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Stephanie Silvia was born in Brooklyn,
New York, where she taught public
school after years of directing her
own modern dance company over the
river, in The City. She received a
master’s from the University of North
Carolina at Greensboro and, also,
attended school in Boston and San
Francisco. In her early forties, she
married a fisherman 15 years her junior
and moved to the redwood forest of
the Northern California coast where
they have adopted Lonnie, a poetic and
energetic boy-child. Stephanie
periodically attends workshops led by
the American poet, Diane di Prima.
New York, where she taught public
school after years of directing her
own modern dance company over the
river, in The City. She received a
master’s from the University of North
Carolina at Greensboro and, also,
attended school in Boston and San
Francisco. In her early forties, she
married a fisherman 15 years her junior
and moved to the redwood forest of
the Northern California coast where
they have adopted Lonnie, a poetic and
energetic boy-child. Stephanie
periodically attends workshops led by
the American poet, Diane di Prima.
Stephanie Silvia
The Promise
Heart rubs against lungs
Sandpaper chafing breath
Blue skies and saltfilled teardrops sing sweet songs
Of hope and longing
The yearning fog doesn’t clear with dawn
Sirens call from the deep waves
Come Come Come to me
But Beware Beware
Hearts and heads fickle
Lost in the smoky tendrils
Of wanton eyed shades
With promises of land clean and green
All dreaming brings us home
To place never lived but remembered
In the call of the loon, the coo of the dove
Soft down gray and pink tufted
Memory wakes us in the night
While still we sleep
We prayed for a world safe from chains
Our cries now of joy
Ecstasy full and reeling
Dances dirty barefooted like ragamuffins
In borrowed clothes velvet red purple blue
Rejoice Rejoice in the time of together
Awake alone night without stars
Bombs crack the shells of babies in the womb
Vegetables grow inward as the ice recedes
It would be a lie to say we do not still dream of true love
My world
My world falls apart
Then sings like diva aria out into the sunset red glow
Across the swimming seas shimmer shimmer otters
My world is a swimming purgatory of tasks undone and dishes in the sink
Days of thinking about money in all the ways a soul can think about money
My world is keeping memories like blood demons at bay the taste of fear and love’s longing
We will be poor we will lose our home they will take you away from me and Cassandra of the drowning sea will take me
for there will be no land if you were to go
My world sings of wolves not at the door but wolves whose howls somewhere keep me safe and knowing push the
nightmare tentacles of loss and losing away away from the door shut tight against the rain
My world is the wood stove burning and keeping us bright and warm
My world is piles of laundry with no where to go socks worn through the heels
Wrappers in the backseat bars healthy eaten on the run and drive
Calloused heels A glass of red wine tart, sunlight sweet splintered through the window, the crack doesn’t matter
today, the redwood branches hit the glass in the breeze I make a loving dinner for my family time to breathe love in
and out Bread Lettuce Garlic Berries and Cream Stilllness in chaos the eye of the storm The dance sits arms open
embrace My world is a giant embrace a soft tender touch a scream a lullaby and trip to the shore in a Ford wagon
with fake wood panels in 5th grade a wish on a star a dream where I can fly and the bad guys don’t get us The car
stops to a halt There is no crash Just the crash of my heart beating beating thump da thump A waterfall of tears
cascading like the hippie hair of my youth over browned shoulders soft and lovely, the story of peace we tried to
write.
Heart rubs against lungs
Sandpaper chafing breath
Blue skies and saltfilled teardrops sing sweet songs
Of hope and longing
The yearning fog doesn’t clear with dawn
Sirens call from the deep waves
Come Come Come to me
But Beware Beware
Hearts and heads fickle
Lost in the smoky tendrils
Of wanton eyed shades
With promises of land clean and green
All dreaming brings us home
To place never lived but remembered
In the call of the loon, the coo of the dove
Soft down gray and pink tufted
Memory wakes us in the night
While still we sleep
We prayed for a world safe from chains
Our cries now of joy
Ecstasy full and reeling
Dances dirty barefooted like ragamuffins
In borrowed clothes velvet red purple blue
Rejoice Rejoice in the time of together
Awake alone night without stars
Bombs crack the shells of babies in the womb
Vegetables grow inward as the ice recedes
It would be a lie to say we do not still dream of true love
My world
My world falls apart
Then sings like diva aria out into the sunset red glow
Across the swimming seas shimmer shimmer otters
My world is a swimming purgatory of tasks undone and dishes in the sink
Days of thinking about money in all the ways a soul can think about money
My world is keeping memories like blood demons at bay the taste of fear and love’s longing
We will be poor we will lose our home they will take you away from me and Cassandra of the drowning sea will take me
for there will be no land if you were to go
My world sings of wolves not at the door but wolves whose howls somewhere keep me safe and knowing push the
nightmare tentacles of loss and losing away away from the door shut tight against the rain
My world is the wood stove burning and keeping us bright and warm
My world is piles of laundry with no where to go socks worn through the heels
Wrappers in the backseat bars healthy eaten on the run and drive
Calloused heels A glass of red wine tart, sunlight sweet splintered through the window, the crack doesn’t matter
today, the redwood branches hit the glass in the breeze I make a loving dinner for my family time to breathe love in
and out Bread Lettuce Garlic Berries and Cream Stilllness in chaos the eye of the storm The dance sits arms open
embrace My world is a giant embrace a soft tender touch a scream a lullaby and trip to the shore in a Ford wagon
with fake wood panels in 5th grade a wish on a star a dream where I can fly and the bad guys don’t get us The car
stops to a halt There is no crash Just the crash of my heart beating beating thump da thump A waterfall of tears
cascading like the hippie hair of my youth over browned shoulders soft and lovely, the story of peace we tried to
write.
