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