It’s too hard
Pretending I’m dead
When deserving more
Than just silence
On receiving ends
Being punished
Through those left numb
By such words

Or my actions
Feeling quite right
Despite what truths
Are intended
In each empty phrase
Only finished
Fighting nervous whims
Unrelieved

Seeking penance
So misunderstood
After failing life
Chasing whimsy
But cutting out friends
Though admitting
Their blessings
Hurt even worse

For a man
Who could barely achieve
Preserving love
While she waited
Yet squandering faith
Letting illness
Murder every hope
They had built

Watching science
Still torture his muse
Deep inside that soul
Full of questions
Finding God Himself
Never answers
Where math alone
May provide

If eternal fears
Should exist
Since expression
Borders damnation
Behind lonely walls
Getting comfortable
Worried at night
Without rest.

• J. Pigno

Here’s a promise
Never to linger
After writing
Anonymous poems

Or excuse this fate
Inescapable
Knowing full well
Words merely fade

After all my life
Trying hard
For finding hope
In approval

And shaping lines
Truly fragile
Sharing constant needs
Barely met

Where delicate dreams
Hit the floor
Now dropped by hands
Growing weaker

Soon falling below
Without witness
Losing meaning
Passing so fast

Always shattering
Legacies begged
From stranger’s eyes
Understanding

What failing phrase
Imbued purpose
Behind empty faith
Built on ink

Making risky prose
Very real
Leaving open hearts
Unprotected

When human’s pry
Using absence
As subtler means
Of control

Pretending things
Aren’t said
Still neglecting proof
While existing

But best expressed
If diminished
Yet better unknown
Till death.

• J. Pigno

At night
While I’m falling asleep
My mind recalls
Sadder stories,

Like the kind you’d read
Browsing forums
Where people turn
Feeling unheard –

How they nurture their woes
Very real
After learning how God
Doesn’t coddle

Or understand pain
Merely human
To empathize with
What we face.

These mounting ills
Steal our breath
So preciously spent
Seeking answers

While losing that voice
Using effort
To connect once again
Before death,

When time runs out
Fearing life
Confronting each threat
Unrelenting

Long after youth
Has expired
Spending moments now
Growing too old –

Wasting health
Loving everyone else
Except for those
Who still need it

Finding faith falls short
Of experience
Knowing prayer
Dangles carrots on souls

About promises
Never quite kept
In hospital beds
Drawing curtains,

Bringing fates
Even more upsetting
Always sharing
This ending alone.

• J. Pigno

It is the burden
Of every artist
To fight for what
There isn’t

But should exist
Regardless
Of how this world
Can’t change –

A community
Bounded by grief
Like those unseen
And lonely,

Crazier now
After learning
Their cries could stay
Ignored

Despite heaven
Hearing each cause
Embracing terms
More wondrous

Since fantasy
Fosters creation
Bridging souls
Between both worlds.

That dream
Remains intact
Defining roles
Less lazy

Whose empty faith
Keeps failing
When love falls short
At home

Behind work
Or desperate attempts
Never on par
With idleness

Which screams
Louder than hatred
Born from angry lives
Controlled –

Damned
Through every means
Defiling hearts
Still willing,

Seeking truth
If believing
Some words
Can conquer death.

• J. Pigno

Only forebears
Got to have kids
So we could enjoy
Being lonely
Before reaching our deaths
Prematurely
Under threat of their lies
Getting sick

Feeling vagrant at home
Without hope
Or direction besides
Growing older
As challenging times
Remain darker
For those dissonant hearts
Beating still

Losing chances
Purposely gained
Just chasing each tail
Drawing circles
Around aimless dreams
Always vocal
Now screaming how fear
Never works

When appearing real
During scenes
Crushing childhoods
Filmed behind lenses
Left traumatized once
By believing
Every capitalist lie
They could tell

Knowing innocence
Carries more weight
Than fantasies seized
Making wages
Gaining everything but
Certain wishes
Fulfilled through love
Undersold

Since rejecting truth
Deep inside
Keeping far from hurt
Barely hidden
Though harboring pride
Near the bottom
Where no family waits
This long.

• J. Pigno

Dear WordPress Family,

I want to take this opportunity to wish everyone a safe, happy, and healthy holiday season.

