He’d woken from
His dream
That was filled with
Fallen ashes
Of a winter dark
And frigid
Showings futures
He had feared

Huddling closely
Behind logs
Tightly holding
Hands which trembled
As he heard
His father whimper
Catching fallout
On his face

Watching snow
Bring end of days
As his mother
Left their shelter
Soon exposed
To die besides him
Knowing hope
Had long been lost

Startled only
By that scream
While the motel lights
Had flickered
Come this morning
God revealed them
Like bright signals
Flashing sun

At a brick
And mortar chimney
Near the roadside
Not too distant
From his window
Glazed with moisture
While November
Howled its winds

Catching glimpses
Of that fate
In the early dawn
Emergent
Sniffing scents
Of burning wood chips
Smelling griddles
Sizzling meat

Stepping out
Upon new routes
Where his nerves
Had left him stranded
Along 209
So quiet
Among cars
Who barely passed

Strolling gently
Towards that path
Amid houses
Dark like ruins
Braving leaves
And fallen branches
Finding plaster
Smeared with blood

Upon lime
Which seemed untouched
From such fingers
Frail or mortal
Hiding age
Beneath each detail
Proving art
Had taken life

Seeing Mary
Shed her tears
Crimson red
But oddly gorgeous
Yielding gifts
No man desired
Learning marvels
Carried doom

Humbled still
Before his God
Taking heed
Of truth apparent
Feeling prophesy
Revealed purpose
Beyond omens
Sleep disclosed

Dabbing stains
Below Her cheeks
Asking questions
Sobs had answered
Without peace
But gore indignant
Easing sins
His heart contained

Gaining foresight
From its source
Chasing grace
Through Pennsylvania
Now discovered
Between shambles
Life delivered
Everyday

Getting back
Inside that truck
Thinking nightmares
Meant forgiveness
Driving off
Without that sculpture
Never mentioned
Once again.

– J. Pigno

And now there is
No more sin
As your kiss
Still pains me
Most

Even though
Our mouths
Hold answers
Even God Himself
Can’t speak

Said between
These earthly drills
Like long trials
Hard
But telling

Shedding reasons
Skin confesses
From before
Both lives
Commit

Over decades
Lost on lips
Seeking partners
Fair
If willing

Feeling wrong
Besides connection
Or devotion
Faked
By choice

That despises
Mortal need
When indulging
Quests
Which linger

Building friendships
Fallen victim
While these hearts
Grow bored
So quick

Fumbling solace
After thrills
Thinking real
Means joy
Too fleeting

Always fighting
Hoping futures
Break those fears
Such bonds
Create

Banking fate
Upon decisions
Merely forced
Where love
Seems errant

Trading lies
Since every promise
Beckoned rings
Their hands
Won’t wear.

Now I see
This truth is harsh
Pledging death
Should part us
Only

Simply gorgeous
Once intended
But in hindsight
Marred
With use

Proving pleasure
Honors men
Yet destroys
What soul
Pursues it

Giving vows
That sacred purpose
For redemption
Flesh
Can’t ruin.

– J. Pigno

The man
Whose talent dreamed
That his life
Might be important
Has now
Discovered failure
Offers so much more
Than shame

In poems
Left unsaid
And their values
Learned through silence
With each meaning
Lost on answers
Only words could prove
Are wrong

Chasing Hell
Between those lines
Finding flesh
Shares common phrases
Touting death
As human triumph
Best expressed
If gone for good

Gaining secrets
God won’t share
Always passing
Precious pages
Down to sinners
Still intruding
Upon nothing
But such peace

Where my heaven
Quiets speech
When tomorrow
Remains honest
Before breathing
Feels so empty
Even dialogue
Stifles air

Stealing days
I just don’t have
Wasting winds
Time often carries
Across decades
Deaf from waiting
Every moment
Chances scream

How forever
Bores this soul
Facing judgments
Come too early
Loudly claiming
Tranquil wishes
Never tell
Of true success

But diminish
Present gifts
We exchange
By staying vocal
Despite fearing
Insignificance
Blunders prove
No mind escapes.

– J. Pigno

A controller
Left unplugged –
This relic of
Short-term freedom,
Sits on top
Old carpet
Where each stain
Proves patches
Speak,

From these hands
Which fumble cups
Sipping cola
Laced with sadness
As its flavor
Mocks such sorrow
Leaving sweetness
Like some
Curse

On my tongue
That tells what’s fake
Quicker than
Those memories
Perish
Watching decades
Dance through shadows
Flipping channels
While I stare.

They invoke
Synthetic light –
Stations summoned
By my choosing
Through thin fingers
Struggling gently
Against buttons
Hard
When pressed,

Where resistance
Seems absurd
Since my sanity
Grows distracted
Facing levels
Beyond dangerous
Losing lives
I can’t
Repeat

Every evening
Fate ignored
Becomes leisure
Duly challenged
By existence
Feeling futile
Amid games
God often
Plays.

