Not Sure

not sure these tears that arrive
from nowhere else mean anything
not sure they even belong to me
they come go easily enough
like friends once then unremembered
then there is the lone tear
crossing the territory of this aloneness
vast indistinct mapless
is this the mirage of the birth of I
I begin to cry as the lost child would
see the slow death of a horizon
not sure
sure

jppestana
Not Sure
6.28.2020

Awakened

On this morning
hummingbirds were in their nectar
before the sun
I cheerfully welcomed them.




jppestana
6.19.2020
Awakened

The Drum

a marching darkness

fell upon the land

the sun retreated

then surrendered

shadows ran from

themselves

only I

JP Pestana

The Drum

June 1, 2020

Sparrows In Roses

the sparrows unworried in roses don’t know

the crow strutting in buttercups clover

don’t know

the woman darker than any night drowns

her sorrows in cheerful tears

her lonely intonements

the poet calls to her

she bowing silently in the holler

of a knowing sun

JP Pestana

5.28.2020

Sparrows In Roses

Then Human

then human
or so wanting
of broken moments remains
erased in a cruel instant
then when the light comes final
too late to see the reaching hand
touch the racing heart
or me then more
or less human retreats invisible
you certain of one thing know
I cannot hold a candle
in this flickering light
a window opens curtains whisper sins extinguished
with barely moon or star or
ghostly birds dreamt
I know what I have become
it is not me chanting loudly
a maddeningly oblivious apparition
a lurking monster
or poor excuse
for one
then un-
deserving
human
again

jppestana
Then Human
4.26.2020

Reason

brush away
what is left of the sun
the make believe
the things you said
the undone shapeless brilliance
and you have me

dance wildly if you wish
in the shining circle
of my mindless lies
quickly name me in the memory
of these meaningless things
of this runaway dream
that surrounds us

I have forgotten now
in the time there was
for everything
now there is no time
no clock unwinding
no clamor to be heard
no willows waving their
final goodbyes
for the time being
now no reason
at all

jppestana
Reason
4.18.2020

Bohemia

the wind is the scream
of all these wings
a grateful rain racing
into open arms bohemia
the river of her is part of this
all of this
she waves with envies
the joy of gulls
traces herself in a slipper of cloud
close to her men with dark eyes
burnt skin farm
turn the earth
the slow moving current wander
of his mostly dulled
senses

JPPestana
Bohemia
3. 31. 2020