It wasn’t
Until many years
Later
How I realized
You meant
Every word

Each gesture
Wave
And confession
In the hands
Which spoke
As they shook

While you emoted
Loud
On their stage
For approval
If not
Reassurance

From the ones
Who’d never
Accept you
Even after
I told
They would

Acting
Like someone
May care
When your daily
Speech
Met with laughter

For the ears
Then straining
To listen
At a genius
Not knowing
They should

Like mine
Now admitting
This sin
For a friend
Whose place
Is conviction

Understood
As hope
For the kindness
Lost only
To hearts
Without faith

To remind me
God is not
Vain
When belief
Is a certain
Affliction

Like appearing
Weak
Or unsettled
To an audience
Begging
We stop

Judging
These roles
That we play
As childish
Games
Of forgiveness

For the ways
We seek
Our fulfillment
Through a wish
Of such fantasy
Made

And our failures
Young
But inane
As this chance
Which brought us
Together

Letting you
Know
I appreciate
That fact
How you always
Were there.

– J. Pigno

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

I’m nothing
Short of astounded
To learn
How we survive

Each day
Without intervention
As far as sight
Can see

Or claim
Within our path
Beyond such
Measured distance

To exist
As taken chances
In the eyes
Of playing God

Who looks
Not on our place
But the fate
Our context wishes

Is the push
All choices muster
For a change
To mean as much

Peering down
Through stars
So small
Their dimmest glimmer

Shows signs
Of watching angels
That guide
Our efforts blind

Twinkling
From their perch
Across heavens
Barely witnessed

Under evenings
Blessed with radiance
So faint
Yet shimmering still

To remind us
Lives are sealed
This moment
Hearts receive them

Upon birth
Or even thinking
Those potentials
Could bear breath

Having voice
And keeping faith
Near the start
Of staying special

But challenged
As they’re ruined
From the minute
Reason creeps

Like doubt
Which quiets proof
Inside
What souls receptive

Go seeking
Answers waiting
Among cities
Built by men

Not Christ
Or former saints
Just cars which crash
At random

While sickness
Running rampant
Affects families
Fallen ill

Reminding me
Our shot
Is avoidance
Of that system

Where flesh
Is traded daily
And spirits
Lose their way

Hopeful
Through this fact
How prayer
Can buffer chaos

When actions
Could be dangerous
The moment
Luck resigns.

– J. Pigno

Each time
I force this
Shit
Is another
Day that’s
Wearing

On words
Which have
No meaning
Outside
What spark
Has passed

Until
These feelings
Rear
Such phrases
Short
And scary

Like passing
Bolts
Of thunder
Which strike
At ground
This hard

To unleash
Their spoken
Wrath
With stories
Told
From caring

Too much
As God
Would put it
For memories
Old
Yet raw

Still nagging
In this
Rain
Which pours
On open
Spaces

Where fields
Inside
My being
Are drenched
When anger
Flows

But waits
For coming
Rays
Through release
Of clouded
Tensions

Spoken
As my
Lightning
Is witnessed
Near that
Sun

Beyond
What danger
Cracks
Within dark
And scattered
Systems

Plaguing
Minds left
Empty
Across heavens
Clear
And real

Beneath chance
Or fated
Storms
So dark
I cannot
Witness

How skies
Are open
Daily
Over holes
I always
Chase

Through fog
That lingers
Low
Between cracks
That have me
Begging

Amid fears
Like distant
Doldrums
For my writing
Come
And gone.

– J. Pigno