Tonight
This window is cracked
So the passing winds
Which keep blowing
Across tired streets
Can remind me
That life still exists
During sleep

In a room
Only lighted by screens

Whether phones
Or movies on silent

Left playing
For reasons uncertain
Other than fearing
My pulse,

And taking it
Numerous times

Though trying real hard
To stay focused

Beyond symptoms
Keeping things stirring
Like updates
Speaking of war

Such darkness
Eerily states
When flashed across
Silent devices
Between fingers
Fumbling keyboards
Searching out news
Always bad –

Still nervously
Pacing these floors
Dragging both feet
Along carpet,

Just fearing that death
Soon expected
While missiles
Explode overseas

Since heartbeats
Echo those drums
Declaring disputes
More erratic
Than peacefulness
Ravaged internally
I am scared
Will never return.

• J. Pigno

Dani,
Please take them away –

These feelings which
Persist into nausea,

Sweet nothingness
Swelling like vomit
In the pit of this chest
Losing air.

Find me relief
If you will,

One doctor whose words
Aren’t judgment –

Another day out
Without worry,

Not time spent
Further apart,

To keep smiling
Under those masks
For the sake of our vow
Always tested
During eras consumed
By pure evil
And symptoms my mind
Can’t control.

Or is it my heart
Skipping beats?

My lungs missing breath
Without answers?

Are these ailments real
Beyond fearing
That end which looms
For us all?

My life is now raw
To the touch,

But your own
Can save it from burning,

By applying that love
God has given,

Still believing
All grief is a cure.

I must kiss you
Now while I can,
So remind me
By laying down gently –

Next to me
Adjacent as always,

Before our world
Grew insane.

• J. Pigno

I pull at this
Tangling thread,

Like a line which
Slowly unravels,

And believe each edge
To be different

Despite knowing
That string is the same –

An imbalance
Perceived by deceit
My abrasive thoughts
Keep repeating

How sandpaper rubs
Against metal
While withering down
Over time,

With lopsided views
From one end
Through tightening knots
I’ve imagined
Behind choking eyes
Falling victim
To tears they cough
Losing grip.

These matters
No mind should endure
Make sense
Around fleeting obsessions,

Arrogant needs
Loosely settled
When fixating long
Under lights –

Following threats
So benign
Even tethered hearts
Never notice
Those ropes between hands
Making gestures
Just begging their help
As we pick

In mirrors
Still seeing mistakes,

Arguing truth
Has its questions,

If flaws must show
Despite trying

Almost everything wrong
For relief.

• J. Pigno

Every deed
We witness in daylight
Has counterparts
Equally shadowed

And incentives
Dancing like spiders
From projections
Selfishly shaped

During nights
Spent gloating alone
Behind closed doors
Always working

Where walls see curves
Without question
Across empty space
Filling cracks –

Such darkened lines
Taking form
When sins themselves
Lacking filter

Draw souls
Defined by obsession
Over broken lies
Need creates.

These villains
Believing success
Tout sickness
They call motivation,

Taught all their lives
Through example
Trusting promises
Borrowed on fear

Though never fulfilled
While aware
Or trying so hard
There is meaning

Despite learning
Fixations will murder
Any moral
Worth trusting before.

Real heroes
Don’t get those rewards
Yet innately know
They must suffer,

Just wasting this time
For experience
Among God’s gifts
Truly free –

An unsaid grace
Breath implies
Beneath quiet skies
Sharing whispers,

Telling awesome tales
About rescues
Along bumpy roads
Faith agrees

Keeps worship
Appropriately placed
Between humble trails
Often taken –

Rarely mocked
Since public exposure
Appears tougher
Than obscurity shares.

• J. Pigno

There is an absence
Fear cannot fathom
Until that hole
Gets torn open,

When the space itself
Becomes meaning
And emptiness
Assures you of faith –

A heaven in loss
Merely waiting
After hope falls through
Chasing freedom,

Like wishes fulfilled
Despite failure
To determine today
As some gift

Or God’s bad dream
Always playing
Behind those eyes
Missing chances

For surrendering sleep
Wasting nightmares
Divinely instilled
By that fate.

Our choice
Finds agony ripe
On vines long hung
Over pleasure,

With nothing at stake
Beyond living
Among lazier souls
Left at home –

Those saddened minds
Taking breaks
Between phone calls
Friends never answer,

Drawing peace
While exhaling such anguish
Through breaths so short
From unrest

Upon pages blank
Needing pictures
Where memories
Assemble their puzzle

Across margins
Poems should bury
Beneath blotted truths
Disarranged.

These words
Are messy relief
Yielding solace
Veiled amid clutter,

Seeking company
Dead despite speaking
Off immortal lines
Believed flawed –

All lonely liars
Descend
Ink’s shadowy pit
Hiding mirrors,

Since reflections
Offer them purpose
Being idle
Yet oddly engaged.

• J. Pigno

We avoided
The runaway rains
Which poured down hills
Over sidewalks

Collecting in pools
Below houses
Where foundations sank
Underground,

As their deluge drowned
Every remnant
Those cellars hid
Beneath footsteps

Of lives long past
Getting muddied
And swallowing tears
God had shed –

Like ships on land
Overturned
When artifacts lost
Become relics,

Knowing basements hold
Filling memories
With waters
Darkened from sin.

Our legacies
Will never preserve
What nature’s wrath
Has deemed frivolous –

Random objects
Strewn among puddles,
Now sentimental junk
Gone to waste.

I can’t escape
Being submerged,
Only knowing
How time sinks slowly,

Always learning
Escape is impossible
While watching
My past out at sea.

