Coming May 13th from Querencia Press: Marisa Silva-Dunbar “Allison”

https://tinyurl.com/2p88rc97

Bio: Marisa Silva-Dunbar is a Latina poet from the Southwest. Hundreds of her poems have been published in the last decade. Her poetry has been nominated for both Pushcart and Best of the Net awards. She graduated from the University of East Anglia with her MA in poetry, and she is the founder of Neon Mariposa Magazine. She co-edited the anthology Kirstofia and is the author of #becky and When Goddesses Wake. Her first full-length collection, “Allison” will be published later this year by Querencia Press. When she is not writing, Marisa enjoys discussing pop culture and history. To check out more of her work, go to www.marisasilvadunbar.com

From Marisa Silva-Dunbar : Poetry Prompt for writing about people who’ve hurt you

  1. Make a list of all the things that made you crumple in (must be handwritten on a paper napkin).
  2. Pack all their things into a box to leave at their door, or the curb. You want everything of theirs gone. Make note of the belongings that caused the most strife in your relationship.
  3. Drink coffee while you stare out the window.
  4. Notice where you feel voids in your body. 
  5. Look for their “diamond” ::cough:: cubic zirconia earrings like they’re your own.
  6. Ask yourself: Do you feel hollow or is it a sense of unfamiliar peace?
  7.  Turn the soil over in your garden. Plant hollyhocks and lavender. 
  8. Stop searching for the earrings. They will appear or they won’t. And besides they’ve done everything they can to show you they don’t want them back. It was just a power play. 
  9. Make moon water; use it to wash the dishes that they never cleaned, remove muddy handprints from the wall.
  10. Remind yourself you are not a free babysitting service. 
  11. Remind yourself you are the main character of your own life, but they didn’t want you to see it. You were supposed to remain their devoted fan.
  12. Drink honeyed tea, while writing gratitude lists. 
  13. Sing in the shower again. Move with intention while you get ready for the day.
  14. Notice the friends who call and check in. The ones who make you laugh and listen.
  15. Breathe. You are free.

Marisa Silva-Dunbar is a Latina poet from the Southwest. Hundreds of her poems have been published in the last decade. Her poetry has been nominated for both Pushcart and Best of the Net awards. She graduated from the University of East Anglia with her MA in poetry, and she is the founder of Neon Mariposa Magazine. She co-edited the anthology Kirstofia and is the author of #becky and When Goddesses Wake. Her first full-length collection, “Allison” will be published later this year by Querencia Press. When she is not writing, Marisa enjoys discussing pop culture and history. To check out more of her work, go to www.marisasilvadunbar.com

Poetry by Marisa Silva-Dunbar Reverberations: A Cento

photo from pixabay

        Reverberations: A Cento

Lines from Courtney A. Butler’s Wild Horses

The fireflies are missing.
The birds chirp while pieces of my heart fly east.
It feels shameful to admit:
You are not an ornament anymore.

Parts of self spilled about:
cups and kettles dashing to the rocks below,
pre-sunset, grey washed paths are sweet curves.
the decent is gorgeous.

Upon returning home
chocolate piñon coffee on her lips
She and I become closer to one.
We are aspens in the woods.

Bio: Marisa Silva-Dunbar is a Latina poet from the Southwest. Hundreds of her poems have been published in the last decade. Her poetry has been nominated for both Pushcart and Best of the Net awards. She graduated from the University of East Anglia with her MA in poetry, and she is the founder of Neon Mariposa Magazine. She co-edited the anthology Kirstofia and is the author of #becky and When Goddesses Wake. Her first full-length collection, “Allison” will be published later this year by Querencia Press. When she is not writing, Marisa enjoys discussing pop culture and history. To check out more of her work, go to www.marisasilvadunbar.com

3 re-published poems by Marisa Silva-Dunbar : A Poetry Showcase

Poetry Showcase: 4 poems by Marisa Silva-Dunbar

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Marisa Silva-Dunbar

3 re-published poems by Marisa Silva-Dunbar : A Poetry Showcase

brown flowers

photo by Annie Spratt (unsplash)

First published in Dark Marrow Issue 2: Survivor

Coins for Charon

I.
You ignored her for three months,
if you hadn’t, it would’ve brought
war between us—I kept constant
guard and never wanted you to know.
Confessions are pouring out of me.

