Some Other Poem

this bareness of space

makes you vaguely undefined uncertain

it stretches out ahead to some sorry version

of eternity

you never a worrier worry now

the roadside sign broken down faded welcomes you with

a grin to the town of Creation

here (or so they claim) was the

birthplace of light

butterflies leaving their sleepy mountain trees pueblos

head north for the border

vacqueros ride under their cloaking wings

their graceful horses race thunder ahead of

the thought of starlight

monarchs stunningly drape the moon all moons

in beauty incomparable

along the way birds chirp their encouragement

you see a chickadee sitting sweetly

on a weakly swaying bough

when distracted by burning skies

floating ash of stars

silent cries

of a dying

night

JPPestana

Some Other Poem

2.14.2022

 The Burial Ground

you

of all people see through 

what's left of me a remnant

of too many lives to remember

a pen low on ink irritates you

to no end  you press harder

toss it before it 

drives you to madness

but you keep it in a drawer

with the tarnished medals of saints

crushed overflowing with all

the other used unused things

buried in a drawer now

too full to

close

JPPestana

The Burial Ground

2.14.2022

Taos

 

I am old

I am afraid there is no denying it

although those I meet on the street

over coffee socially most often in Taos exclaim

with reassuringly gleeful smiles that

I am not old at all

I am only older

apparently being old is

no longer what it once was

old has become a thing

of the past replaced

by the much younger hipper older

excitedly I thank those wiser than me

with eyes sparkling behind thick glasses

I snap my arthritic fingers imagine combing

a few strands of hair dancing on air

and hurriedly crazily race away

looking for a new

kind of trouble

that only being older

than old can 

 

find

JPPestana

Taos

2.13.202

The Sin of Things

 

indulge me

 

 I am here to confess 

 

joyfully

 

unrepentantly

I love things

the one two three of

all things -ing

beginn-ing with

sing-ing and

danc-ing

and chant-ing

believe-ing trust-ing hear-ing hop-ing

lov-ing wish-ing feel-ing see-ing touching

laugh-ing sometime cry-ing

promis-ing proclaim-ing

condemn-ing

possess-ing

 -ing upon- ing

upon -ing

upon -ing

these unceas-ing little bells tinkl-ing

l -ing er-ing r- ing within me

and when there is noth-

ing there is still always someth-

ing in this and

every

sin-g

le 

end-

ing

JPPestana

Things

 

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