I also want to extend my thanks for such a devoted audience who continues to facilitate my journey as a poet.

This year has been very rough for me and my family, but your continued acknowledgement and support of my writing has eased this pain in ways I can’t even begin to explain. My extreme and sincere gratitude goes out to each and every one of you who consistently read my work and take that extra step of clicking “like.” It lets me know there are people who care, who are listening, and that I’m living a shared experience with other artists who understand my point of view. This lifestyle can be terribly isolating at times, and as such, your level of engagement is truly priceless for fellow creators. You’re doing God’s work – more than you could ever know.

Here is to a better 2024.

All my love and best wishes,

Jon (aka J. Pigno)

We all must pay
God’s debt
With a life too frail
For the taking
As threatened by age
Still inherent
Being human and flawed
After sin

Which gambles our soul
Always knowing
Like rolling that dice
Every second
Such breath should dare
Inhalation
In spite of death
Drawing near

These transient games
Often tempt
When promising flesh
Utter happiness
While hiding knives
Behind curtains
Merely stalling fate
Soon attacked

Still stabbing us back
Though we push
Their sharpest blades
Even further
Below this skin
Facing struggles
Regaining holds
Never had

Assuming strength
Couldn’t change
Over feelings lost
Barely grounded
Assured how faith
Remains certain
Staying far from fear
If engaged

Until mortal doubt
Disappears
During moments spent
Truly dreaming
Since force unveils
Better reasons
Epiphanies wait
Beyond rules.

• J. Pigno

It’s the fear
That keeps me believing
Despite what proof
Remains distant
Knowing prayer feels numb
Seeming needy
Even if an answer
Should come

Just begging out loud
For some more
Still seeking God’s hand
Always missing
While watching faith die
On these smartphones
Letting wars wage on
Without help

Going live now soon
Gaining viewers
Seeing hate take sides
So persistent
Until every last soul
Can’t distinguish
Which evil has won
Over good

Like a relative voice
Casting doubts
Since shedding its truth
Always changing
Sending echoes across
Gaping chasms
Between crumbling worlds
Falling in

Where emptier voids
Swallow whole
Such miracles lost
Facing demons
Who resemble their own
Fleeing darkness
Judging humans by blood
Sadly shared

Deep beneath this flesh
Growing raw
After fighting ourselves
Never caring
How all life’s creeds
Demand service
Rewarded through love
We attempt.

• J. Pigno

Downstairs
Near the basement boiler
Where my childhood toys
Stayed hidden
Stood a shadowy man
In that nightmare
Whose scarlet coat
Appeared burned

Sporting rags
He’d apparently torn
While breaking inside
Seeking playthings
Still lighting each fuse
On some fireworks
Aiming loaded shells
At their face

Soon waking me up
With those bangs
And rattling walls
Shooting embers
Nearly charring his beard
As they fired
Raining sparks over floors
Just below

Between concrete walls
Storing bins
Across plastic lids
Along shelving
Throwing fiery stars
Kindling trinkets
Losing faith
We so preciously kept

Scorching all
Showing little remains
Leaving no other gift
But reflections
Of memories caught
Inside boxes
Become dancing flames
After dark

Now teddy bears charred
During dreams
Next to mangled trains
Always smoking
Every Christmas Eve
Fearing Santa
Will return what light
He once brought.

• J. Pigno

They’ll remember me
Not by these words
But the fact that I dared
To be jobless
And remain unknown
Still on purpose
Except by those few
Who might care

As most would proclaim
How insane
A man must appear
Staying nameless
Without any such proof
He existed
Or value unearned
While alive

Defined through eyes
Left behind
Describing real ills
Like they’re praises
Of an anxious soul
Misinterpreted
For what lies hurt more
Than each fear

Denying deep pain
Very true
Where phrases alone
Revealed sickness
Turned daily relief
Into poetry
After failing so long
Fighting back

Against symptoms
Never quite gone
Despite seconds between
Yielding respite
When writing down thoughts
Growing dangerous
If calling out art
Far less bold

Never worried
Since someone might read
His beliefs unrestrained
Even stranger
Always seeking their ear
Merely willing
Getting radically changed
Before long.

• J. Pigno