Paper Whites
His cousin wove paper whites
into my hair
on my wedding day
His sister woke long before
the alarms set
in his mother's house
Barefoot we walked across
gravel and sand
to the island's edge
For the ritual bath
(I believe)
meant for virgins
Salt washed last night's
crushed basil
and garlic from my fingers
The familial preparation
of foods to be
eaten at the feast
Bridesmaids dressed in patterns
of chartreuse and
lavender presided over
Winged girls who danced
in circles
around the lace canopy
While uncles played bagpipes and
other cousins sang songs
of love and roses
As aunts and mothers cried during
promises made of
ocean air, broken glass
And ancient words spoken by
my friend's husband
in a foreign tongue
His cousin wove paper whites
into my hair
on my wedding day
today
waking up and writing first thing
this is a purpose
this is not getting out of bed
walking with the dog
(I love the dog)
doing an errand
after having green tea because of giving up coffee
because green tea is supposed to promote weight loss
and planning on cleaning the house
but going back to bed
to lie in an awful stupor
(like the bed sweats with no sweat)
somehow summoning a force field
to make it up and to the kitchen to grind strong
black coffee
while scouring the cupboard for good/bad things to
eat
and then getting on with the day
much better yet with a hint of a lingering daze
none of that today
today
toasting a bagel at 8 am
(8am!)
walking with a mug (a coffee mug) in my hand
to the cabin next door
like I have something important to do
like I am working
like I am whole and awake
and not longing to be hit over the head
to end my yearning misery
Trinidad, CA 9/04
Pantoum with This Is Just to Say by William
Carlos Williams
Lost love and lost life
I have eaten the plums in the icebox
Purple, forbidden
How, on earth, was I to know
I have eaten the plums in the icebox
And which you were probably saving for breakfast
Oh, how, on earth, was I supposed to know
That kisses, like fruit, ripen, then fall
And which you were probably saving for breakfast
Forgive me
Kisses like fruit, ripen, then fall
I cry like a newborn searching for tit
Forgive me
I bleed like the angel falling from grace
I cry like a newborn searching for tit
Tears fall, like ripened kisses, day after day
I bleed like the angel falling from grace
Without understanding any of it
Tears fall, like ripened kisses, day after day
We all want to be loved and warm
Without understanding any of it
Love turned to anger to shame to need
We all want to be warm
They were delicious
Love turned to anger, to shame, to need
So sweet
They were delicious
So cold
So sweet
Purple and forbidden
So cold
How, on earth, was I to know
His cousin wove paper whites
into my hair
on my wedding day
His sister woke long before
the alarms set
in his mother's house
Barefoot we walked across
gravel and sand
to the island's edge
For the ritual bath
(I believe)
meant for virgins
Salt washed last night's
crushed basil
and garlic from my fingers
The familial preparation
of foods to be
eaten at the feast
Bridesmaids dressed in patterns
of chartreuse and
lavender presided over
Winged girls who danced
in circles
around the lace canopy
While uncles played bagpipes and
other cousins sang songs
of love and roses
As aunts and mothers cried during
promises made of
ocean air, broken glass
And ancient words spoken by
my friend's husband
in a foreign tongue
His cousin wove paper whites
into my hair
on my wedding day
today
waking up and writing first thing
this is a purpose
this is not getting out of bed
walking with the dog
(I love the dog)
doing an errand
after having green tea because of giving up coffee
because green tea is supposed to promote weight loss
and planning on cleaning the house
but going back to bed
to lie in an awful stupor
(like the bed sweats with no sweat)
somehow summoning a force field
to make it up and to the kitchen to grind strong
black coffee
while scouring the cupboard for good/bad things to
eat
and then getting on with the day
much better yet with a hint of a lingering daze
none of that today
today
toasting a bagel at 8 am
(8am!)
walking with a mug (a coffee mug) in my hand
to the cabin next door
like I have something important to do
like I am working
like I am whole and awake
and not longing to be hit over the head
to end my yearning misery
Trinidad, CA 9/04
Pantoum with This Is Just to Say by William
Carlos Williams
Lost love and lost life
I have eaten the plums in the icebox
Purple, forbidden
How, on earth, was I to know
I have eaten the plums in the icebox
And which you were probably saving for breakfast
Oh, how, on earth, was I supposed to know
That kisses, like fruit, ripen, then fall
And which you were probably saving for breakfast
Forgive me
Kisses like fruit, ripen, then fall
I cry like a newborn searching for tit
Forgive me
I bleed like the angel falling from grace
I cry like a newborn searching for tit
Tears fall, like ripened kisses, day after day
I bleed like the angel falling from grace
Without understanding any of it
Tears fall, like ripened kisses, day after day
We all want to be loved and warm
Without understanding any of it
Love turned to anger to shame to need
We all want to be warm
They were delicious
Love turned to anger, to shame, to need
So sweet
They were delicious
So cold
So sweet
Purple and forbidden
So cold
How, on earth, was I to know
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