All
The wrong ones
Reign

For their bow
Or grandest
Gesture

To preserve
Such fragile
Egos

Like glass
Which always
Breaks

And reminds us
Love
Won’t wait

For that gold
With diamond
Chalice

Still holding
Wine
Transparent

As this
Monarch
Taking sips-

Proving
Some might
Claim

How their liquor
Seems
Sufficient

When believing
Crown
And crystal

Are a worthy
Gauge
Of cause,

But our grail
Of honest
Kings

Still cracked
From being
Decent

Abounds
Where drops
And torment

For the sake
Of keeping
Dust

Lays sacred
In its
Vase

So the poor
May have
Their supper

Or a chance
At finding
Glory

Near this well
As dry
As bone

From a leader
Proud
Yet parched

Who preys
On weakest
Servants

Quenched
By tears
Of nothings

Contained
Within his
Grasp.

God
Where God
Is man

And stone
For those
Who question

Yet flesh
As much
As many

Who walk
This kingdom
Come.

– J. Pigno

It’s terrible
How we destroy
Without effort
Or even
Perceiving

These smallest
Creatures among us
Whose existence
Proves
We are wrong

When swerving away
Though they run
Hitting some blind
As they
Scramble

Across roads
Which kill them
Regardless
Of the steps we take
To avoid

What sin
Does inevitably last
By virtue
Of us
Merely knowing

That cars
Are a weapon
Indifferent
To a scenery
Teeming with God

Littered like trash
Or a bag
On trees
Which catch us
Admitting

Such thoughts
Are a selfish
Prediction
Of a fate we’ve sealed
In our rush

Toward progress
Vapid and null
As that empty
Dream
We’re pursuing

Disturbing birds
While they chirrup
From nests
Knocked down
For a house

Displacing lives
Among waste
Where our futures sit
Near this
Footprint

Of tire tracks
Bloodied and careless
On our way
To work
Where we speed.

– J. Pigno

I figure
The truth
Speaks better
Than pretending
Pain isn’t
Real

But that’s
How it all
Seems easy
To lose
What has never
Been yours

Like a hand
Which is given
On faith
So the touch
Of her grace
Feels worthy

From a place
Whose heart
Is redemptive
For a name
Unsuited
To love

As I curse
This solemn
Exchange
And blame myself
When she
Crumbles

Apart
Like a morsel
Of sweetness
Or one sliver
That’s meant
To be saved

When our bitterness
Fair
Yet unclaimed
Seethes
Near the tip
Of her palette

Reminding me
Taste
Is forever
But a memory
Just
Doesn’t last

If the argument
Flavors
Our past
Or waits beyond
Time
That is wasted

Regretting
Words we have
Spoken
Or withheld
As an essence
Of loss

Sullying
Days which are
Cost
By the sourness
Mounted
Within us

Made edible
Only
Through changing
What saltiness
Spills
From my mouth.

– J. Pigno

All she
Ever wishes
Is to tell me
All about
Angels

But I find that
Kind of funny
Cause I think
She’s one
Herself

As she lays
Those cards
Face down
On our table
Sitting silent

With her eyes
Closed shut
And focused
As an aura
Gold like light

Seizes
What may pass
In this deck
That houses
Secrets

From a truth
Held in those crystals
As she chooses
Fate
With stone

Yet wins
My heart at last
By her colors
Shown
Through reading

This soul
Which wants
But nothing
Than her blessing
Giving life

To a feeling
Thought long past
Where God
Has fallen
Victim

Till the empath
I call healer
Finds love
Between us
Turned

Out of signs
And holding hands
When the stars
Align
Like symbols

Unearthing
Heaven waiting
Within
That holy
Gift.

– J. Pigno

It’s not that
Bad guys
Last

Any longer
Than good men
Tortured

But a proof
How God
Keeps giving

Those shots
At a chance
To be saved

Even
When facing
Death

Despite
Old wounds
Still healing

Unlike
Raw deals
Waiting

Without
Ever earning
Their peace

To prove
How actions
Speak

Like a clear
And just
Vindication

By the guns
Of pain
Redemptive

And the bullets
Aimed
As cause

Toward heartbreak
Burned
Like scars

In the chest
Of outlaws
Changing

When admitting
Fate
As heroes

Is the wrong
To make things
Right.

– J. Pigno

Some stones
Are merely
Cast

From the time
Our chance
Has rippled

Beyond
What hand
Is waving

Those rocks
We seem
To throw

When tossed
In waters
Deep

By their true
And failing
Message

Whose rage
Is always
Honest

But the hardest
Choice
We make

So they sink
Like broken
Dreams

Where the means
Have fallen
Victim

To the lies
Left floating
Gently

Behind
On brackish
Swells

When ponds
Are oceans
Vast

Within
These empty
Spaces

Hollowed
While we
Narrate

Creation
Through our
Hands

From channels
Lined
With grief

Among thick
And drowned
Expressions

Claiming
Life is
Easy

With pebbles
Dense
As weights

For In fact
I’ve served
No fate

Other
Than daring
Purpose

Gifted
With certain
Struggles

At the corner
Of sudden
Death

To ask me
What
I am

As I’ll tell you
Faith
Is worthless

Cause hope
Can never
Surface

Or survive
On borrowed
Time.

– J. Pigno

Those waves
Were a restless gray
Beyond
What bluffs
Laid highest

Above
That sea
Which wrestled
Near the jetties
Glazed with foam

And splashed
As tempers rose
Within
Such depths
Still rising

As they jutted out
From landings
Below
Our distant
Cliff

Where the mansion
Stood in watch
Over shorelines
Bare
And waiting

For this moment
Storms
Would claim us
At a house
Which had its ghosts

Like that woman’s
Sitting chair
Now rocking
Back
So gently

Without nudge
Or provocation
Other
Than being
Scared

For each
And every wind
Which grazed
Our bitter
Faces

While the radio
Played to silence
Near a room
Her spirit
Walked

When music
Calmed our fears
If the tune
Could ever
Save us

From a death
That’s always waited
For this moment
Caught
By chance

To speak
Through crackling
Flames
Like the fires
Voicing whispers

Beneath chimneys
Nearly coughing
From years
Of missing
Use

Telling us
Our ways
Are an effort
Dull
And wasted

With proof
Like reassurance
How our
Presence
Surely lasts

Among
These vacant halls
Just besides
That ocean
Grieving

Claiming
Every spirit
Has a heaven
Lost
On Earth.

– J. Pigno