BACK IN A FEW DAYS? WEEKS?

I will be taking a few days (weeks?) away from social media, although friends and family think I won’t last 3 minutes.  I have a poetry project that I just can’t seem to complete.  I will try to catch up with your always-wonderful blogs and posts but in case I don’t, feel free to draw my attention to them anytime.  My email is posted on my WordPress “About” page.  If you follow me on FB or are a friend, you can find my gmail address and new phone number on that “About” page.  I love text messages more than phone conversations but will do both.

 

I leave you now with two reblogs of my poems for World Water Day (March 22nd).  Have a wonderful week!

 

❤ Clarissa/Viata/Poeturja

REPOST FOR WORLD WATER DAY 3-22-17

 

WATER, WATER EVERYWHERE, NOR ANY DROP TO DRINK*

 

Salt scent sending messages

From the Atlantic Ocean

A body of water that might be

The end of the world

Because who knows what’s really through

The vanishing point?

 

Fishy fragrance floating

From the green seaweed

Although the Gulf of Mexico

Has its share of redness

Also known as the Red Tide

Destroyer of manatees and fish.

 

Storm runoff pollutes

Sulphur Springs’ once-healing water

Filling dangerous sink holes

Sucking cars and people

Into shifting sands meant

To be a beach, not a city.

 

Hydroelectric power produced

By a Florida-Georgia dam

Where Lake Seminole and others

Contribute their fresh water

Lovely parks, lots of fish

Share the energizing of air conditioners.

 

Shallow-water well weeps

In my backyard, famous Florida aquifers

Water-filled layers of earth

Over 31,000 areas of known

Groundwater contamination

Better not get mine tested, ignorance is bliss…

 

© 2015 ViataMaja, WATER

 

*Title based on The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Samuel Taylor Coleridge

 

Romanian Gypsies

ROMANI PRAYER (WORLD WATER DAY MARCH 22ND)

 

Dig, dig, send down the pipes

Share with us the

Holiness of water

A Madonna in blue

Sheltering inside Mother Earth

There for all to share

Yet, although we believe,

This saint eludes us

Poor Gypsies

Living on trash heaps

That are surely

The vomit of a sick mother

Who no longer has the strength

To bless us with her fresh springs

We poor, living as if in war

Send down the pipes

Pray for the rights

That belong to all humans

Except us…

(c) 2015 ViataMaja, WATER

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2285796/Romanian-gypsies-living-condemned-ghetto-mayor-built-wall-around.html

 

 

 

SIBYL OF THE RHINE

 

*scroll down for a YouTube video*

 

Nine hundred years before my birth

Hildegard von Bingen arrived on this Earth

Sent to a convent because of her religious visions

Eleventh Century upheavals:

Gypsies banished from India

Creating a European diaspora

Sharing their knowledge of divination,

Herbs, cures

By oral transmission

William the Conqueror

Banishing Anglo-Saxons

Creating new law codes and the early census

Known as the Domesday Book

While indigenous tribes unknowingly

Lived out their last moments of freedom

In the Americas

Yet keeping alive their own oral traditions

Of spirituality and cosmography

Momentous times for a Renaissance Woman

To appear in Germany

Rising to the position of Abbess

Writing a book about her visions

Composing music on her psaltery

Rivaling Gregorian chants

Writing the book Physica

A classic on health and healing

Writing the book Causae et Curae

A classic on herbs and cures

Leader, reader, writer,

Composer, musician, healer

History moves in spurts

As does knowledge

The dark ages may seem all-consuming

But they are not

Arcane knowledge

Always rises to the top

Like a granular convection

And once again

Buried dreams will be reality

Hold tight

Remember that night

Always fades in the dawn…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

 

https://youtu.be/LJEfyZSvg5c YouTube video Spiritus Sanctus, Hildegard von Bingen

 

IMAGE: Statue of Hildegard in Bingen’s Museum am Strom

 

poetry, sybil, healer, oracle, nun, abbess, herbs, cures, visions, politics, history, renaissance, repression, underground, dark ages, second inquisition, oral histories

CLOTHES DOTH NOT THE GIRL MAKE (MEMOIR)

A SPRING EQUINOX POEM

 (scroll down for a YouTube video)

 

