There are cracks
Letting sunlight pass
Even where day
Doesn’t reach

Through the ruins
Of childhood mornings
Hiding plastic bins
Under stairs –

Another old spoon
Turning gold
From that cereal box
Nearly empty

Or my figures found
After moving
Besides novelties
Worth only dust,

With a bulb
Over basement steps
Guiding their path
Towards remembrance

Below creaking boards
Speaking softly
Such delicate whims
Calling haunts

Which chase me still
Going home
Since descending deep
Into memory

For one last bowl
Watching TV
While cartoons play
Better dreams.

Creeping shadows
Never quite change
Knowing innocence
Lives as our echo –

Those feelings real
Grown immortal
When time alone
Cannot hear

What specter calls
Beyond lies
And scares lost men
Thinking bleakly

How leaving toys
Means maturing
But instead just brings
Bitter ghosts.

• J. Pigno

There were days
Before every dream
Where empty space
Held their memory
Of fading halls
Hiding doorways
Where life itself
Remained still

And happier ends
Stayed a wish
Like hope long gone
Having surfaced
To explore such times
Become feelings
Slipping once again
Into dusk

Just beyond those walls
Turning beige
Or more unknown rooms
Filled with static
From cassette tapes found
Always playing
Only seen again
As we pass

Until hindsight yields
Deeper pain
Than any true fear
Could imagine
By sorrows recalled
Combing closets
For unopened gifts
Left behind

Packed away
Besides broken lights
Near fabric trees
Making echoes
As they brush our hands
Touching family
Keeping childhood real
Under dust

Calling out so loud
Seeking ghosts
Across basements dark
Growing lonely
Thinking home is there
Between shadows
Through that maze
Among faceless friends.

• J. Pigno

I dare you
Never to dream
Because hope
Defies expectation,

And fear
Resembles achievement
Closer than life
That we know –

A sullen belief
Always near
Never right
But somehow persistent

When gauging strength
During silence
Or our answer
Failing with faith,

Like the feelings
God must inflict
As importance
Comes from us changing

After facing days
Keeping quiet
Since more idleness
Offers such tests

For savoring
Things letting go
And forgetting friends
Barely noticed

Where times long gone
Stay remembered
Taking risks
Against what is loved.

Make sure
They grieve while alive
Being here
Though better off learning

Most every fate
Always falters
If chasing proof
Still unknown –

Much how words
Go unread
Out of tired pens
Growing certain

Their empty phrase
Misses meaning
Faking death
Before going home.

• J. Pigno

I’m asking still
For some hope
Despite how fate
Never answers
And defying God
In the process
Of seeking days
Better lived

Letting illness
Darken my way
Wishing miracles
Not really worthy
Could battle fears
Almost certain
Even heaven exists
Just to gloat

Where hell remains
Only sane
Seeing those removed
From what’s normal
Now enjoying pain
Always present
By agreeing
Happiness hurts

Since doubt consumes
All attempts
When trying hard
At forgetting
These simple needs
Merely human
Like a dream
With having some kids

Feeling bad
But keeping it real
Finding strength
Such anger inspires
Through experience
Denying things basic
Hardly blessed
But very secure

As us cursed
Are always denied
Daring death
Yet punished intently
Being artists
Honestly broken
Sickly speaking
Truth’s crazy words.

• J. Pigno

Let’s all look good
While we suffer
And die unknown
Staying gorgeous
From being alive
Only sometimes
When the sale price
Justifies breath

With tags still new
During use
Faking vintage dreams
In appearance
That elude our grasp
Always shopping
For one last deal
Never found –

That perfect match
Nearly gained
Until guilt outweighs
Further spending
Where appearance alone
Cannot salvage
An emptier fate
Dressing up

Since mirrors reflect
Even skulls
Whose souls enjoy
Always hiding
Seeing lavish threads
Adorn bodies
Which crave belief
As they thrift,

Though ensnared
Beneath bitter trends
Needing truth
Despite often buying
Such endless frills
Seeking meaning
Knowing chic
Is nature at last

Under shirts
Become merely rags
Learning God
Created us naked
Wishing flesh
Was much more accepted
Wholly vogue
Exposing what’s free.

