Redwillows

oh his rowdier ghosts
nameless cowardly
surround him 
loud enough to drown out
the hissing stream
flowing now
by red
willows

the moon seems to know
as much as one could ever know
his eddy of bubbling dreams
slow current of empty meanings
blurred reflections

and in branches
leaning to the stream
a heart groans
lies alone in a basket
woven tightly by moonlight
cold breath
of a coyote
waiting
wicked
in red
willows

jpestana
12.27.18
Redwillows

Seasons

the winter of her

freezes me in time

cloaks me in fresh snow

the spring in her thaws me

blossoms freely in new born light

the summer of her warms me

heartens me on longer days

and the fall of her

the fall of her

wraps me in all color

leaves me vibrant

a season 
still waiting
wanting

for a 
name

jppestana1

seasons

12.17.2018

Time


this night is only smoke no more
sparks touch rise to become star
he feels a fraction of sky 
a yellow moon protecting
shards of broken rainbow
unearthly tears frozen in place
waiting to be collected admired
there is wonder here for all to see
maybe something more
time rolling as thunder applauds loudly
disturbs his silence for what
a cloaking mist thickly dust spreads out before him
he loses sight stumbles on a marked stone
a circle in circle round and smooth
a thought of time and
time
again

jppestana
12.4.2018
Time

Next

only the crow own these swirling rows
of a scarred forgotten cornfield
they are countless in this wondrous dusk
fencerows that frame their glorious poem
are darker than the dusk
darker than the next hint of loneliness
the crow become their own dark words
loudly shouting to all crow and man
spellbound all
in a knowing
tattered
wind

jppestana
Next
11-9-2018

It Was

as if the crow
had accidentally scratched
the blue from sky
as if just by being
they had somehow stopped the earth in its tracks
tied the axis of me in knots
as if there was anything to it
as if after all this
crow in their deliberate silence
thick wings moving blackly
push past the sun
pass me as if it was
us

jppestana
It Was
11.3.2018

Algarve

when the she becomes she
the palest of moons slides easily
resides in thin pink clouds
palms pines quiver ever so
in silken pink breezes
lips speak to the hidden sea
narrow streets lead to nowhere
then the air becomes still
birds return to their shadows
hearts warm slowly sweetly
to the coming darkness
algarve

JP Pestana
Algarve
9.24.18

The Street Sweeper

just above my eyes
a bee exists with me
a flowering tree 
a bridge suspended
in blue light
some later place exists
before this before anything
below the tall pine women
stretch their bodies in a grassy daze
another sleeps with her hand 
across her breast her heart
cars stream hum in time
and all along the street sweeper
sweeps away smaller clouds of sunny dust
memory of fallen leaves 
from younger trees all
from
me

JP Pestana
The Street Sweeper
Lisbon
9.28.18

Unspoken

how shall we speak

can we

when the only sounds

are from our tears streaming

revealing the history of us 

the myth of our perceptions

the weaknesses we shared

and yes the earth can move

without us

another 

language

lost

jpestana

Unspoken

10.6.2018

Cry Paris

say to me that all that is gone remains

that the ghostly stains of nothing left

are enough of a memory satisfied

and then to me you cry paris

and time is always at its slowest

when it is at its saddest

say when 

crying 

paris

in the 

rain

jppestana

Cry Paris

9.14.18

Loss of Light


she shares every bit of light
lightness with the slightest breeze

she with her summer roses
pale blue hydrangea sings

her leaves are a shimmering gloss
deepest green trees deep
in her summer shadows sway

she moves and all imaginations
move with her

she moves

I strain to
remain
in her 
dimly
fading
image

jppestana
loss of light
7.20.18

Torcido

cascading rains
have washed away the
rutted road
torcido

lightning tore distorted
the night before sky
by morning it had bled blue
the desert air seems the newer for it
ever blue with sky
more sky 

clouds slowly pushed north
by a lone dove may
or may not
return
then a lone
swallow
without
clouds

on the avenida
a spanish man shares his name
for the first time
we agree on names
shake hands
strongly

on camino real
the blossoms trumpet
call at the day
full roses madly color eyes
and the slightest shadow
falls from my cheek
a shadow
no more
torcido

jppestana
torcido
7.12.18

Dead End

secrets told to the barest bones brittle
scream deeply to the crippled lives skeletal 
secrets living in the marrow 
in the core come to be 
become reality
they seal the fate
of the unsuspecting
uncalled they come as dust acidic
thick over undug graves
come to the most innocent 
most unwelcome guests
coming to the end
of all 
ends

jppestana
6.30.18
dead end

Jellyfish

hey darling follow me
the unthinkably long skinny arm
skinnier bonier fingers
of a faceless man point
to nothing in
particular

a heart has been left out (lonely I suppose)
on a stoop on a noisy cranky street
not hidden it beats in plain view for all to see
it beats for no reason other than
to feel its familiar pulsations
to horrify strangers
to please
me

in this desert
tears dry
before they form
sadly they never feel
fall on warmed skin
anticipation of
an anxious
cheek

in this light fluorescence
leaves play their windy games
seem indifferent to the jellyfish
pulsing bells in a gelatinous sky
tentacles stinging at my eyes
my cheeks
my swelling
burning
tears

jppestana
7.3.2018
jellyfish

Supreme Being

the reservation crow
is taking sunday sun on the southerly tracks
whistling trains are forbidden here 
along these hay fields narrow
the bleached cottonwoods 
trunks broken 
branches broken
hung by vines
are ghostly enough holy enough 
stand oddly together in their humble prayers
the crow alone knows 

