REPRIEVE

REPRIEVE

is it okay if I lay beside you?
because I can’t keep my eyes open much longer
i’ve been pretty tired as of late
and things have seemed
to slow down around me.

is it okay if I cry on your pillowcase?
i’d wash it but it’ll dry soon enough
that’s the way an old ache goes
flowing with the deep thaw
soon parched from summer’s haze.

is it okay if I call out old names in the dark?
the more I speak them the more I’ll remember
not to forget
i’d like to write them in a jazz song someday
sing a melody whether the band’s ready or not.

is it okay if I lay beside you?
won’t be much longer till I see the light
and that old ache flows on
whisper to me while my breaths grow shallow
whisper to me goodnight.

~ Joseph A. Pinto

© Copyright 2013 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

PALACE

monument

PALACE

In this darkness I have longed, yet only now do you approach beneath my canopy of sentinels. Wordless, though I have screamed centuries for you. Guileless, though now indeed you have been warned.

I shall devour your pretenses; leave shorn your bravado. I am your beast, and under granite columns shall you be reborn. You cannot flee, because I have been yours all along. Your heart pumping with my blood.

Embrace me, then. Succumb to my wild. From this moment on know that I shall be your shadow in the woods. This timbered palace holds a refuge, yours and mine.

© Copyright 2013 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

(first appeared in Damned Words 3, July 30, 2013)

One thing that my fellow Pen of the Damned members and myself absolutely love are our flash projects – one picture and a hundred words, no more, no less, in which to tell its story or convey its emotion – Damned style. This particular photograph was taken by our very own Nina D’Arcangela, and it is truly stunning! Join us every Tuesday for a new telling of angst and horror, only at www.PenoftheDamned.com

BOWED STILL I STRIDE

BOWED STILL I STRIDE

Your purpose seems hell-bent on serving to demassify me –
when will you learn that unlike the storms that have reshaped your landscape,
I will never seek higher ground.
I will not compartmentalize to fit any ideal but my own;
bowed still I stride,
and when your voice hits hurricane pitch in protest, I will know I lived free of compromise
after all.

© Copyright 2015 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

STRAIN

STRAIN

The E.R. seemed quiet
a ruined man coughing up ghosts
sneezing lies of what home should be
an overweight woman bleeding from her soul,
condescending son lamenting his late night
and they avoid my gaze (well they should)
for my pain would serve only to break them.
Pretty nurse takes pulse, pressure
eyes sparkling as they meet my own
“Sir, this may hurt a bit” (needle penetrates my joint).
I laugh, make one thing clear:
“Never me.”
The E.R. seemed quiet
now the pretty nurse choked on ghosts
wheezing breaths where life should be
if only she had looked away.

© Copyright 2013 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

Your Answer

YOUR ANSWER

And for every answer you want
from me, I ask
how could I be without you?
And for every reason you demand
of me, I ask
how could I flow if my river
runs dry?
I know you tire of the constant game of tag we seem
to play
but without your laughs echoing
my playground
this seesaw falls short of
the sky.
So for every explanation you seek
of me, I ask
how could you ever be far from
my eye?

© Copyright 2015 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

Sworn

bolts2

SWORN

 I thought you would follow, but the willow reed swallowed me whole
At least that’s the excuse you sold…
I’d been too busy tightening bolts
Preparing for traffic that would never come.
On the opposite end of nothing now
I’ve teetered upon this sharp edge far too long
Waiting for that willow reed to part
A path once cut through it; I suppose now it’s gone
Should my bridge someday be crossed
Unlike that lost, forgotten route
I’ll keep to tightening bolts, even if my hands get torn
The willow reed once led the way, at least
So you’d sworn.

(first appeared in Damned Words 2, June 1, 2013 )

One thing that my fellow Pen of the Damned members and myself absolutely love are our flash projects – one picture and a hundred words, no more, no less, in which to tell its story or convey its emotion – Damned style. This particular photograph was taken by our very own Nina D’Arcangela, and it is truly stunning! Join us every Tuesday for a new telling of angst and horror, only at www.PenoftheDamned.com