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

There’s just nothing new
On the phone
As days feel long
Spent ignoring
Our imminent threat
Come of laziness
Spawned from life
Seeming stale

And trying to force
What we must
Knowing fortune fails
Every labor
Like major attempts
At real progress
Stalled by fear
Hitting back

With open-hand slaps
Making marks
Across these mouths
Growing silent
Learning words will work
Still against us
Since speaking implies
Being judged

For another belief
Gone unheard
Or poem so true
It is dangerous
When idleness builds
Mounting pressures
Only honesty seeks
Through such voice

If sitting around
Needing hope
Beyond this feed
Lacking meaning
But left on read
Writing phrases
Soon igniting truths
Turning bright

At tomorrow’s risk
Drawing near
Watching worlds explode
While forgetting
Though sitting down now
Always tired
Wishing somehow
Change could exist.

• J. Pigno

I was rushing once
Getting old
When the morning news
Interrupted

And they called me home
Over speakers
To never look back
On that bliss –

How youth seemed dull
Before long
Since days spent then
Weren’t tainted

Or perpetually wrong
Reading headlines
How our childhood crush
Isn’t there

Anymore
Like towers erased
Or another bad dream
Over decades

Since dismissed from school
That September
As a grown up
Losing all faith.

Sometime soon
Wouldn’t come
While waiting again
For my program

Finding channels locked
Behind feelings
Where commercials
Hid better lives –

Catching memories
Heard being passed
Knowing innocence
Seemed so impatient

Yet corrupted
Facing disaster
Watching analog
Going off-air.

Even characters
Loved but deceased
Define what sun
Keeps believing

By existing
Only in TV
Rising slowly
During your sleep.

• J. Pigno

There are eyes
Which stare
From a distance
Outside this dream
Caught in winter

Letting snow
Fall down
Through its darkness
Where predators
Stalk what is seen

At the window
Waiting for lights
Like my nightmare
Cold
But deceiving

Since candles glow
Rather brightly
Feigning warmth
With fear
Close behind

As dangerous grins
Show their teeth
Almost sure
That house
Has no exits

Or meaning
Sealed
Under doorways
Once an entrance
Locked yet again

Nailing planks
Along every seam
Blocking chimneys
Filled
Leaving fires

During evenings
Smoke
Has more purpose
Than dinner
Alone and afraid

Believing beasts
Never end
While hungry
Still
Needing purpose

Among those woods
Being threatened
Between shelter
Lost
And disturbed.

• J. Pigno

The bad things
Always play out
Inside my mind
Before sleeping
When intrusive thoughts
Have their chances
At ruining dreams
Every night

Where this headspace
Always seems dark
While our TV plays
As I wrestle
With flashing lights
Between memories
Soon waking us up
More disturbed

Like film scenes
Torn from old reels
Which burned so fast
After learning
Such days we miss
Become burdens
Weighing down hope
Barely left

If predicting fate
Too unreal
All souls must brave
Still uncertain
That any good God
Could just dangle
Over faithful hearts
Seeking rest

By enduring fears
They can’t shake
Or redeeming lives
Nearly wasted
And running away
Towards obsessions
Hiding happiness
Under success

But asking each moon
For escape
Only finding hurt
Upon begging
Hitting pillows
Quietly thinking
Bedroom shadows
Of horror turn true.

• J. Pigno

I think it’s bad
To be famous
Because influence
Always seems saddest
If everyone knows
Who the face is
And only
A story that sells

But not that truth
By description
Of brilliant turns
Sharing spotlights
Where cameras burn
Bitter smiles
Over unknown frowns
Just beneath

As childhood dreams
Pay in cash
Through empty realms
Feeling flattered
Like earning checks
Feigning memories
For this present
Barely expressed

While experienced
Numb from success
Though passively lost
When admitted
Making vapid scenes
Trading stories
During talk shows
Hiding defeat

Since abuses
Never come close
Needing substance
Other than liquor
Always seeking thrills
Merely human
Many bragging souls
Cannot grasp

Leaving theaters
Dead before long
With compared applause
After pictures
Making legacy
Seem so unneeded
Pitting honest life
Against film.

• J. Pigno