I willingly
Accept these sins
As products
Of misunderstanding
For ways
In which God
Has intended
So humans may
Savor this flesh

As even
The smallest kiss
Is recalled
With absence
Of pleasure
When the biggest
Part of me festers
On sex as a danger
To love

By threats
No heart can redeem
If gaping wounds
Imply weakness
And wallowing deep
In said torments
Brings feeling
Through poisonous
Gains

Like bleeding out
From our wills
To replace what need
Is delinquent
By allowing
Responsible anger
To soften
Such blows
We inflict

Before falling down
Upon knives
Opening tears
Without purpose
And ignoring
Cues
Of our morals
To thread such cuts
With that stitch

Like reasons
For remedied ills
Determined quick
By our choices
Lonely as days
Between moments
Holding lifetimes
Raw
In their hands –

How I wager
Death
Against faith
From a fleeting truth
Among bodies
Longing for touch
As their purpose
But denying loss
As some end

Kneeling hard
Under weights
Like bottles
Stones
And persistence
Of heaviest lies
Bearing answers
Trapping fate and chance
Underfoot

So memories
Vaguely smother
Such breath
That’s left to remember
What women
Were merely
Addictions
And partners
The honest cure

Trampled
Though I remain
Beneath this past
Still victim
To a standard
Yielded within me
From emptiness
Driven
By bliss.

– J. Pigno

If it means
Being one
With the things
I always
Care about

Until I can’t
Anymore
And day comes
I’m long
gone

Believe
That special way
No woman
Could dare
Replace

Or feeling
Barely satiate
To fulfill
Through oddest
Peace

What I’ll always
Keep in
Faith
Despite where doubt
Remains

How normalcy
Breaks this worship
So purpose
Has no
Cause

When feet
And tainted flesh
Whose soul
Is now
Transparent

Crashes
Like this train wreck
Bold
And caught
On tracks

Brilliant
Just the same
At feasts
Of mangled
Metal

Beckoning
Unsung heroes
To disasters
Where they
Rest.

Damn
If it wasn’t
Pretty –
The fire
I kept burning

Yes
I’ve bravely ridden
This mess
Of words
Which crashed.

– J. Pigno

I watch
My parents hate
Through a lens
Of entitled sadness
Allowing fear
Once festered
To eclipse what good
They’ve done

Though I try
And break their chains
With dreams
Of stunted freedoms
Alive
Despite that innocence
Which whimpers
While it fades

Wounded
Where we lay
In pools
Within our madness
Running red
Like rivers
Of a deep
And bloodied lie

Insular
As these means
To escape those locks
So drastic
And needles
Housing failures
Which scrape
Against these walls

Wrestling
Tethered fates
Atop what pins
Sustain us
Yet pierce
Like hushed resentments
Of convictions
Barely shared –

The lies
And status quo
Sharp
Without much changing
Or a desperate
Quest for answers
Disguised
As easy bail

Digging
Daily knives
Further
When I cower
By avoiding
Moving forwards
To rewind
Two decades back

Knowing
Finding jobs
Or the promise
Of some future
Is equally
As upsetting
As this lifetime
Spent at home.

– J. Pigno

Have you ever
Experienced pain
That barely
Scratches
The surface

Of cracks inside
Unnoticed
Which can rarely
Even be
Fixed

In the middle
Of marathon years
Where days
And nights
Grow changeless

Sleeping
For longest seconds
Just to realize
You’re screaming
Awake?

Wired
In restless chains
Of a mind
Tied down
With faces

On a sea
Of empty answers
That anchors
Dreams
Like boats

Filling
Each time we crash
From tears
Which drown
Our chances

Coasting
Shores of memory
Too close
To the rocks
Once rough.

Flattened
By hungry waves
Eating
Away at
Jetties

Dulled
As natural
Barriers
Erode from
Raging tides

Rising now
With hate
Toward waters
Black
And dangerous

Swollen
While they ripple
To capsize
Ships
Still whole

Claiming
Wild surf
Is the reason
All rafts
Plummet

Into oceans
Dark as yesterday
When the depths
Of hurt
Call out

Seeping
Through this
Space
Which breaches
Faulty senses

Bewildered
By such fissures
As the water
Flows
Through hulls

And wrecks
Whatever lasts
During moments
Not quite
Peaceful

As the evening
Falls to ruin
Knowing fear
Can never
Sail

What vessel
Rife with holes
Floats
Atop this
Feeling

That disaster
Brings us
Closure
Even though
Forever sinks.

– J. Pigno

I can never
Just seem
To wait
Or savor
A fleeting
Instant
As if time
Itself
Is a challenge
Or affront
To the fact
I exist

Believing
I’ll never
Sit still
To ignore
What fears
Remain looming
Low
Like clouds
Among gestures
Grim
As fate
Overhead

Between
Such lines
Once traced
By the hand
Of heavens
Indifferent
Now drawn
As a sullen
Reminder
All lives
And days
Must pass.

– J. Pigno

It’s not
What people
You bring

But the evil
They carry
With them

Which sullies
A leave
Of respite

Dragging
That past
Behind,

Keeping
Their fate
In tow

Wishing
They weren’t
Some victim

Believing
Escape isn’t
Easy

Yet running
Away
Just the same.

– J. Pigno

I’m not even
Going to try
To make this
Poem perfect

But convey
Through failed intention
What sincerity
Lifts my heart

From creation
Raw as need
With expression
Keen on filling

Such holes
Which open daily
When the walls
Begin to break

Where words
Remain unsaid
Between these
Quiet boundaries

And buffers
Plainly painted
So the colors
Speak too soft

Allow these
Empty sounds
To find their
Missing utterance

And connect
Like damaged phrases
Arranged as
Pictures new

With innocence
Torn apart
By imaginations
Golden

Assembled
From that sunshine
Of souls
Each morning wakes

To brilliant
Portraits made
Through bare
And startled fragments

Or verses
Cracked from anger
Sustained
By vivid dreams

Wishing
Early light
Was the source
Of purest feeling

To attain
That burning sliver
Of fantasy
Held within

Ruining
Death we have
By awaiting
Fate tomorrow

Betraying
Honest chances
For life
To last as long.

– J. Pigno

Christ
As he wasted away
Said they know not
What they’re
Doing,

But I always
Found that funny
Cause I see now
This is
Planned –

For sin
Like deliberate death
Is abandon
By these
Choices

And misery
Come forever
Through need
Of insistent
Flesh,

With Earth
Our fallen
Dream
Made from pride
Unsettling

As paradise
Meant to be conquered
At the hands
Of hope
In vain.

– J. Pigno

How sad
To even think
We’d be lost
Without a cellphone

Or tools which light
Our darkness
On this path
Of lonely screens

Reminding us
That flesh
Becomes
Inconsequential

Where warmth
Or whispers dearest
Fade like
Wanting touch

For those who
Need not speak
But type
Their pleasures fleeting

Greedy
For efficience
As if it
Matters most

When words
And stolen faith
Have grown
Beyond distinction

Compared to bleeps
And glitches
Which dictate
Where we stand.

– J. Pigno