Learning to love
What you are
Is a space
That’s held
For real beauty

Where daring makes
All the difference
Letting value
Prove
We can fly –

Not hate that holds
Meaning back
And divides
With fear
Unintended

When surrendering truth
Too substantial
Like loss
Which twists
How we dream,

By preventing change
Always bold
Through greatness
Claimed
After falling,

Nearly silent now
Before leaping
But soon
Will soar
Being said.

Their heavy codes
Never cared
For leaving
Ground
If agreeing.

Defiance shows
Better promise
Out there
Among stars
Sitting high –

Still flying
Despite bitter men
Pitting lies
Against
Honest brightness,

Scared of those
Become weightless
So nothing
Can keep us
Tied down.

• J. Pigno

This geek gave up
And got old
As he realized
Nothing is
Sacred

When the things
Which seemed
So important
Just didn’t bring joy
Anymore

Like they had
In youth
Feeling new
With friends who stood
Right beside him

Now alone
At home
Rarely leaving
Since learning that love
Meant defeat –

Another sad wish
Coming true
Few adults
Had warned
Were consuming

Where others
Ignored
Growing empty
By working again
Skipping breaks,

Seeking happier days
Never spent
Always missing
What’s fun
For us losers

Like toys unwrapped
Being vintage
Or playing
Those games
Really long.

I’m still that kid
Deep inside
But obscured
Through age
Trailing sickness,

Telling my wife
Watching movies
Reminds me
How special
It was.

• J. Pigno

Yes, I’m afraid
You’re right –
There is no pride
In my talents,

Or worth which means
Making money
For those who dare
Never work

Yet cannot feel
Besides words
Still eluding dreams
Within limits

Of tangible lives
Better suited
To hearts that can’t
Take the blame.

Such hope will kill
Every line
Demanding pain
Speak its passions,

Suffering verse
Losing blessings
By walking away
When they hurt

And spitting on God
As some must
While praying inside
His forgiveness

May allow more ink
Spilling over
Beneath such veins
Fear has split –

Feigning belief
Barely known
And awaiting death
Turning pages

Any average soul
Keeps withstanding
Fighting what’s fake
Through one voice.

Our reality hits
Pretty hard
Where poetry stands
Against reason –

Another bad phrase
So inspired
But purposeless now
Like this gift.

• J. Pigno

Our minds
Make detailed maps
Where fear
Finds emptier spaces
And lingering thoughts
Drawing pictures
In place of truth
Telling tales

Like something real
When it’s not
Or narratives sought
Feeling needed
When believing lies
Better suited
To ignoring pain
We suppress

If pursuing dreams
Never lost
But denied deep down
Merely waiting
For another excuse
Barely noticed
Under rituals held
Without choice

Taking joy from days
Spent obsessed
With meaningless chores
Missing answers
Revolving around
Simple pleasures
Whose questions posed
Trigger doubt

Just opening doors
Always there
Beneath this skin
Nearly cracking
At banging one’s head
Against faces
So unique
Yet similarly scarred

That reflect their hope
Long denied
Still believing scenes
Which keep playing
Like film reels looped
Now distorted
By a focus
The present has maimed.

• J. Pigno

My parents would
Visit Las Vegas
When I was young
During Christmas
To see such things
Barely noticed
But now in this mind
Appear strange,

Like grey arcades
Needing light
With sounds so faint
Leaving echoes
Letting liminal space
Draw its contrast
Between innocence
And jaded adults –

Hearing children cry
Waiting still
Down abandoned halls
Staying hidden
Among sad machines
Lacking power
Or that neon glow
Far away

Where grown-ups bet
Bitter dreams
Leading broken lives
Unfulfilling
As kids brought there
Went unnoticed
While playing alone
In those rooms,

Watching moms and dads
Wasting cash
Missing better times
Spent together
Swearing someday soon
After growing
Their souls would hate
What they viewed

Before smokey dens
Called them back
Beating buffet lines
Feeling hungry
Keeping so much more
Than expected
Winning lots
But losing all faith.

