I deserve this pain
As it comes
From failing to claim
Every moment
Where agony waits
Without patience
While happiness takes
Fewer turns

Than our suffering
Growing content
After weeks spent now
Finding answers
Never worth their weight
In successes
Overshadowed by fear
Feeling tough

When symptoms last
Beyond stretches
Like grieving wounds
Getting better
But crying still
Through their bleeding
Along each cut
Left behind

The surgeon made
Playing God
Believing hope
Was his hubris
Or your judgment calls
Choosing torture
To avoid real death
Through short hell

Not knowing what’s true
Looking white
On tables cold
Seeking heaven
Only finding knives
Despite angels
Now guiding his hands
Making holes

Until constant beeps
Open eyes
Soon waking up
Merely praying
That devil we chose
Was worth sinning
Though my penance
Just cannot agree.

• J. Pigno

Dear WordPress family,

I always want to take certain opportunities to thank you for all the continued support. Your likes and comments continually inspire/facilitate my writing in ways that I couldn’t even begin to adequately describe. I especially appreciate everyone for embracing me and being so kind upon my comeback to daily poetry posting after months away.

That being said, I have been silent for the last week due to a very important event. My wife has recently finished a successful open-heart surgery and is on the road to recovery. We are very blessed, but things are still tough, and her healing is going to a long and arduous journey.

I will be writing again soon. In the meantime, your prayers and best wishes will sustain us through this difficult time.

Love always,

• J. Pigno

Don’t let me be
That man,

The kind who is forced
To remember

Every kiss on your head
After laughing
For hours on end
Before sleep –

An empty husk
In his place,

Letting sacred space
Grow decrepit

With further thoughts
Fearing sadness
Where hope once remained
Most intact,

Now watching you go
Lacking choice

Or glimmer
Of determined faithfulness

Caught through those eyes
Always shining
Even when fate
Seems unkind.

No true love’s spark
Ever dwindles
Despite what winds
Feel intrusive –

These immortal nights
Facing windows
Delivering chills
Barely there

Within bedrooms
Watching each star
Between sheets
So warm and inviting

Burst like suns
Always distant
But nearer than God
Might reveal

While seeing you
Merely content,

Noting heaven
Appeared much closer,

Never going away
Finding meaning

But choosing me
Somehow instead.

This is how I knew
She believed,

Finding twin flames
Rare as real evidence
How miracles thrive
Despite trade-offs
Waiting behind
Better days.

Our marriage
Was worth getting here.

Now tomorrow
Just carries more meaning.

Make memories proud
Being tested.

Have faith
Because we’re enough.

• J. Pigno

Such artistry
In my veins
Is protection
From every emotion
Against those
Who scathe this spirit
And ravage belief
With their words

As imperatives
Based on each line
Denied by a world
Seeking answers
Among false gods
Never showing
Some heaven
Existed at all

Like plagues
Without any proof
But our progress
Biblically challenged
By collapsing skies
Growing hotter
Or the constant cold
Getting worse

Where daily droughts
Only speak
Through promising clouds
Always passing
Before that rain
Even opens
Upon bad ground
We have sown

Across dry lands
Facing death
Implied by sun
Nearly blinding
Those whose rhymes
Provide solace
When lyrical storms
Offer cures

Now nourishing blood
Keeping faith
And beautifully held
Deeply shielded
So infectious lies
Never enter
Some sacred space
Still alive.

• J. Pigno

I always keep
Drawing a blank
When it comes to
Remembering feelings
Which inspire these words
Still regardless
Of what circumstance
Stifles each phrase

As verses untold
After waiting
For years behind grief
Merely mounting
Upon those fears
Besides fortunes
Accompanying ills
Less inclined

To foster these lines
Based in youth
Or powerful needs
Building fire
With cascading flames
Over struggles
Where blood like sparks
Spills its truth

Among cinders
Sharing their light
When expression implies
Growing faithful
Finding prayers
Experience dictates
More than our dreams
Ever could

While staying at home
Playing games
And watching TV
Until sickness
Claims this life
Getting angered
Letting dangerous times
Hold me back

Seeing evening news
Predict ends
No writer should hope
Ever happens
If machines control
Future poems
Soon spreading that germ
Greed becomes.

• J. Pigno

There are rooms
Inherent to dreams
No words could explain
Upon waking
Like windows
Without any context
Peering inside
What has passed

Where context
Escapes every sight
And meaning devolves
Into subjects
Barely described
Beyond feelings
Vaguely defined
Through our thoughts

Which struggle
When witnessing scenes
Pictured on screens
Flashing static
As childhood haunts
Remain vacant
While analog worlds
Appear dark

Between each frame
Kept apart
Through assembled clips
Growing faded
After edited lives
Play on repeat
With white noise soon
Juxtaposed

Against evidence
Blaring so loud
That memories dwell
Among specters
Removed from view
Merely waiting
For another odd sound
Coming close

Behind signals lost
Now believed
To be secret truths
Long forgotten
Hearing old cartoon’s
Distant music
During background shows
Late at night.

• J. Pigno

I’m afraid this is
Really not living,

Being scared of an end
Every second

And reminded
Happiness lingers
Beyond what fears
Remain strong –

Like memories
Yet to be made,

Or a poem
That seeks being written,

Before this death
Which eludes us
Each second we seek
Where it waits.

Only ghosts
Find answers so close

As the rest must yearn
For their slumber

Still hiding in dreams
Every evidence
Of meaning outside
Pleasant thoughts

Within memories
Caught at fate’s brink

When our history turns
Into nightmares,

Facing truths untold
While they happened
But revealed too soon
During sleep –

Since daylight
Haunts me instead,

Waking up
From visiting family

Or being home once more
Without symptoms
Instilling such dread
Morning brings,

Wishing faith
Just wasn’t entrapped

Behind these eyes
Asking heaven

How tomorrow’s pain
Obscures mysteries
Now almost solved
Laying still.

• J. Pigno

The bad son
Faces his penance
Each day these words
Go unwritten
As desperate attempts
Soon defeat him
With no confidence gained
Pulling back –

An image unclear
In that head
When verbally lashed
If unleashing
This imperfect phrase
Being honest
Like a punk rock tune
Lived out loud

For one period
Briefer than songs
Where notes like screams
Serve it better
Than nastier lines
Sparking lyrics
Spoken by those
Claiming love,

Knowing full well
Secrecy sucks
Since expression
Brings harsher opinions
While suppressing
Such deeper conclusions
Surmised from greed
All around.

He’s barely enough
Though they claim
Those failing dreams
Stay respected
Since sadness feigns
Bitter triumph
Or ignoring
How eyes never see

What strength
Hides childhood tears
And fake boldness
Begs their forgiveness
As rebellious whims
Go unnoticed
Until growing too old
For that shit.

• J. Pigno

I don’t understand
Growing old
And how age could bring
Certain wisdom
When loss itself
Remains constant
As the only truth
Staying unchanged

Where each ending
Offers no choice
But a jadedness
So inconsistent
With happiness past
Spent enjoying
Those memories gone
Now for good –

Our loved ones missed
Every morning
Holding empty hearts
Growing bigger
As friends like dawn
Make their exit
Into endless dusk
We all face.

Funny if death
Brings more fear
Than days less lived
Fighting illness
Or sleepless nights
Always thinking
That axe may fall
Very soon,

While time
Weighs heavier still
Reading headlines
Increasingly heinous
Since dangerous trends
Appear common
Getting worried
Such hate will explode.

Every leap
Brings us back two steps,
Yet forward too far
Towards destruction.

What is faith
Nearing hopeless conclusions?

Why burn so bright
Just to fade?

• J. Pigno