Lay out the spread on the table...

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Lay out the spread on the table,

For the celebrations have just begun.

Blow the trumpets,

Light the candles.

And let us all shine

In the dim light.

Let the present last forever.

And let forever, last and last.

For there’s no talent

Without will power,

As someone said,

Back in time.

Let the present last forever.

Then, let our shine, last and last.

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Dear ol’ Portobello...

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Dear ol’ Portobello,

Perfect

For tongue twisters.

Polish, Dutch, French, Armenian,

Make no more sense

Than Chinese whispers.

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Lady who sits At a Chelsea window...

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Lady who sits

At a Chelsea window

Is she just sad

Or perhaps a widow?

Her gaze lost

Across her breakfast table.

In her Jackie O shades

And polka dot pj’s.

Lady who sits

Facing East,

At a Chelsea window

Whilst the morning sun

Cheers up her sorrow.

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Stone crosses And empty hearts...

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

White washed walls,

Stone crosses

And empty hearts.

Lonely Cypress,

Plastic Flowers

Under the scorching sun.

Scattered ladies

In search of the memories

Of their beloved ones.

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Ring, ring, ring: Little riding bike...

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Ring, ring, ring:

Little riding bike.

Ring, ring, ring:

All the problems past.

Ring, ring, ring:

What will the future bring?

Ring, ring, ring:

Lo que será,

 

será...

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

The never forgotten sands Of the Kuruman...

Kalahari desert, South Africa. 

No filter. 

Nikon FM2 shot on 35mm

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Just like childhood memories

Of candy floss

Spin around me,

Covering my day

With glittering rose petal thread...

The never forgotten sands

Of the Kuruman,

Revisit me.

Reminding me

Of pink filled skies

And golden sunsets

As I open up an old bag

From filming trips gone by

To find

Of Kalahari sands,

Traces.

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Narrative takes you By the hand...

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Narrative takes you

By the hand

Into the unpredictable

World of the unknown.

Poetry flirts with words

Tossing them,

In a relentless dance

To and fro.

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Ducks go quack. In Battersea.

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

Ducks go quack.

In Battersea.

On the river bank.

The Square turns the corner

With a smile.

In Battersea.

Cobblestones make me tremble

Tickling my feet.

In Battersea.

Cats are called

Tia and Mia.

In Battersea.

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

The high tides Of my life’s ocean...

photo & poem © Jesús Montero

GROUND ZERO + 56

The high tides

Of my life’s ocean

Bric a brac hide

On its shore

Memories left on the sand

For all of us to see,

Once the tide is low.

The high tides

Of my life’s ocean

Move my emotions

Up and down,

To and fro.

Shifting my moods,

Now with sunshine,

Now with the silvery touch

Of moon’s glow.

The high tides

Of my life’s ocean

Stirred my past with gloom

Where hopes could barely stay afloat.

Left on the beach,

Like stranded,

Making it easy to be picked.

photo & poem © Jesús Montero