• J. Pigno

We can never escape
Fitting lyrics
Which have issued
Their timeless apology

To perpetual youth
Still unsettled
By a world undone
Now for good –

Generations stacked
With bereavement
And rebellion
Mourned like intention

Of those artists left
Who attempted
At offering truth
While they could,

As each song
Stays eerily relevant
In decades wrong
We keep choosing

When treating fate
More expendable
Than our failing discs
Spinning round,

Since playing low
Though repeating
That needle’s noise
Become static

Against louder screams
Drowning voices
Only deafened regimes
Cannot hear.

I’m forever
An angry young man
Catching vinyl notes
Between heartbeats,

Dancing where walls
Split connections
Envisioning hope
Barely there –

These guitar riffs
Capturing feelings
Crafted so raw
Though meticulous,

Another sad song
Proving anthems
Predict stories
Real once again.

• J. Pigno

We still must fight
The embellished
With its lies so bold
That they glimmer,

And words which flash
When repeated
Blinding all those
Who can see –

A light extreme
Bearing witness
To deceive those forced
In dark corners

And remain obscure
Despite begging
For one small lamp
Of their own.

No wick worth flames
Lacks acceptance
By rejecting hands
Bearing candles,

Faking each flare
Wasting fire
Using brilliance now
Against truth.

Some beacons
Burn before eyes
Can perceive such rays
Causing tinders,

Killing us all
Using radiance
How skies guide souls
Toward no end –

So deep into space
Left adrift
Upon restless beams
Seeking something,

But rarely defined
Going farther
Than any decent God
May allow.

Could honest men
Really thrive
If appearing dim
Though impeccable?

Anyone bright
Only sparkles
By oppressing stars
Left unknown.

• J. Pigno

I am not fooled
By the glitter
Which conceals
Their sadness
In sparkles

Or a shimmer
Of pasts
Hung on branches
Where yesterdays
Dangle like weights,

Such tears held down
Falling heavy
Along evergreens
Lighted
And garnished

As these decorative
Tombs
Bearing keepsakes
Remembering times
Better spent –

Our glass orbs
Hanging
With photos
Besides colorful bulbs
Feigning solace

Since ghosts
Inside
Rare mementos
Remain present
In glows they reflect.

Can we truly
Forget
Who is living
Letting phantoms
Carry those trinkets,

If holidays come
Just to suffer
What wrath
Every legacy
Yields?

Some prefer
Forgetting again
Though running
Hardly
Means winning.

My winter
Accompanies feelings
Warm
Yet cold
All the same.

• J. Pigno

I’m on my way
Towards an end
No God who cares
Would appreciate

When our demons help
Bitter heavens
Ensure that hell
Here and now –

Easy suffering
Forced to comply
Despite what love
Appears selfish

Or feeble attempts
At escaping
By resisting sins
Swallowed whole

In acts of fear
Bottles hold
With pills like dreams
Counted daily

Through another dose
Seeking some solace
But fleetingly felt
Wearing off,

Where failure learns
Nothing lasts
Seeing agony beg
Certain devils

For one more chance
Worth redeeming
Before learning fate
Isn’t real

When dying again
Every night
Implies waking still
Being empty

Knowing hope itself
Cannot heal us
Only kill
What’s already dead.

Yes, perhaps
Arriving on time
Means avoiding pain
Any further,

Since enduring life
Never mattered
If breathing less
While aware.

• J. Pigno

Here’s to
The angry young man
Inside this shell
Feeling haggard

With a few last lines
Aging poorly
From remaining unwell
Everyday

As maturing minds
Missing youth
Are rarely at rest
When explaining

All that constant pain
Lacking reason
Other than God
Hates them more

Than truths held down
Seeking words,

What hearts will write
Needing rhythm,

Now potentially lost
Before learning
Only beautiful beats
Always skip –

Knowing poetry kills
Through belief,

Ignoring how blind
Illness makes us

Where examples build
Over decades
Finding beauty obscure
If not close

Under wrinkled flesh
Growing numb,

Letting failures sit
Like exhaustion

Upon each term
Having madness
Its appropriate voice
Which responds.

I wish time would wait
Just for once,

Leaving ample room
Around wisdom

Until such rage
Jades expressiveness,

Fading so fast
While we rot.

• J. Pigno