My mother
Can only see beauty
Even when things
Aren’t pretty
Like her son grown old
Feeling heavy
From a weight
Both real and unsure

Earning doubtful eyes
He will share
With the one whose love
Blinds her greatly
After years spent close
Fighting battles
Their home has made
Cozy beds

Where agony’s grasp
Doesn’t threaten
But enrich that bond
Truly special
Even when such pain
Appears fated
Never facing days
Truly bad

Wishing always
God would just listen
Over future plans
Being spoken
Precious years may waste
Passing quickly
While preparing time
Better spent

Until dreaming
Comforts me less
Finding words on-screen
During nightmares
In our theater lost
Among memories
Showing reels
Of ugliest films

Starring me
As talentless bulk
Playing “husky kid
Lacking meaning”
Despite swearing
How worthy this phrase is
Needing effort
No longer enjoyed.

• J. Pigno

Some prayers
Are better unanswered
As it keeps such faith
Reignited
By unfortunate pleas
Only relevant
When needing that push
To believe

After normalcy
Squashes each flame
Yet demands more fuel
For raw tinder
Set ablaze through hurt
Become cinders
Like those ashes lost
Deep inside

But surrounding hearts
Grown inflamed
Once engulfed with grief
Getting colder
Until even pain
Has no meaning
Since soon this chill
Feels subdued

Deeply feared
Though known all along
Sensing God outside
Aching bodies
Warming souls right up
Choosing willingness
If accepting hope
Is the cure

Like an anger
Thawed from regret
Still pulsing hard
Under fingers
Across memories
Begging their violence
Towards ourselves
When spirit forgets

Yielding reasons
Change can occur
Giving ample room
Taking notice
Of true miracles then
Never witnessed
Looking far beyond
Here and now.

• J. Pigno

Can you tell me
What remains real
When our words
Are never that honest –

This sleight of hand
Merely spoken
Rather than seen
Off the cuff?

How expression
Tricks every ear
If shared in terms
Always gorgeous,

Proving magic
Fails such adornment
Appearing flawed
While up close –

Perceiving rags
As their phrase
So another boast
May deny them

Since illusions
Uttered by poets
Make little
But puffs of smoke

Between fools
Exhaling their breath
Yet exhausting truths
Deeply hidden,

Still agreeing
Pretty concealments
Just feel more right
Faking soul

During periods
Forcing attempts
Where an empty page
Tells it plainly

From our burnout
Being that serious
Far too much
Over time.

No mirror
Can purely deceive
Like some petty trick
Pulling rabbits.

Only misery
Offered on stages
Fills theaters again
Though a fraud.

• J. Pigno

I’m afraid
Something feels off
Like a spiritual surge
Which can spiral
Into physical hell
Inexplicable
Soon failing all words
That define

What overnight ills
Make me shake
Just waking up now
Nearly panicked
Since knowing today
Cannot manage
Another bad sign
Left ignored

When pain
Lacks appropriate terms
Or causality
Deemed as demented
While suffering thoughts
Trailing symptoms
Preceding these spells
Without name

Where electric chills
Take control
And remove all choice
Moving forward
Against those odds
Growing dangerous
But appearing fine
For the rest

Unable to speak
How they burn
Beneath our skin
Always crawling
Merely sensing threats
Unacknowledged
Most people believe
Aren’t there

But disturb us
More than we know
Still nauseous at birth
Never noticed
Until pain itself
Becomes evident
Living man’s white lie
Every day.

• J. Pigno

I suffocate now
During sleep
Dreaming of days
Which await me
And mornings so dry
Tasting illness
Having blood and green
In this nose

Praying somehow
These sandpaper eyes
Will finally see
Something different
Than sights soon lost
Always burning
After opening up
Facing light

That God insists
Remains good
Even though such sun
Appears joyless
While suffering pain
Ever present
Both physical
And mental at once

Just how all grief
Rears its meaning
Through hardship bound
Towards persistence
Against real fear
Coexisting
Despite each attempt
Fighting back

When putting on clothes
Is a triumph
Defying what thoughts
Create symptoms
Like our nightmares
Witnessed come morning
From startling truths
Never grasped

Where the past finds souls
Needing healing
Reliving lost hells
Very briefly
Behind closed lids
Begging heaven
Tomorrow’s new day
Won’t repeat.

