Oracles in pink

Lazily dancing

To cold front

Wind force

Dogs dozing

In dirt

My mind drifts

As I watch the

Bobbing of

Pink, plastic heads

And I think

Will I be able to sustain

Good health this

Second year of the plague?

And one flamingo’s head

Nods up and down

Then I think

That’s a”yes”

Hmmm, let me test this

And I think

Will my latest song

Win a Grammy?

And one flamingo’s head

Adamantly moves

Left, Right, Left, Right

That’s a “no”

I say

Just like the days

I used a pendant

To see what gender

My unborn babes

Would be

So these

Presents from

A dear friend

These oracles in disguise

Transcend the

Whimsical function

Of lawn decoration

At least for believers like me…

© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Pink Oracles



Ruled by rainwater

Fashioned to protect

Centuries of roof guttering

Until poetic souls saw us

As we really are

Fierce, fighting,

Fine monsters

Holding off the

Fiends and demons

Devilishly clever

But not against us

Made of stone

Long throats to swallow rain

And the better to seize all

Who threaten the structures

We squat upon

All who attack

Learn to fear us

Including our cousin the dragon

For small is diligent, invisible

Small is a game changer

In this microcosmic world of danger…

© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Small Gargoyles, Big Job


I wake to agitated daylight

Sympathetic darkness

Disappears like a fallen blanket

Groping for the comfort of softness

Finding nothing but dead air

Now I see

All is bright, harsh, visible

How I long for the night


Crossroads leading this- and that-a-way

Lead me to the horizon of sight

So I might see the truth again


Something happened

On the verge of tears

Every afternoon

But wouldn’t bend my head

Instead, searched for the garden gate

To make an escape

From the futile feeling of



Crossroads leading this- and that- a-way

Lead me to the horizon of sight

So I might see the truth again


Night projection into

Rock salt country

Spread like white sand

Ocean wind

Evaporating, creating

Sea salinity for

Weeping wounds

Wronging what is right


Crossroads leading this- and that- a-way

Lead me to the horizon of sight

So I might see the truth again


Let me live in the three o’clock hour

Amid the night blooming flower

Of my newest reality

All seems stagnant

At that time

But dreamy mise en scenes

Unfreeze us to decide

On fight or flight…


© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Salt Flat & Guitar


(scroll down for YouTube video)

Autistic stimming*

Comforting in my old age

Smoke on the Water

Deep Purple’s magical riff

Da, da, da, da, da, da, da….

*If you’ve ever tapped your fingers against a counter while you were waiting, congratulations, you’ve stimmed. Autistic people tend to stim more often and more intensely. Stimming helps us process the sensory input we’re gathering, stay calm and grounded in an overwhelming universe, and express joy, distress, or whatever we might be feeling.— Julia Bascom

© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)




Lying alone in lacy black

Looping thoughts of you

While wild wind and rain

Shadow the starlit sky

Wondering about the lucky lady

Luxuriating in your languid love…

© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Moon Appreciation Society


Happy Birthday Shakespeare, April 23rd

See my tree after 6 years!

❤ ❤ ❤

Like Shakespeare’s

Pyramus and Thisbe

I wait for you under

The Mulberry tree

Fingers stained with

Sweet red juice

Not blood like his

Star-crossed lovers

But when you do not appear

I understand

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

The play within a play

I understand…

❤ ❤ ❤

©2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGES: CS in 2015 with mulberry plant/mulberry 6 years later as tree


The International Romani Day is a day to celebrate Romani culture and raise awareness of the issues facing Romani (Gypsy) people. A much-romanticized people, but battling daily struggles with education, employment, and housing. Please see the positive biographies of women on the RomaniHerStory blog:

Welcome (

Here is a poem I wrote in 2016 but the struggles continue. Thanks for reading!


From medieval times

Romani women

Peering at palms

Some silken soft

Fewer worn and callused

Mapping wet tea leaves

Extracting colorful dyes from

Precious saffron

Strong spices

Local flora, used to

Embellish wood chips

Painted arcane symbols

Touched by the questor’s hands

Anxiously listening to

Forthcoming flutterings

Struggling to earn a few coins

That will stay sewn

Into the hem of the skirt

Lined with tiny mirrors

Reflecting jakhalo

Whether the Evil Eye

Deliberate or accidental

Part of the colorful clothes

An Eastern European version

Of the sari once worn

Before driven from the homeland

Into a freezing diaspora

Scattering all over the world

Some unluckily becoming slaves

Feeding the maw of

Greedy jaws

Until desrrobireja


In the 19th century

Freedom once again

To travel the muddy roads

Never escape, though,

From need and someone else’s greed

Saving those few coins of comfort

In a romanticized job

With longer hours

Than nine to five

I, no better than my ancestors

The working poor

Trying to stay alive…

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE:  A Chance Meeting with a Fortune-Teller, Adrien Moreau 1834-1906


The internal geometry of crystal

Determining shape and size

Presents atomic diversity

Beautiful as a mixed bouquet of flora

Presented to human fauna

The mineral world of

Atoms or molecules

Arranged in a clear

Repetitive pattern

Subjectively chosen

By those who discern symmetry

Of the crystal face

If only beauty was judged similarly

Among us…

© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Crystal Geometry