Monday, January 7, 2013

5 Photos by Silvia Scheibli

                                                         Day of the Dead #2


                                                        Day of the Dead #3


                                                        Broad-billed Hummer

6 Poems by Silvia Scheibli

En El Dia de los Muertos -
            Nogales, Sonora.

Sat on a chair
At Pancho Villa’s Bar,
            Cappucino kisses.

Guests nodded
In her direction, as
Passers-by quickened
Their steps.

En el Dia de los Muertos
In a low-cut gown
Was content
            At Pancho’s.

In the time of the Jaguar
                           and the Sky Island Alliance.

There was no border fence yet.

Macho B, as he was called,
Never knew his scientific name.
His thick, twitching tail
 blue-shaped darkness
across his muscular shoulders.

He knew the invisible, good-night bird
          roosting in jade brush
by luminous golden eyes
                                like his own.

He watched jagged fruit bats
            slide out of the moon's silver sleeves
    flutter to chrome-sapphire blossoms.

There was no border fence yet.

      So he crossed the busy frontier
                   along the Santa Cruz River
          through a sunflower tunnel.

Macho B
walked right into the homes
of locals via the evening news.

Environment protection members
trapped and euthanized the only jaguar
left in the wild.
                       They apologized
many months later after a thoroughly
meaningless investigation.

Now the border fence is complete.

Breakfast at Eleven –
                        (For Cesar)

Two blonde, white-tailed deer
            in mesquite shadow
            very still
            sun-spotted backs
            long tongues reaching for
            new mesquite beans,
            to kiss fresh raspberries
Oats & honey
            on your chest.

Stands on a Chair

The full moon stands on a chair
Wearing my shoes.

Standing on a chair
With my metallic shoes, the moon
Points at night hawks.

I want your green mask.
I want to lie with you
On the earth with no shadow.

Ay –
Give me your green mask
     And white blood.

I’ll never ask for anything

Japanese Tea Ceremony –
                        Golden Gate Park

                        (Elegy for June Morrall)

The traditional tea ceremony
                        embodies the essence of bamboo.

Vital essence
            for the one drinking not only the jasmine tea,
But also
            the floor, walls and lanterns.

The drinkers pour simplicity   into a tiny cup
                        and are transformed
By a
Swallow’s flight    at their fingertips.

Those who usually reach out       suddenly
Reach in                          
                      with the singular gesture
Of a night heron  on lips.


(We did not cross the border,
The border crossed us.)
                        ---Dolores Huerta

I gaze river-like
Looking for a river
or even some tree ducks
But there is only this endless
Late afternoon freight train,
            rumbling through the intersection.
Brakes squealing.
Rolling to a stop.

On my left Mesquite bushes
            float up the clearing
            and melt
In between cracks of boxcars.

Moving again,
Dim amber lights flicker
& jolt
On the track.

I scan the empty road.

Silvia Scheibli’s poems were translated into Spanish for the anthology, La Adelfa Amarga, edited by Miguel Angel Zapata and published in Lima, Peru. Other anthologies include:  Internal Weather: New Poems, New Poets, edited by Fred Wolven; Mantras, an Anthology of Immanentist poetry edited by Alan Britt; New Generation:  Poetry, edited by Fred Wolven; The Immanentist Anthology: Art of the Superconscious, published by The Smith. Her poems have appeared in magazines such as, Black Moon: Poetry of Imagination, The Midwest Quarterly, The Raw Seed Review and Ann Arbor Review. She is one of many talented poets participating in the We Are You Project International ( Her latest book is Parabola Dreams: Poems by Silvia Scheibli and Alan Britt (

1 comment:

  1. With a few masterly strokes of her erotic brush, Silvia paints for us a lush picture of the Arizona landscape with its jade brush, blue-green foliage, soft pink cactus thorns, splashes of lavender, profusion of yellow. Her word watercolors capture the swirling clouds, the silver of the moon, the golden eyes of the last jaguar of the wild, and make the desert bloom on the page.
    With her surrealist vision, she presents us with sensitive portraits of Mexican culture, a Zen aliveness, a lightning knowing.
    - Lilvia Soto