• J. Pigno

It’s impossible
Not to feel slighted
As I’ve swallowed
Such doses of silence
Like a poisonous grief
Unrelenting
When all others
Find happiness close

In their media feeds
Posting pictures
And everyday texts
Disingenuous
For showing off love
Barely grateful
But always too late
Looking back

Where memories rest
Under pavement
Now walked at night
Growing lonely
Watching nearby streets
Erect graveyards
Still faster than age
Could allow

From these friendships
Fading through whims
After blocking lives
Using cellphones
Once held so dear
Even family
Seems detached
Pressing fingers on keys

Losing precious times
Playing tricks
Forgetting our games
Between tables
Or across TVs
Like we treasured
During analog years
Become myth

Knowing hurt
Has made me irate
Wishing hope stayed home
Behind windows
Hiding empty bars
Called the present
Surely sad
With tomorrow outside.

• J. Pigno

My obsessions
Are carried in dreams
Which have turned each night
Ever sleepless

Always wrestling fear
So intangible
Until thoughts obscured
Make it real

Like an unknown threat
Meant to punish
What secluded beliefs
Force their entry

When breaking down doors
Barely noticed
Until jostling locks
Disturb rest

Alone at home
Slowly gasping
And gagging on spit
During slumber

Though silently choked
Where decaying
Inside this mind
Feeling chased

By scissors with strands
Stuck between them
Or another bad day
Looking hideous

Despite that attempt
For perfection
Still never achieved
While awake

Though ridiculous
As I may seem
Pursued once more
Fleeing mirrors

Absurdly caught
Always staring
Pretending relief
May invade

But caring so much
Things superfluous
Just manifest pain
More indignant

Than nervousness
Twisting perceptions
Become terrors explored
Losing choice.

• J. Pigno

I’m writing
Without any reason
Other than faking
Real talent
So far from my own
Merely evident
By the fact these words
Must repeat

Yet again as portrayed
Over stanzas
Always counting their lies
Neatly hidden
Left adjacent and dull
Lacking purpose
Beyond forcing belief
There is some

Left behind old lines
Grown redundant
Like that one misuse
Still too many
Which haunts each phrase
Missing context
Through an instance lost
In this grief

But remembered now
For a moment
Hiding blatant truths
Long forbidden
When expressing pasts
Never questioned
Until pushing them out
While repressed

Since hope feels numb
After praying
Even more than dreams
Sitting stagnant
Until vaguest terms
Offer subtext
If translating prose
Barely read

At least where eyes
Can perceive it
Yet exposed through breath
Seeming voiceless
Feeling deaf
Despite being noticed
For failing hard
Every time.

• J. Pigno

Many vagabonds
Count their sins
In the parking lots
Outside strip malls

Taking each stone
For one blessing
Ruined by a chance
Never had

Across asphalt
Littered with rocks
Representing loss
Better questioned

By God Himself
Feeling ruthless
Turning fate so wrong
Overnight

Where they fail last shots
Under awnings
Facing evening’s cold
Growing desperate

Letting passersby
Give them glances
Before reaching back
Grabbing cash

Seeing neon signs
Slowly fade
While driving away
Always leaving

Taking luxury cars
Over distance
So far enough now
We forget

And hearing my wife
Merely whisper
Just jot it all down
Or remember

Certain faces
Proving that gospel
Keeping truth by bags
Become beds

How perhaps sometimes
I still write
Since only this pen
Ever answers

When seeming deep down
Very homeless
Despite trying too hard
To ignore.

• J. Pigno

I pray that
You’ll never know
These waiting rooms
Better than spaces
Where happier times
Stay remembered
While their emptiness
Swallows me whole

As another day
Filling with grief
Claims this gasping faith
Merely clinging
Onto fading dreams
Barely breathing
When facing doors
Always closed

Hearing doctors
Offer some speech
Even science can’t prove
Like religion
Lacking any such name
But a gospel
Assumed to be real
Though it fails

Letting anger
Throw off my pulse
Skipping heartbeats
Missing all purpose
Losing rhythm
Sadder than feelings
Held between screams
Never heard

Until agony
Kills what persists
Through futile hope
Now remaining
Around those we love
Chasing circles
Pushing back
Against every attempt

Yet believing
Change can occur
Despite repeats
Ruling existence
From fearful nights
Facing symptoms
For mornings
Greeting them still.

• J. Pigno