Chi Sherman
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Chi Sherman is an Indianapolis-based writer whose preferred mediums are poetry and creative nonfiction. She has produced four chapbooks of writing, a solo spoken-word CD, and a poetry CD with her father. Her work has appeared in HuffPo, The Body Is Not An Apology, Brave Voices, Tenderness Lit, and quite sporadically on her blog, Chi Rising (http://chirising.blogspot.com).
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we massive
we massive
we so massive
that when you shout were you there
we say we aren’t sure
but we must have been
we must have worn black wings
and feathered hats
and swooped over fields
looking for our next meal
we so grand
reverence is routine
our tongues don't fit behind our teeth
and when we laugh
candy falls from our forests of hair
we so bewitching
that friends who knew us in the shallow end
also know that jump ropes and silence
are the best gifts of all
we so massive we pillow the clouds
and indulge the idiosyncrasies of soil
we survey what we will consume
in our quest for reign and thunder
we strike the ground with armored fists
reveling in ripples that uproot maidenhair
we so diffuse that isolation has a houseguest
our language lives in roots and leaves
our history formed the mountains from hills
we graze on brush and sap
collect lightning bolts in a quiver
and roar farewell to kingdoms in denial
about our requisite departure
we so massive
our voices rattle the morning cage
dawn crests the horizon
and asks where we've been
in and around
through and in between
but never so far away
that we couldn't pull you close
and remind you
with fingerprints and heat
when this adventure began
we so massive
that when you shout were you there
we say we aren’t sure
but we must have been
we must have worn black wings
and feathered hats
and swooped over fields
looking for our next meal
we so grand
reverence is routine
our tongues don't fit behind our teeth
and when we laugh
candy falls from our forests of hair
we so bewitching
that friends who knew us in the shallow end
also know that jump ropes and silence
are the best gifts of all
we so massive we pillow the clouds
and indulge the idiosyncrasies of soil
we survey what we will consume
in our quest for reign and thunder
we strike the ground with armored fists
reveling in ripples that uproot maidenhair
we so diffuse that isolation has a houseguest
our language lives in roots and leaves
our history formed the mountains from hills
we graze on brush and sap
collect lightning bolts in a quiver
and roar farewell to kingdoms in denial
about our requisite departure
we so massive
our voices rattle the morning cage
dawn crests the horizon
and asks where we've been
in and around
through and in between
but never so far away
that we couldn't pull you close
and remind you
with fingerprints and heat
when this adventure began
Commentary
Chi on "we massive":
One of my favorite things about “we massive” is that I wrote the first draft in bed. I woke up one morning and had the words “we massive” in my head. I’m not sure if it was from a dream or just a random inspirational spark, but in about 10 minutes, tapping away on my phone, I had a pretty solid first draft. It actually stayed a first draft for a long time. I’d futz around with it every once in a while, but it wasn’t until I saw KD’s call for submissions that WM assumed its final form. Much of the first draft remains, but I was also able to see where a stanza should come out and where lines could be stronger. In a sense, it’s been a very magical poem... the kind that I didn’t always feel that I was writing. Chalk this one up to the guardians, goddesses, and fairies who directed my hand!
EIC Christine Taylor on "we massive":
It often amazes me how poetry tends to meet us right where we are in our personal journeys, takes our hands, and guides us through the rough patches. To be honest, I'm on the "struggle bus" right now—and without getting into the details of why, I think y'all know where I'm coming from. Lately, I've needed a poem like Chi's to remind me that "our voices rattle the morning cage," especially when I feel like my own voice often goes unheard. There are many days when I feel like a pretty little person, and I need to be reminded that I have a tribe behind me. I've been told that I have a "big" laugh, but I'm often compelled to squash it, and I think I'm done with that. "we massive. . ."
One of my favorite things about “we massive” is that I wrote the first draft in bed. I woke up one morning and had the words “we massive” in my head. I’m not sure if it was from a dream or just a random inspirational spark, but in about 10 minutes, tapping away on my phone, I had a pretty solid first draft. It actually stayed a first draft for a long time. I’d futz around with it every once in a while, but it wasn’t until I saw KD’s call for submissions that WM assumed its final form. Much of the first draft remains, but I was also able to see where a stanza should come out and where lines could be stronger. In a sense, it’s been a very magical poem... the kind that I didn’t always feel that I was writing. Chalk this one up to the guardians, goddesses, and fairies who directed my hand!
EIC Christine Taylor on "we massive":
It often amazes me how poetry tends to meet us right where we are in our personal journeys, takes our hands, and guides us through the rough patches. To be honest, I'm on the "struggle bus" right now—and without getting into the details of why, I think y'all know where I'm coming from. Lately, I've needed a poem like Chi's to remind me that "our voices rattle the morning cage," especially when I feel like my own voice often goes unheard. There are many days when I feel like a pretty little person, and I need to be reminded that I have a tribe behind me. I've been told that I have a "big" laugh, but I'm often compelled to squash it, and I think I'm done with that. "we massive. . ."