if their prayers have been heard
alone in the absorbing warmth
faith of his own
being

jppestana
6.30.18
Supreme Being

Bouquet

and dandelions thrive

line the edges of her delicate earth

reach far above the cluster of freckled stars 

she is searching the summer constellations 

for the confusions meaning

of him

while he

pulls her dandelions from the stars

oblivious to the 
blossoming risk

of his own

diminishing
garden

jppestana

bouquet

6.21.18

Layers

frida bakes 

her twelve layer 

very german cake

one layer of love at a time

each layer barely a layer

sweet chocolate spread

so evenly  

so perfectly 

so precisely 

as to defy 

my most 
imperfect

imagination

jpestana

layers

6.18.18

Italy

behind your eyes
I see a lake serene
its impossibly blue waters deeply swelling 
an easy breeze lazily dreaming  slipping away
its impossibly small waves wanting
like her lips first kiss
on an eagerly
waiting
shore

jppestana
italy
6.19.18

Moth

quite often
more than not
I end begin
in sky.
there is
no why.
it is a
simple
punctuation.
it is the sweet cream cold
over ripe plump strawberries.
it is the sweeter cream pinkish
in the bottom of a blue bowl.
it is the dream of trout flashing in the wet sun
leaping over rainbows of their own making.
it is like all things with wings with me.
the tiniest moth flies pointlessly crazily
in the middle of a cool room.
it seems like its possibilities are few
and far far between.
an open window now
too small to see
escaping
moth in
sky.

jppestana
moth
6.17.18

Passing Storm

the summer thunder
summer thunders!
clouds rub
at a blackly fractured sky
polish it
jan (as in january) gathers
her horses from pasture
races from the rain
the rain captures her swallows her
flowers collapse in the torrent
their tortured faces helpless
they may never return
and the wind pushes through the rain
opens holes
the horses run through them disappearing
and jan (as in january)
cries out their names
slapping at wet jeans
cursing out her prayers
she kneels in deeper mud
cut open by a slice
of a still 
dripping
sun

jppestana
passing storm
6.16.18

Sweet Venom

beware of the slithering hiss
of flying snakes
their split tongues
smell the invisible
the moon
its' milky
shadows

in this this darkest night
when the moon succumbs
a poet shows his fangs for all
to hear

he decides he loves love more
than the struggle of love
he lurks in rocks' shadows
along the worn path
ignores all the distractions
but one

eyes quiet
intent
he listens for
the tender words
evocations
most elusive shadow
of all shadows

coiled
he is ready to strike
at anything that may come
his way

jppestana
sweet venom
6.15.18

Iris

fish splashing in iris

bubbles of sun rise to the surface  burst open

fish fleeing to the padded shadows

of sun 
filled 
lilies

jppestana

Iris

6.4.18

Summer Wash

with coffee thick with sugar
almond cookies on a cracked plate
the humidity clings to their words
red flowered cotton dresses
they shout out their laughter
giggle like the girls they were
slap at their damp thighs 
at the punch lines
about husbands 
old lovers 
birth
their hearts lighten 
as the sun hangs high
in curtains thread worn
clothes on lines flap in a thankless jersey breeze
and their amazements continue into singing amore
cheeks running with the salt
of sicilian 
tears

jppestana
summer wash
5.30.18

High Noon

gleaming wings glide

from the heights

the sunburnt branches

of an aging

cedar

on the dirt road

a too slow lizard

a crow's

hasty

lunch

jppestana
High Noon

5.27.2018

Only Dusk

only dusk brings the hummingbirds  back to me

their wings frantic coming   
frantic whirring  
tear the air  

stir me

maybe this is the praying inspiration 

maybe they will bring me into the merging of earths  

yearning colors of dusk throat wing and tongue

the long deep sips of nectar 

still beating wings

the hint of 
an elusive 
moon 
stars

and
you

jppestana

only dusk

5.24.18

Sun & Cloud

the sun 

hung up struggling

in a mounting ring of clouds

rough edged furrowed

slips out of 
my sight

she is a softness blossoming

a smaller garden

a softer cloud revealed 

within an even greater 

cloud

without warning

the sky erupts flames

a mosaic of pale blue light

linen clouds 

clouds burning
burning away
to more clouds
of smoke

in this choking haze

she gazes away from this part of me

wonders if this is life missing 

here in a growing pool 

of new rain

and then her sun runs lemon orange 

streams from the coarse heavens

streams through the coarseness of me

through the shouts

of what few clouds

remain

jppestana

sun&cloud

5.21.18

The Plain Man


he is silenced in a place
of long harshly hardened shadows
voices deathly echoes
here the bright blurring of wings rising
to a shrunken sky
go unnoticed
unheard
unsung
and his sun is just some distant unfulfilled wish
and the sound of rain is long forgotten
and the adobe walls of roses
crumble where the sun once rose
melted gold over their trellis tender petals
where roses once heard the stories of love 
love lost
love never 
found
and the women long for the roses of love alive
with morning dew
and the dust is heavy over every living thing
and the wind rattles in these helpless choking streets
and the mad walk in their broken stumbling circles
their mumbled prayers shouted out in vain to
a god drowned out by louder traffic
and their dogs at their feet bark
at the far off sound
of other
dogs


jppestana
the silent man
5.16.18