lights that single spark
Knowing meaning
Inherently bold
Outside nature
Defeats what muse
Seasons bring.

• J. Pigno

I’m still on the verge
Of crying
Just thinking of how
We all suffer
In hospital beds
Merely waiting
For our ending
Fate will assure

Is a tragic boast
Before death
Always claiming
Fear has rewritten
Each legacy left
Upon gurneys
Soon scarred from wounds
Time admits

Can proudly kill
Every joy
By obscuring life
Beneath illness
If sadly reached
Seeking memories
Inevitably
Faded with age

Like long lost reels
Being burned
Or shallow breaths
Breaking silence
When dialogue once
Had its purpose
But instead finds mouths
Missing voice

Wishing stories
Just weren’t so sad
For each starring soul
Facing torment
That’s promised one chance
At achieving
Before credits should roll
Going black

When infirmaries
Hide every trace
If God Himself
Might continue
Beyond these walls
Shooting movies
And their blankness
Echoing beeps.

• J. Pigno

Every sleep
Has another bad dream
From which I am roused
Feeling desperate,

Being panicked about
Seeing monsters
Some might agree
Appear real

In that theater
Of possible deaths

Accompanying screams
Between bedsheets

While sweating so much
After watching
These horrible scenes
On repeat –

Where bodies alone
Remain lifeless,

And emptier souls
Wander mansions

Our frantic brains
Keep escaping
Like fears unknown
Deep inside,

When killers set loose
Pursue meaning
Through darkened halls
Hiding demons

Laughing at prayers
Stealing promise
From each short breath
Calling God

As shadows will lunge
Even speaking
Christ’s good name
Growing doubtful

Unexpectedly lost
Despite seeking
Another way out
Besides faith.

Such terror exists
Beyond nightmares
Plaguing my thoughts
Always worried

How tomorrow’s dawn
Implies doctors
Or hospital stays
Without end –

More torture
Stalking each sleep
Like a symptom’s threat
Chasing wishes

For the peacefulness
Never experienced
Leaving behind
What is cursed.

Morning still comes
Ever hopeless,

Having lingering pain
Merely looming

Over throbbing eyes
Now defeated

By waking up sick
Once again.

• J. Pigno

I deserve this pain
As it comes
From failing to claim
Every moment
Where agony waits
Without patience
While happiness takes
Fewer turns

Than our suffering
Growing content
After weeks spent now
Finding answers
Never worth their weight
In successes
Overshadowed by fear
Feeling tough

When symptoms last
Beyond stretches
Like grieving wounds
Getting better
But crying still
Through their bleeding
Along each cut
Left behind

The surgeon made
Playing God
Believing hope
Was his hubris
Or your judgment calls
Choosing torture
To avoid real death
Through short hell

Not knowing what’s true
Looking white
On tables cold
Seeking heaven
Only finding knives
Despite angels
Now guiding his hands
Making holes

Until constant beeps
Open eyes
Soon waking up
Merely praying
That devil we chose
Was worth sinning
Though my penance
Just cannot agree.

• J. Pigno