Dissections 2



This isn’t for you
This poem
This song
Everything and anything that’s ever come before.

Cause you haven’t been worth my breath
You haven’t been worth my time
You haven’t been worth the wait
For this pen’s ink to dry.

So to you
And to you alone
This isn’t for you
This beer
This shot
Everything and anything I’ve ever drank before.

Cause you haven’t been worth my buzz
You haven’t been worth the sickness
Or this need to die.

So to you
And to you alone
This is nothing.



Imploring eyes
Though I can’t see you
Even as you bleed
Leaving a dripping trail
Of gristle
Over the blankets of comfort I draw for you
As my words remain the coldest reminder of all
That liars reach conclusions
And truth tellers grasp at straws
Soon this sun will set
The wind will howl
Cross the land mother moon
Exposes for all.



Sitting beside me
Straining with weary eyes
To see the devil’s script in his palm.

Sitting next to me
Loving with open eyes
The man shut from her heart.

Sitting across from me
Reveling in dreamy talk
Strengthening a foundation of denial.

Fueling the fire
Let it burn.



From here
I see everything
Nuance, twitch, inflection
Nothing goes unnoticed
Yet nothing judged
Why should I?
I sit merely to observe
Watch, study, comprehend
From here
I know everything
Life, loss, lover
Your entire world now mine
Yet I’m unknown
Why am I?
I’m merely here Thursday nights.
From there
You see nothing
Pain, want, need
So much goes unnoticed
And you don’t hear
How can you?
Above the jukebox and pleas for double scotch.



You’re not the hero of the day
You don’t even own a cape
Keep running into empty buildings
Keep saving dreams once they’ve broken
It’s easier that way for you
To collect that cash reward
And adulation
From those even more oblivious
You’re only faster than a speeding bullet
Cause you take the coward’s way of things
You’re a fraud, a fraud
The hollow need something to believe in
The scared need reasons to run away
The children need a role model
Fashioned from something other than a rental suit.



You don’t get to do this
You don’t get to steal my pain
And use it like a kerchief round your neck.

Only I know how dear it is
Only I know of its warm invite
Before its cold deep bite into my flesh.
But you see it and wish to take it,
Tame it
Drag it back into its cage.


It won’t happen
I won’t allow it
You don’t get to do this
Not anymore.

For if my pain you steal from me
Is something you truly want
Then know how dear my smile will be
With my fingers entwined round your neck.



I see you often
walking your puppy
as you jerk its choker
until its tongue protrudes in a pink slather
until its eyes roll in its head.

I see you often
leading your puppy
as you drag it through mud
through thorny brush
kicking it from behind.

I see you often
petting your puppy
as you slap its face
dig fingers into its ribs.

Funny how time flies.

I see your dog often
running on its own now
its leash untethered
burying its bone deep into your neighbor’s hole
pissing and shitting on your car
Good boy.



Three simple words
in night
upon lips
in shadows.
Three simple words
shared without provocation
born in deeper shallows of grey
My gift yours
this bitter pill
forced to consume
shared without invocation
born in deeper pools of black
Swallow, choke, die.



Such a crafted hand
splays skin until bloody ribbons
speak my story so precisely
and just as I wish to scream no more
my tale starts anew
another chapter split open
truth seared



He lived to see another day
That poor prick’s heart still beating within his chest
He’d stolen it
With dull blade
And a shaking disloyal hand
Devoured it; consumed joyously all his own.
The last remnants
Not the crimson dripping from chin
As some would have you believe
But the jackhammer thud of taken essence
Screaming bloody murder between his lungs.



Promise me
The drink you pour will be my last
For I’m beyond saving
Yet still a good tip in your pocket
If you keep me alive.
That brew will send me to the gutter
That brandy will keep me in the streets
This booze will deliver me to the gates
I thought I could never find.
You seem to be my Maker
At least on this night
Because you’ll right all my wrongs
And make my wrongs worse than what they were
Thank you
May I have another?



He’s barely cooled
And you’ve got him packed
His entire existence fit neatly
Into department store bags
The likes of which
He’d never been welcome inside before
His gentle presence shoved
With careful consideration, mind you
Of how one end might interlock with the other.

Heartless cruel bitch
You wiped him clean
From your blackened slate of memory
Already smudged
Of chalky goodbyes
No thought given
To any thread of lingering
For you’ve cut the strand and made it to burn.

The final indignation
Does not resonate with the fact
That you’ve left him no chance to cool
But the absurd notion
That I’ll grant him
His final ride
In a procession of stale boxes.

Oh no
He lives on otherwise in my grassy field meadows
Not your yellowed department store bags.



I am rattlesnake
I am earthquake
I am lightning rod
I am heart attack
I am cool hand
I am cold heart
I am motherfucker
I am father love
I am old dog
I am sly fox
I am lone wolf
I am broken man
I am deep sea
I am shallow thought
I am long kiss
I am almighty fuck
I am bright sun
I am evil dark
I am black sheep
I am wise one
I am.

~ Joseph A. Pinto

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

51 thoughts on “Dissections 2

    1. Hi Emily!! Thank you very much for taking the time to read my little collection! πŸ™‚
      It’s always interesting with poetry because each piece will strike a different chord with readers, for whatever the reason.
      The 2 poems you selected are definitely more of my ’emotive’ pieces
      Thank you again for you interest & support, Emily! πŸ™‚


    1. Thank you so much, Abbie! πŸ™‚
      This collection has a bit of a theme, while at the same time not so much lmao I suppose I enjoy being a rule breaker lol
      I appreciate you taking the time to read πŸ™‚


  1. Joe, amazing poetry! Fido had me lol. Hero just because was intriguing. what inspired it? You are so very talented, and I always smile when I see something new from you in my inbox.


