Silvi

Inside the Atlas Cafe
The Mission
Monday afternoon

***

I

“as with humans, poems have fatal flaws.”

three minutes or less. no editing or revision. for better or for worse.

II

“be a teller of great tales, even the darkest.”

the stories that cast shadows on my life: my father’s death, my mother’s cancer. these are the
stories i will forever be writing. note: you cannot have shadow unless you have light.

III

“think long thoughts in short sentences.”

secrets are safe in whale songs. sisters in pirate stores need mopping. fog sits haunting.
the best part is best. trust strangers to mail your mail. alamo square will teach you wind. trouble  sings like hummingbird wings. gratitude fuels greatness. sometimes birds poop on benches.
make time for yes. no. oh. yes.

IV

“the sunshine of poetry casts shadows, paint them too.”

secrets you never told anyone: putting his toothbrush in the toilet. giving the homeless man a
dollar most days. telling another you can’t spare any change. how it felt to be caught. how
it felt to be saved. loving the girl with the apron. trying to jump off the bridge. hugging him.
getting married. we will never see each other again.

V

“if you have to teach poetry, strike your blackboard with the chalk of light.”

i am teaching them imitation. we read nikki giovanni and they utter, “ooo’s.” they are from el  salvador, the philippines, jamaica, the united states of america, have been to turkey, but mostly, have lived here. we count up the years: 503 collectively.

VI

“allow yourself dazzling flight–flights of imagination.”

i will not wait to become a bird. already i find feathers between the sheets of my bed, dark,
iridescent. contrast the sharp yellow eye of a starling, a mallard’s wing, a peacock’s lady-getters. this morning ravens collected shiny things in my bedroom and offered them at my feet,
laughing, as if they too know what each night i am becoming.

VII

“secretly liberate any being you see in a cage.”

see especially prisons, nursing homes, hospitals, high school proms, zoos, and those without:
faces, tongues, families, friends, happiness, truth, freedom from shame.

VIII

“write short poems in the voice of birds.”

the little black bird
sings like water dropping,
now pick up your jaw.

IX

“if you call yourself a poet, sing it, don’t state it.”

my voice meets a stranger’s and is recorded on the tap tap  taptataptap of red royal typewriter  keys. tell me what you sing. i will listen.

X

“wake up, the world’s on fire!”

what more is there to say than this?

(All quotes from Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s Poetry as Insurgent Art.)

***

You can see a slideshow of Silvi’s photo shoot here.

You can read an interview with Silvi discussing her poetry here.

Silvi’s website, The Poetry Store, can be found here.