So belief
Through disastrous fate
Means uncovering clocks
Found broken –

Behind glass
Hope completely shattered,
Stopped for good
After surges subside.

• J. Pigno

I believe this plan
Is intended
To break our world
Farther apart,

Allowing fears
Now accepted
As an ordinary pain
We must face –

Avoidable death
Giving warnings
Despite policies
Inching us closer,

A strategy made
From neglecting
What normalcy
Meant all along.

That’s how leaders
Persuade,
Following trends
Which will teeter

On uneven points
Tipping over
Into open holes
We could fill.

It’s obscene
Though easily fixed,
Often failed
Yet rarely attempted

Since ignorance
Offers such excess
Taught like prayers
In their schools –

The answer
Was never relief
But falling down
When we notice

Earth swaying
Still getting things dizzy,
Always ready
For another decline.

Business exploits
Every angle
Where profits explode
Through obsession.

Progress implies
Little details
Of disasters born
From success.

• J. Pigno

“View yourself the way
God sees you.”

That’s what my wife
Often preaches,

But accepting my soul
Isn’t comfort.

Actually,
It hurts even more.

She thinks heaven
Can challenge these lies
About worth
Or success too elusive
And fleeting like days
I have squandered
Finding wisdom in pain
Now instead –

These remembered wars
I endured
With multiple lives
Long behind me,

And people I loved
Among memories
Haunting each dream
I’d forget

When the hurt would build
During nights
Such unfortunate ghosts
Turn upon me,

Creeping through thoughts
Writing verses
Without paper or pen
At my side.

Quietly,
I suffer my sins,

Feeling symptoms
Consuming this body –

Eating at faith
Always trying
To fight those deaths
Coming soon.

They tell me
My mind is to blame,

Mere anxiety,
Just nerves without courage –

Sensitivity,
An acquired weakness
From believing this world
Murders hope.

Can anyone prove
That it won’t-

Killer plagues
And racists in power,

Capitalist pigs
Selling answers
Even Satan himself
Thinks are wrong?

They exploit us
With every exam,

Our doctor’s touch
Silent judgment

Against fearful hearts
Growing desperate

Facing demons
Blamed somehow on them.

I’m numbered,
A person made sick –

Begging for help
Where aid falters,

Hearing loved ones
Criticize blindly
As breathing
Gets harder each time.

What’s left
Is no vote of confidence,

Letting parents
And friends I call strangers

Mock this man
Still childlike –

Penniless,
Sexless, and numb.

I guess that means
Being beaten
Is the man upstair’s
Way of healing –

Through His graces
Reminding me daily
Some dumb words
Shouldn’t be said.

Poems
Are my last attempt
At finding air
Despite choking.

After all,
Many have told me
I’m not an “emotionally
healthy guy.”

• J. Pigno

Somehow
You became that dad
All of us thought
Was just fiction –

The man who hid
Behind cameras
For a laugh
When his cover was blown,

Seeing families at home
Watching still
Long after that tape
Had been rolling

Over years now
Making us smile
Through cliched lines
Turning true.

Every joke
Had hinted beliefs,

Despite first
Appearing too raunchy,

In better days
Bringing real laughter
Like Friday nights
Watching Bob’s show –

Where commercials
Seemed so unimportant
Comparing such words
Shared between them

Among kids,

Amid relatives gathered,

Gaining morals
From this guy who’d pretend.

Perhaps it honestly
Wasn’t an act,

Mostly shtick
Held tightly together
By these genuine threads
Still connecting
Every viewer grown up
With your name.

I imagine
Heaven’s studio audience
Live before God
Getting ready,

Awaiting those gags
Always filthy,

But soon
Hearing wisdom instead.

• J. Pigno

*Author’s note: This is technically a repost of a poem I initially didn’t feel ready to share. I finally found the courage to permanently blog it (a special thanks to Kae for motivating me). Hopefully, this inspires others to do the same with their own art. Let go of the shame, guilt, and self-hate. Love is all we got in this crazy world that’s on the brink. – Jon

My father
Insists I am useless,

To which my reply
Is silence –

For his truth
Warrants never responding
Proving failure
Has followed these words:

Shitty poems
Which no one will read,

And feats
I can barely accomplish,

Like jobs not held
Blaming laziness
Letting nervousness
Define all life.

I often believe
Work is sin
Since trying too hard
Remains futile
When breathing itself
Becomes painful
And worrisome
Knowing death waits.

But craziness
Always agrees,

For success deludes
Our perceptions
Most normal folk use
Leaving legacies
Better spent now
Than secure.

Perhaps I’m inane
As they say,

An amateur
Displaying less talent
Than any dumb jerk
Sharing verses
Where a million posts
Go unseen.

People should love
Something real,

Well another man
Telling sad stories
Wishes God were here
Right besides him
As he narrates days
On his phone,

Between moments
Such shouting subsides

When the house settles down
Before sleeping

Each night while lights
Shine their radiance
Over darkened halls
Sighting ghosts

Under Christmas trees
Hanging too low

Among empty gifts
Wrapped in boxes

As if presents alone
Imply meaning
Despite what’s inside
Getting lost.

Phantoms wail
Those collective sighs
Before morning comes
Bearing witness
To mounting woes
I’ve collected
Just running away
With my thoughts.

I’m a child
Who has gotten too old

Wasting cash
With pretty expressions

Of a time long gone
Like the holidays
When family and friends
Were still here.

This must be
Fate obsolete –

An existence caught
Amid pauses.

Hopeless, dad,
Like you called me.

How the hell
Does my wife even stay?

• J. Pigno