You say there is no meaning in the attention
you give her now—she isn’t coming back;
you won’t let her, but she’s a rotting seed 
you planted in me. You let her presence 
grow—didn’t cut her out to save me.
If you wanted her gone, you would’ve 
removed her from the root—crushed
her leaves beneath your foot.

        II.
This is how Persephone died—
poisoned on the table after performing
a self surgery to pull the festerous Minthe 
from her belly; using all her strength
to quell the destructive and foolish nymph.

She’ll never know if Hades left coins for Charon
resting on her eyes as she faded into oblivion. 

One last message for Hades

I’ve swallowed my own form of poison—take a scalpel to me; 
dissect and see if any enchantments remain.
I can’t stop myself from spilling some sort of prayer 
over you even in these liminal spaces; you need to find 
the incantations and magick that sleep in your bones
without splitting your own skin. 
 
If  I had the same curse as Kilgrave, a simple suggestion
would cease any of your favorite forms of self-destruction.
or if I was Our Lady of the Trees, whatever seeds I planted 
around you—would sprout and heal your hurt. 

Persephone Reborn

In the anatomical theatre, I was the cadaver on the table
—chalk white and empty of body fluids. No one remembered 
who I was before the leeches and bloodletting—they said all 
the old gods were dead. In absentia—on the edge of consciousness,

I dreamt I was packed with sand and pebbles—growing succulents,
the only plants I could produce through bone and muscle—a body
barely worth returning to. What magic was left in me? Who would want
a Goddess of Spring, only useful in the unchanging desert? 

Death always has a job—even if the title is ever changing; he is honored
out of fear. You should’ve known he despises a life without me, 
that he would find a way to cultivate a garden to grow within me.
He filled my torso with peonies, and gardenias; placed chrysanthemums

in my heart so that it pulsed with color.  He gently planted narcissus 
in my throat and palms; his own way of calling and clinging to me. 
Waking, I tasted him in my blood, could smell his familiar scent
as if I had never left—it was inevitable he’d find a way to bring me home.




Bio: Marisa Silva-Dunbar is a Latina poet from the Southwest. Hundreds of her poems have been published in the last decade. Her poetry has been nominated for both Pushcart and Best of the Net awards. She graduated from the University of East Anglia with her MA in poetry, and she is the founder of Neon Mariposa Magazine. She co-edited the anthology Kirstofia and is the author of #becky and When Goddesses Wake. Her first full-length collection, "Allison" will be published later this year by Querencia Press. When she is not writing, Marisa enjoys discussing pop culture and history. To check out more of her work, go to www.marisasilvadunbar.com

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Marisa Silva-Dunbar


Poetry Showcase: 4 poems by Marisa Silva-Dunbar

(c) Stephen Abbott drawing of Ava Gardner

Dear Ava Gardner,

I worry I will never be a woman like you. 
I have not mastered the breathy pitch nor 
The come hither drawl that slipped between
Your ruby shined lips

I am no femme fatale, 
no temptress in a slinky black dress. 
I wish the red lacquer stayed on my
nails, that I’d never bite them or scrape off
the polish. And I feel like such a child
when I see photos of you, only 20
perfectly put together, already
hourglass, dewy skin and bee-stung lips
deliciousness. 

But you were still more—dancing away the night
in Spain, seducing bullfighters with those
dangerous eyes. The smirk of a woman
who beat a self proclaimed chess master 
the first time you played a game. His ego
was so bruised he never played you again.

