The Perch

 I am no one until I speak 

afraid of my own failing voice 

I retreat eclipsed assisted 

by some awkward accomplice sworn 

to secrecy too old to know the whole truth

pulled away by talons and wings

out of the blue I am no one again 

forgotten before 

I was ever 

remembered 

 

JPPestana

The Perch

2.9.2022

 

 

 

 The Borrow Pond

I imagine I carried this borrow pond with me for a week 

or month buried deep in my right pocket crumbled marked 

up with a word or two mostly borrowed I worried a bit

about its future until I forgot about it

like so many things lately it seemed real until it didn't

edged by reeds leaning maples green winter wheat and road

maybe I dreamed it in Japanese with it's still silvery shimmer a lick

of wind splitting evenly half tree half cloud dark and light and 

yes resting geese I go round and round looking for its soul 

wanting to speak to it in my native tongue

I am uncertain about the whole soul thing but 

consider it a worthy search nonetheless

and think about ginsburg playing 

with ants and thank him from

the bottom of my 

soul

JPPestana

The Borrow Pond

2.9.2022

 The Argument

there are no words for

the exquisite tragedy of words

more so the vicious beauty of words

less so for a hopeless drama acted 

on a stage drenched in a sunless rain 

on a sunless day

there is no coming back from

a place that never was 

some unwritten mindless thing

spontaneous but best left wordless 

for all the guilty

and innocents

alike

JPPestana

The Argument

2.6.2022

 

Eye To Eye

when you shade your eyes

from all of me

you blind me

from me

leave me in this mapless imploring place

a meadow of regret spreading over 

this piece of warmly turned earth

it is the kiss you give a 

gift of deep motionless sleep that 

I awaken in your garden of 

marbled stars shadowy trees 

vines of moonlight draped in 

our tangled past obscuring 

everything spoken

but never 

said

JPPestana

Eye To Eye

2.6.2022

 Pigeons and Squirrels

no more than a row of broken 

clocks alarming and others echo 

electronic impatiently wait

can you see if the clouds have broken through 

the sun it is an easy enough question

they seem fragile tense of late

the clocks go off tell the truest time

of dust and loss

walls begin to close in

or already closed

no one seems to know

the sins written on the kitchen wall

join in stand on their own they are

a proud confession

outside the city squints pigeons

and squirrels fly

stop here don't walk seconds tick

his vices clamor it is the amber he fears

not the sudden red or steady green

he leaves a memory senseless 

crippled hanging on for dear life

he is shameless maybe less 

in front of him a mumbling man stumbles

a too brief recitation on 

the street of flesh

and bone

JPPestana

Pigeons and Squirrels

2.4. 2022

 

Flying Into the Sun

 

it only takes one thing

one verse one song one kiss

for a heart to be reborn

 reveal its all 

his story is glorious

the song man plays it again and again on a dark guitar

in a darker hall to no one in particular

looking back at the accidental start

the way things sometimes begin

breathing deeply together hand in

hand they feel the pleasure

of its first easy beats

flying into the sun

pulsing waves of raven taken from the ages

stolen from some other poem

playfully celebrate

in the only way

they know

JPPestana

Flying Into the Sun

2..2.2022

 

 

JPPestana

Flying Into the Sun

2..2.2022

 

A Wind Continued

I must owe her a dozen 

                   somethings or more

likely more 

                  a rhyme in which her 

                                                    forgiveness 

                                                           cascading

                                                                

becomes 

the perfect flower of 

the perfect day of 

the perfect spring 

when my martyrdom (such as it is) 

goes unnoticed 

when the mercy of her 

is heard perfectly

in a wind

continued

JPPestana

A Wind Continued

2.2.2022