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

I’m just
Not yet ready
To go and solve
This puzzle
For the sake
Of opening pathways
In a game
With myriad doors

Unlatching
Perpetual locks
By pinching
At thinnest needles
Discovering
What lies secret
Behind keyholes
Clinched from fear

Jimmying
Tiny bolts
Which build up
Harsh resistance
As they tell me
Bonds stay permanent
Though I try
And remove their hold

Imposing
Limited access
On truths
I dare to question
Like arrogance
Barring knowledge
From players
Willing to lose

Establishing
Basic rules
Which change
As values lessen
Among winners left
Unnoticed
When their score
Begin its drop

Plummeting
While they wait
For a board
That’s now predicted
As an unfair
Right of passage
Determining
Sudden death

Where decisions
Branch like cracks
Between floorboards
Always shifting
Opening rifts
To nowhere
And swallowing people
Whole

Much how
Life Insists
Parameters
Keep us running
And trapped
Inside this corridor
For points which add
From sin

And chance
To choose our fate
By rooting hard
For goodness
Despite those laws
Indifferent
Or standards
Most provoke

Leaving
Portals blocked
And surrendering
Safest exits
Hoping faith
Can triumph
And conquer
Contests rigged.

– J. Pigno

All I’ll ever be
Is money
And their problem
Though my family
Argues otherwise
Despite
Such wasted
Space

With alms
I sadly take
At the table
Of these burdens
Crossing knives
Intently
While envisioning
How they cut

Letting
Blood redeem
Those debts
Incurred when drinking
Thick charity
As it wobbles
In my hands
So weak from nerves

Fidgeting
Nearly sick
Shaking my leg
Discretely
Above these
Wooden floorboards
Atop this seat
Which bends

On legs
Withstanding weight
Of a thousand
Senseless reasons
Running through
My memory
Where sacrifice
Hurts me more

Accepting
Love resists
That image of
Truest failure
Regardless
Of this feasting
For a cause
They’ve nearly lost –

A future
Worth belief
From prayers
To find my solace
As I pace
Alone toward answers
Too sad
For making sense

Letting words
Destroy
What purpose
Drives these feelings
Proving
Happy endings
Don’t come for
Lazy hearts.

– J. Pigno

We all should
Be so damn
Lucky
To die for the eyes
Of many

Taking
What is not granted
Often
As an exit
Preferred

Passing
While we are seen
In front
Of a world
Held captive

Where crowds
Go begging
That encore
As the ambulance
Hurries away

Like bare
And suggestive
Ends
Surrendering fate
As we challenge

What modesty
Hides
From the public
When tragedy
Falsely assumes

Happiness
Staying intact
Is remaining
Alive
For a reason

Rather
Than suffering
Agony
So the fallacy
Washes away

Clenching our chest
Out of grief
That we leave
Some dreams
Behind us

But excited
To meet such closure
Cause the halo
Waited
Too long

Hating God
For His game
And the ways
He chooses
To punish

Leaving
With crowds
Still cheering
Yet hopeful
Each loser
Wins.

– J. Pigno

God
I’m disappointed
But that doesnt mean
Ungrateful
When the anger
Casts its shadow
Over miracles
You made known

Through quiet
Introspection
Like light between
These phases
Of clouds which
Cover heavens
Hanging low
Above our heads

As angels
In our midst
Both big and small
With halos
Bear crosses
Barely witnessed
Carried daily
On their backs

Never
Asking why
But marching forth
Regardless
To claim how
Simple worship
Is often
Feeling pain

Aware
Such healing hurts
And believing
Every action
Is weight
To counterbalance
What evil lifts
Deceived

Forgetting
Feathers drift
And fail to keep us
Grounded
Where bricks
And other burdens
Allow our hearts
To see

Acknowledging
Each deed
Or stone
Applied as pressure
Moves one side
Toward greatness
To measure
Lessons learned

Convincing
Secret saints
Who suffer lives
So simple
Their scars don’t go
Unnoticed
But rather
Tip that scale.

– J. Pigno

Adults
Can’t help themselves
Any more
Than a child flounders
At neglect
Of abusive persons
Who believe tough love
Is not wrong

Like hatchlings
Perched in their nest
Begging for worms
Without answers
But silent chagrin
Of these parents
Insisting they forage
Alone

Impossible to even fix
Or imagine God
Has His reasons
With a knowledge
That’s long been
Determined
Since we’ve fallen far
From that tree

Yet close enough
To still grow
And break through ground
That’s left arid
By droughts
Of meaningful hardship
For life which begs
As a seed

Sprouting
Wings for a branch
And soaring high
Amidst canopies
Left unexplored
By their forebears
Too scared
To venture so tall

Among
Such towering peaks
And above
What limits restrain them
As they abandon
Homes within forests
Obscuring truth
From their sun

Learning
Flying is proof
How damage
Not always repeated
Assures their place
Throughout heavens
Better than dreams
Could have hoped

Letting pasts
Remain low
Grounded deep
Beneath timber
Under woods
That have no bearing
When accepting roots
Are a curse.

– J. Pigno

Get up and write
You son of a bitch
As if your life
Depends on it
Without fear
Or explanations
But purpose
To cleanse this soul

Venting
Demons held
From lies
And faulty questions
Too stupid
To seem simple
Like the reasons
People break

When voices
Grow insane
But cracks
Are worth exploring
What instants
Feel perpetual
Through circles
Chasing hope

As I search this day
Confused
Seeking prayers
Gone missing
Yet losing faith
To stubbornness
Or excuses
Built on time

Insisting
Choice is real
To conjure grief
So needless
In a fearful state
Unending
Like truths
I can’t ignore

With eyes
Toward endless space
Or the death
Between these margins
Mocking
Monsters waiting
Where hurt
Is an empty line

Between
This senseless phrase
And the need
To keep repeating
Such trauma cut
From impulse
Like statues
Deep in stone

For the worst words
I may claim
Are better
Than saying nothing

Biting tongues
Not gifted
But cursed
With an act of God.

– J. Pigno