– J. Pigno

The privilege
Of losing sleep
Bears splinters
Which pin
My soul

Against what flesh
Feels rotten
Sweated
To death
In this bed,

Like a shell once
So inspired
Which is now
Just vomiting
Phrases

Giving me
Countless wishes
For words
That actually
Speak

Without much thought
Or need
While emphasis
Seems less
Sacred

When expression
Forcibly rendered
Cuts fists
Since handling
Wood –

Those sharp
And pertinent dreams
Tearing skin
Through days
Expired

After years
Of juggling faces
Sporting masks
From terms
Unsaid.

These lies
Show fallen logs
How each verse
Hides precious
Timber,

Shedding bits
Beyond description
Housing needles
God
Might touch  –

Rather than
Idle threats
Missing points
Sharp angles
Threaten

At times
Our fear
Smooths edges
Among knives
Called life itself.

– J. Pigno

I believe
How these aging toys
And the dream
They once
Represented

Hide a kid
Whose wish
Has been silenced
After putting them
Back in their place

For nothing
But repetitive tasks
And stubborn lies
Which keep
Failing

At encouraging
Days worth living
Beyond
What fears
Became work

Before songs
Only heard inside
Redeemed
Each soul
Still committed

To an innocence
Openly humming
Those melodies
Tinged
With relief

By characters
Forever pure
Whose fantasies
Shaped
Our existence

For tomorrow’s truth
Disappointed
Such play
Is perpetually
Lost

On salaries
Making us sick
Trading angst
While we
Socially distance

From imagining
Human potential
As some child’s
Bear
Being hugged

Now together
Just sharing space
Even smiling
Though they seem
Saddened

Knowing soon
Separation beckons
Upon shelves
Facing decades
Ignored.

– J. Pigno

I am no longer
Your son

Because guilt
Is not my birthright

Like the money
Which still can’t answer

What questions
Your soul won’t ask –

As an incapable feat
For rage

Whose flame knows
Only matches

When experience yields
These passions

While igniting God
In hand,

For the lie that
Bears me grief

Within flesh
Whose silence lingers

Presuming
My spirit missing

At the tip of a tongue
You’d burned.

This body
Just can’t speak

Anymore than words
Could flourish

Where fires dance
Through kingdoms

Of dreams
You’d had me torch.

My phrase
Can’t offer cash,

My pen bring much
But solace

Condemned as faith
Unworthy

For the man whose life
Meant less

Than the joy
You’d wish I earned

While pursuing jobs
So pointless

And convinced
Such work held purpose

Beyond building ash
On lungs –

Like collected smoke
Thought breath

Within mouths
Whose air went missing

So the fire spread
From neighbors

Bragged its brilliant light
That glows.

Now forever
I’ll spend each day

Flooding waters
Upon sore voices

Quelling damages
Pouring phrases

Spilling verse
Amid embers learned.

– J. Pigno

We are all
Terrible dreams
As far my eyes
Can tell –

At least
From a backwards
Glance
Where life
Appears so long,

But never
In media res
Upon this proof
Conceding

To minds
Whose fearful
Sleeping
Deludes each sense
When woke.

Valueless
Though we believe
Our gifts make
Appropriate burdens

Like feelings
Expressed intently
Through an image
Etched
On flesh-

Our bodies
Masked with stone
Broken
By God’s great chisel,

Hammering tales
Off faces
Fixed
For forever
At last.

Those cracked
And colorless skins
Hold truths
Unsaid between us

Through statues
Stoically crafted
Made calm
While modeling
Death –

Beautiful art
Untouched
If assessed
Without that knowledge

How time
Apparently dawdles
Inside
These nightmare
Shells.

– J. Pigno

I’m no safer
In my dreams
Than on tired days
Which follow
Such long
And anxious vigils
Praying God
Might help me
Sleep

While car horns
Blare outside
Just beyond
These open windows
Finding mornings
Without ending
Feeling fresh air
Touch this
Face

Learning sunlight
Proves no threat
To what sadness
Keeps us present
Despite begging
Every moment
For just one more
Chance
At rest

Even if
That nervous wish
Means attempting
Braving demons
Whose existence
Echoes anger
Upon whispers
Said
When still

Mocking eyelids
Hanging low
Tempting fear
With staunch expressions
From old times
Best not remembered
Flashing failures
Thought
Long passed

Gripping pillows
Like restraints
Knowing peace
Is unbecoming
Of those minds
Still screaming loudest
During slumber
Lost
Each night.

– J. Pigno

Uncertainty
Fuels obsession
Which sees me
Losing my
Grip

As I wake up
Into disaster
On mornings
Found
Out of place

Where death
By fear
Still reigns
Becoming God
In our silence

Left worrying
Locked
Without answers
Behind doors
That kept us safe,

Now jailed
Between these walls
Waiting things out
For some
Reason

As if life itself
Should gain purpose
To continue
Beyond
This point

When normal
Remains obscene
While leaders
Appear
Every minute

So tomorrow
Might prove
Convincing
Though failure
Eludes their choice –

Still denying
Fate can’t change
Watching news
Show those
Not breathing

Stopping time
From advancing
Forward
Since together
We grieve all hope.

– J. Pigno