shira erlichman

Feeding You Grapes on the Mountain's Soft Side
 

I want to write you a good poem: the water is cold and you step in.
The water is loud against your shins.

I want to write you a comfort poem: oh the ship is a dip! The banana
is a smile, dial! the little girl being carriaged sings, passing you.

I want to write you an awe poem: breath is a leaf floating in a mostly cream
coffee and you have such soft patience to pluck it out in a forest always falling.

I want to write you a silent poem: if every moment is the same moment, what
are you missing? If you want an apple, bite my mouth across such time.

I want to write you a bowl poem: noodles.

I want to write you a kite poem: blue.

I want to write you an always poem: the water is cold and you step in.
The water is loud against your shins.

I want to write you a good morning poem: the crickets believe
you too tell the temperature just by how you let sing the spaces.

I want to write you a together poem: the water is cold and?
The water is loud against?

I want to write you a love poem: you are cold and you step in
to yourself, loud against God's shins. God is dancing.
So cold! Ice cold! somebody says. But who?

I want to write you a whole poem: a bridge abandoned while it rains.

I want to write you a fart poem: somebody, but who?

I want to write you a cosmic poem: the ant on my kitchen table.

I want to write you a wake up poem: all you have been running toward
has been running toward you, all along.

I want to write you a disappointing poem: this is all.

I want to write you an exciting poem: this is all.

I want to write you a real poem: listening to the birds, I give up,
close the book on want, know this, I will come to you
when I am ready.

my dream: tiny axes V

what I forget

my blood remembers

which is why

I can’t go anywhere

without drag-

ging

my body

a            long

When on a poetry tour with the Spilljoy Ensemble in 2008 we were staying at a kind host's house in New Mexico. He gifted us a prayer-box (ghau) that he'd been given by a Tibetan Buddhist monk long ago. My three tourmates & I carried it on our travels, spreading its (literal) hidden seeds throughout the US as a gesture of goodwill. When we parted ways, the small metal circular souvenir ended up in my suitcase. I've had it ever since. It has brought me great comfort & a palpable connection to all who daily work for peace. 

Born in Israel & now living in Brooklyn, Shira Erlichman is a Pushcart Prize nominated poet, nationally touring musician & visual artist. Her work can be found in BUST Magazine, NPR, Buzzfeed, MUZZLE, The Massachusetts Review, Union Station, The Bakery, & The Reader, among others. She has shared stages with TuNe-YaRdS, Coco Rosie, & Mirah. Thanks to the inspiration of John Cage & Yoko Ono she is inclined toward experimentation, minimalism, & repetition. As a result of her experiences as a child in the Gulf War she has a deep passion for peace, justice, mental health literacy, spaciousness, & questions. She lives in an indoor treehouse where she teaches online poetry workshops & composes music. You can find her at www.shirae.com.