Get all 4 Erica Bramham releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
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1. |
Pelicans // Enamel
05:22
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PELICANS
We lie like molluscs
filtering the days
through cups of tea made by me
and coffee made by you
two pelicans
tangled in a fishing line
or the skeletons of tiny crabs
abandoned by the tide.
--
ENAMEL
Roll me in sand
bake me under the sun
my skin enamelled glass
bitten by the wind
bare beneath the heavy wool.
Rounding the dune
the ocean opens up
the soapy surf pulls at the lines of my limbs
my skin enamelled glass
strong against the waves
bare beneath the heavy wool.
Pull on a thread
let the ocean swallow the stitches
one by one
my skin enamelled glass.
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2. |
Ghost Hike
04:17
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My boots make no sound
weightless
but I move the air around my body
stirring up leaves and dust
a gentle whirlwind clears the eucalyptus canopy
and here above the greeny-grey:
the movement of the stars
across the charcoal sky
mapped in my retinas
like overnight calligraphy
or a story book
that opens just for me
and I am ten years old again
just you and I
my pack strapped on top of yours.
Dripping limbs
shed their skins
and the ferns
that from above looked like green trampolines
are taller than you
now I am on your shoulders too
like when I was small
riding round and round the house.
My boots make no sound
weightless.
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3. |
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Alas, my love you do me wrong
to cast me off discourteously
and I have loved you so long
delighting in your company.
Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves was my heart of gold
and who but my lady Greensleeves.
I have been ready at your hand
to grant whatever you would crave
and I have waged both life and land
your love and good will for to have.
I bought thee petticoats of the best
the cloth so fine as might be
I gave the jewels for thy chest
which cost my purse well favouredly.
Thy girdle of gold so red
with pears bedecked sumptuously
the like no other lasses had
and yet thou wouldst not love me.
Thy crimson stockings all of silk
with gold all wrought above the knee
thy pumps as white as was the milk
and yet thou wouldst not love me.
Thy gown was of the grossie green
with sleeves of sateen hanging by
which made thee be our harvest queen
and yet thou wouldst not love me.
My men were clothed all in green
and they did ever wait on thee
all this was gallant to be seen
and yet thou wouldst not love me.
They set thee up, they took thee down
they served thee with humility
thy foot might not once touch the ground
and yet thou wouldst not love me.
You could desire no earthly thing
but still you had it readily
your music still to play and sing
and yet you would not love me.
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4. |
Soapy Question
03:29
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Bubbles on the surface ping
and burst
I enquire of them like flower petals
chasing them around the sink with pink rubber fingers
knives and forks they watch them burst and ping
and whisper
should you, or shouldn't you?
Should I, or shouldn't I
put all my guitars to sleep
no lullaby
or should I
wrap the cobwebs round my finger like fairy floss
shake the spiders from the belly of my bass
should I, shouldn't I?
A strike a spark, the smell of gas
and I burn softly
'til you take me in your arms
dance me round the kitchen
oil on the stove I burst and ping.
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5. |
Zmrzlina
02:39
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6. |
Birds
05:16
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Birds.
This morning the starlings arrived
a search and rescue team
they fan out from fence to fence.
when I last wrote they were still in their nests
your reply surprised me
I can't stop thinking about it
cant stop thinking about
birds.
Combing the freshly shorn lawn for treats
count them iridescent in the sun
one two three four five six
seven eight nine ten
eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen
women who have asked me
when,
and why not?
and told me it's the best thing I would ever do.
Birds.
Lately I've been watching the blackbirds
hoppity-hop and skip
over dandelion puffs
and I'm trying to eat breakfast to bookend my day.
most of the time I feel like there's no space in this body
for anybody else
it's strange to hear that there is space inside of yours
how do you know that there is space inside of yours?
because all the space in mine feels like it's filled up
with nothing but
birds.
Yesterday I saw a crow
steal an egg from someone else's nest
he cracked it open on the pavement while I was washing dishes.
It's true what you said
that I have songs to take care of instead
songs to leave behind
and maybe, maybe that's enough for me
why can't that be enough for everybody else?
Birds.
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7. |
Porridge Morning
04:11
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The sun creeps under the curtains
a bright line across the pillow
that scans over skin
and brightens
the red-black glow behind my eyelids
much too early for the power tools
and lawn mower growls
the birds are free to sing
across the trees
porridge morning.
Slowly, slowly
we stir
from our warm cave of arms
our breath makes icy shapes
across the kitchen
a tango in and out of cupboards
a waltz to the fridge
the birds are free to sing
across the trees
porridge morning.
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Erica Bramham Melbourne, Australia
Genre-slippery songs, soundscapes and improvisations.
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