• J. Pigno

I am fine
With holding it in
Like any man knows
Is his duty
From trying so long
At expressing
What anger implies
Being strong

But instead
Destroys all he feels
By removing hope
From equations
Better left wrong
After adding
An incorrect sum
Seeking love

Never solved
Yet always complex
Needing more
Than variable answers
Making plans
While failing arithmetic
Taking lessons
Learned if we play

Pretty faces
Smart when they smile
Using tools
Against every reason
Our logic assumes
Couldn’t change us
Defying that truth
Digits bring

Though disastrous
Losing all thoughts
Where her words
Elude mathematics
And promises
Break over figures
Statistics alone
Cannot gauge

How emotion
Conquers these laws
Leaving fellows
Stoically brazen
Proving numbers mean
Very little
Since the masculine heart
Doesn’t speak.

• J. Pigno

Remember those
Basement talks
From before our lives
Even started –

The late-night turns
Playing records
By lamplight
Baring both souls?

How fast they’d spin
Without knowing
What songs would last
Over decades,

So sacred now
Being moments
Where friendships
Changed as they grew

Into something more
Never told
But there through chords
Leaving echoes

Of platonic love
Only fortunate
For having had time
Truly shared.

That was happiness
Lacking restraint
Or such ignorance
Youth will exhibit

Since learning days
Between memories
Are adept
At hiding their bliss,

While work consumes
Every game
And evening spent
Around TVs

Smashing controls
Still oblivious
Until morning comes
When we scream –

Ruining dreams
Again showing pasts
Sorely missed
Upon merely waking

Where cellars damp
Become colder
Thinking you’re near
Feeling ghosts.

• J. Pigno

What is the price
We pay for daylight
Just to wander
Routes so restless
Which rob our nights
Of darkness
From journeying
Farther than sleep?

These vacant dreams
Keep changing
Where desert skies
May guide us
Towards burning signs
Near roadsides
Beyond such peace
Now lost,

As life seems wrong
In transit
During journeys long
On railways
When crawled by foot
While begging
With thumbs reached out
That shake –

Like walking now
Though dazed
But expecting hope
Come sundown
Around old friends
Still waiting
Under neon bulbs’
Dim glow,

Through ghost towns
Always awake
And somehow
Eerily radiant
Feeling lost
Along every exit
Seeking one more chance
Getting home.

My vagrant faith
Must grasp
This abandoned world
Soon ending
Knowing cars can’t cross
Over memories
Or pause at stops
Never there,

Wishing God himself
Had His turn
Fixing broken paths
Even hotter
Beneath motel roofs
Going missing
After decades
Facing decay –

Letting landscapes
Wickedly bright
Draw horizons
Growing decrepit
Chasing promises
Forcing exhaustion
Seeking answers
Running away.

• J. Pigno

There’s a confidence
Feeling so sick
As objective truths
Cannot answer
What question kills
Very slowly
When hiding in sight
Being asked

By those who dare
Look up close
Or examine fears
Under x-rays
Like their suffering
Turning towards data
Without findings
Other than faith

Under hospital gowns
Growing cold
Trading heaven’s light
For fluorescents
And bargaining still
Seeking evidence
That God might care
Even less

If suspending doubt
Getting close
To discover such lies
Incidental
Caught on whims
Chasing symptoms
No rational man
Ever knows

Since believing now
Barely quells
This gnawing pain
Needing numbers
Where pills dispensed
Over hunches
Soon invalidate
Life after death

Through liturgies
Held between scans
Just worshipping flesh
At its limits
Refusing proof
Something greater
Should dictate hope
Unconvinced.

• J. Pigno

I’ll never live down
Being me
As the man
Whose words
Offer little

But their poor
And honest rejection
Like a son
No parent
Accepts

Whose tragedies
Still
Become laughs
Trying so hard
At sustaining

One last line
Feeling certain
Some meaning
Remains
Left behind,

Mocked by those
Claiming love
But ignored
Too much
For acceptance

Which barely exists
When admitting
Our reality
Harsh
Though expressed

In poetry
Few will engage
So dull
Or shamelessly
Broken

Where agony
Justifies staying
Unemployed
Yet breathlessly
Loud –

Capturing thoughts
More insane
All around
What dreams
Keep repeating,

Seeking peace
Since having been
Martyred
Long before this phrase
Truly dies.

• J. Pigno