Cellophane and Dismay
              for Mel


I.

Early March—I felt like petals unfurled 
in my ventricles and atria. Bouquets 
of brightly colored flowers, burst 
through my chest. I am opening—
blossoming with purgation.
    
I welcomed you with offerings
of Olea europaea cradled near my waist. 
Come let’s shed a feud ruled by an empty man.

          		II.
Your best friend said I haunted your thoughts too 
during that Denver November. I was not alone 
on the qui vive—rivals for someone who didn’t
know how to love. To anyone who would ask—

he was your former paramour, both of you volatile 
elements exploding when you soaked your skin
in vodka and beer on lonely nights. But those moments
were long distance—I was a witness, lying next to him
when his phone would shine with your 5AM messages,
3AM calls—and these mushroomed into the pandemic
meadow of 2020, two years beyond the few months 
you said you were the black mold in the corner of the room. 

That facade is eternally fragile, and decaying.  

        		III.
I foolishly thought this would be more than a frigid peace—
that candor would flow like honey from the hive on late a June
or early July afternoon. That we could both be children
finding sagacity under the full Strawberry moon. 


Astral Influencer

I am the daughter of the messenger god;
the Moirai have sent me to untangle the threads 
in your hand. You like to stall when you must undo
the knots you create; fear a life without turmoil. 

You tell everyone you are chaos in a martini glass,
encourage them to watch you spill on asphalt,
on canvas, on your ex’s sweat covered dirty duvet. 
Pretend your drool is really his glittery cum—
your audience eagerly awaits the peep show. 

None of this is original; it rained starseeds 
into your mind. I tend to my garden nightly—
as they sprout in the soil of your dreams; 
even then some buds shrivel or rot. 

Now I am tasked with delivering your next idea
to your hotel room. I place the Eight of Wands
in your palm as you wait for your newest paramour 
to pour you champagne. Take the journey of 500
miles; design your life—watch the yarn unravel 
flow freely into yonder. This was always going to happen.

A Fresh Start

We drunk poison from the lips of those we love—
looked into the vast horizon at lives
that had only been mirages in the afternoon sun.

Let’s start a side business 
as fortune tellers for the end of the world.
We’ll read palms on the beach,
trapped in an eternal sunset,
the sky rose-gold—forever on fire. 

Lovers will still want to know 
what stars connect—if they are bound 
by the constellations or devoured by
black holes at the edge of the universe.

Watch the heavens melt like molten lava.
Hold my hand as we stand on the brink 
of the Autumn Apocalypse, waiting to be devoured. 


Bio: Marisa Silva-Dunbar's work has been published in Better Than Starbucks Magazine, Chantrelle's Notebook and Pink Plastic House. Marisa is the co-editor of the anthology "Kirstofia." She has work forthcoming in Sledgehammer Lit Mag, and The Daily Drunk Mag. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @thesweetmaris. You can find more of her work at www.marisasilvadunbar.com .

2nd bio: Marisa is a Latina poet from the Southwest.  Receiving an M.A. in Poetry from the University of East Anglia.  Marisa also has work published in IceFloe Press, Mineral Lit Mag, Rising Phoenix Review, and Ghost Heart Lit.




Bio: Marisa Silva-Dunbar is a Latina poet from the Southwest. Hundreds of her poems have been published in the last decade. Her poetry has been nominated for both Pushcart and Best of the Net awards. She graduated from the University of East Anglia with her MA in poetry, and she is the founder of Neon Mariposa Magazine. She co-edited the anthology Kirstofia and is the author of #becky and When Goddesses Wake. Her first full-length collection, "Allison" will be published later this year by Querencia Press. When she is not writing, Marisa enjoys discussing pop culture and history. To check out more of her work, go to www.marisasilvadunbar.com

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Marisa Silva-Dunbar 



3 re-published poems by Marisa Silva-Dunbar : A Poetry Showcase






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