    1. Hey Jaimie, thank you very much!! πŸ™‚
      “Hero Just Because” was inspired by those who seem to think it’s okay to abuse the power behind a badge…I won’t say anymore lol
      I appreciate all your kindness and support!! Well, what you look forward to only fuels me more! πŸ™‚


  2. Hi Joe! Another great collection of poetry. While I appreciate them all for different reasons, particularly the angry and angst ridden pieces, I think my favorite work is House of Cards. Something about its indifference toward life and cold but not clinical observation appeals to me. Not being a poet, I can’t truly explain why other than to say it really struck a cord with me.

    Very nicely done, Tale Weaver! ;}


    1. Hi Nina!! Thank you very much! πŸ™‚ “House of Cards” is what I consider one of my ‘observatory’ pieces…just sitting, wondering what goes through the minds of others…of course, I manage to twist it a bit darker lol

      I’ve said it once & I’ll say it again; I’m not a poet lol But I simply love writing it! It just seems to clear my mind & lends so many ideas & angles to my horror fiction…in addition to writing a superb plot, a story needs feeling, emotion, as you well know & do an expert job at yourself. The more I write poetry, the deeper my fictions becomes.

      Thank you always for your support, Nina!! It’s never-ending as well unbelievably appreciated!! πŸ™‚


  3. Wonderful dark words as always. My favourites: ‘Bliss’ and ‘I Am’. I love your poems and songs. xx


  4. Dark and depressing, Joe. My kind of reading! πŸ™‚ I love the word “gristle”; yanks on my guts real good. Do you know Stephanie Wytovich? She’s the poetry editor at Raw Dog Screaming Press.


    1. Hey Lee…yeaaaaah!!!! lol
      Thank you for taking the time to read!! I only know Stephanie in a roundabout way via Twitter. Is this something she might enjoy? Perhaps you can steer her to the Damned… πŸ™‚
      Thank you again!


  5. So to you
    And to you alone
    This is nothing.

    The ending of the first poem says it all to me, Joe. I know someone like this, and this is a much classier statement than get fucked. Bad Blaze. Good Joe.

    Wonderful collection you have here, my friend!



  6. What a wonderful collection of pain and anguish, two things that are (*to-use-a-cliche smile*) music to my (pointy) ears. My what a wonderful little trip through the terrible mind of angst. If I had to pick one of the 13, I would say I particularly enjoyed Rite. But then, I would… *eviscerating grin*


    1. Thank you very much, my Wulven brother of all that is Daemon-ly!

      Several people seem to have taken a liking to ‘Rite.’ I always find it interesting to who will like what, and for why…

      I am thrilled you have found delight in my ocean of pain lol


  7. Cazzo love!! Wow…just wow. Nearly speechless! Can feel every bit of anger and resentment …taste every drop of that honey brown liquor …see every bit of red. You are so very very gifted with the pen. Your words are fucking good love! Bravo Joey! Grazie for sharing this! Hugs, Bxxx


    1. Hey Bells! lol Thank you so much!! Yes, I write my poetry in ‘simple’ nature, but I make sure it carries a punch. I’m always appreciative of your kindness and support of me! πŸ™‚


  8. Sensual, bitter, beautiful, resonant, lyrical… As so many others have said already, the collection here really is something special. I think the best thing about them is their honesty. They sing with passion and power and a fierce sadness that does not want to be pitied or understood, just heard. Thanks for sharing, Joe.


    1. Tom, that’s the prettiest description I’ve ever heard of what I consider to be ugly poetry lol But thank you so much…I’m appreciative that you’re able to view my style as something more than just what’s on the surface, both in structure & emotion. And yes, you nailed it, my friend – it’s never about being pitied or understood…who doesn’t wish to have a simple ‘ear’ from time to time? πŸ™‚

      Thank you so much again, Tom!!


  9. Fantastic collection of musings, Tale weaver! It’s hard to pick a favorite! ‘THREE SIMPLE WORDS’ was great in it’s potent punch, ‘CAMP OF REALIZATION’ was pure poetic truth, ‘THIS ISN’T FOR YOU’ oozes with deliciously bitter angst, and FIDO was good for a laugh! Need I say more? Excellent work, Joe!


    1. Hey Tyr!! Thank you buddy!! There’s a little bit of everything within the poems of ‘Dissections 2.’ Like a angst-ridden buffet, I’m very happy you sampled them all lol


    1. Thank you very much, Magenta! πŸ™‚ It’s cool that so many of you have varied favorites from this particular collection of prose I put together. πŸ™‚ Much appreciated!


  10. Damn Joe, that’s some good stuff. I enjoyed all of them. Each piece allowed me to connect to it in a different way, but there are two that spoke the most to me…

    Thursday Night at the Pub – I love to watch people, and have spent more than my share of time watching, visually consuming other people.

    I AM – I read this and immediately it resonated within me. I’ve been told that I’m a walking contradiction, dichotomy on two legs, and my response has always been simple. I am me, don’t try to put me into a fucking box so you can understand me, don’t try to categorize me, and don’t think I’m something that cat fit easily into your “Dewey Decimal System” of a lifestyle.

    Your last poem struck quite the chord. Thanks Joe!


    1. Hi Zack! Thank you for the kind words, my friend; I’m very happy that you’ve been able to relate to some of my words.
      Yes, people watching…I may not remember names all that well, but nuances & vibes, that I hardly forget. It always seems to surface somehow in characters I write or, as in this case, my poetry.
      lol “I AM”…I am a walking contradiction as well; it’s me, something I offer no apology for, something I proudly carry like a brand.
      Thank you for all your support, Zack!!


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