Bonnet, bag and blossoms

Hope to have them for Easter

But Spring Equinox beckoned

Dad woke us in amaranthine darkness

Loaded us into his brother’s borrowed car

Mom boiled eggs and sliced home-baked bread

Tantalizing thermos coffee jolted me awake

Off we took

Navigating strange streets in Pennsylvania

Before the building of obsolete expressways

Automobile slouches through Bethlehem*

Manual transmission grinding

But brakes holding

Me, eyes aglow

Yay!  Forget about Easter clothes

We’ll be baptized in the mist of

Niagara Falls

Between Canada and New York

How good to be me

Front teeth finally filled in the gaps

Able to sing without lisping

Along with Mom and Dad

How happy and young they are

As we sing “Ain’t Got A Barrel of Money”

And I no longer care

About my holey underwear

Although it will be another year

Without

Bonnet, bag and blossoms…

 

*W.B. Yeats paraphrase

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

 

YouTube video (ukulele, of course!)  https://youtu.be/f4k4xdTVHGE

 

Image: Double Rainbows, Horseshoe Falls @ Niagara Falls (streetsmash)


RIDING THAT TRAIN, HIGH ON CAFFEINE

Last year’s memoir about one St. Patrick’s Day for me:

poeturja

(An Auto-Train Memoir)

SCROLL DOWN FOR A CCR SONG

St. Patrick’s Day to most

But it will always be the day

I crossed the threshold

And began a new life

Kissing bye to my sons and dogs

At six in the morning

Driving my ‘87 Horizon

Every inch packed with possessions

Including a portable tv on the front seat

Wrapped in my ubiquitous sleeping bags

Winter and summer prize

For the homeless

Speeding down Interstate 95

Past the Washington DC loop

To Lorton, Virginia

First and only stop for the auto-train

CCR singing out the car speakers

“I went down Virginia, seeking shelter from the storm”

From noon to nine next morning

Rode the train in a sit-up seat

Met other women leaving their broken lives

Searching for peace

In what I began to think of

As the start-over state

Florida

Friend for the broken and lonely

But still optimistic

View original post 243 more words

“SPIRITS ARE USING ME…”

REPOST UPON SEEING THE SOUTHERN CROSS AT MIDNIGHT 3-15-17


(scroll down for YouTube video)

 

Ancient museum piece

Finding its way

From saline, sunken galleon

To pristine, icy backdrop

Of the sky’s exhibit

Southern Cross

Crux!

Visible in the Northern Hemisphere

And all I can hear

Is Stephen Stills’ voice

Hitting those high notes

Thinking about how many times

I, too, have fallen

No thought of crucifixion

Redemption

Religion

Although a brief vision

Of the tarot’s Hanged Man

Sacrifice

Flashes through my exploding mind

Crux!

On April 8 at one in the morning

Florida, Hawaii and Texas

Are given the gift

From the Southern Hemisphere

Of their circumpolar Crux

Always above the horizon

The Earth poised just right

Stars gracing my life in the night

 

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja) Miniature Worlds Sublime

 YouTube video Southern Cross, Crosby, Stills & Nash https://youtu.be/iuLBhxZUkmU

IMAGE: Crux, Pinterest (not one internet image is as majestic as the real thing)

UKULELE LYRICS #353 (POOLS) with experimental chords

(THE CHORDS SO FAR…DESPERATELY NEED TO FIND A MUSIC TEACHER!)

C/Forcing me to look into your F/eyes

F/Knew something not quite C/right

C/Swimming in your ominous F/pools

F/Feeling the pulse of a C/song

A/You, you said you C/love me

A/In love, you C/said

F/Whispered in a star-tossed C/bed

F/Me, refusing to give away C/power

Dm/Yet so worn down from your demand:

  

*Fm7/(“Do you, do you love me C/true  ???”)

 

Dm/The truth always shines through  C/I do

C/What a night, me and Dm/you

F/Swimming in dark pools of

C/Unbearable delight

F/Only to drown in reluctant C/dawn

A/You took your pools

A/I felt a C/fool

C/Gone, gone your hypnotic F/eyes

C/Leaving me floundering

C/In your F/lies

 

*Fm7/No one to hear my wounded C/cries

 

A/Now in pools, dead as F/jet mourning C/jewels

C/Barricading the last image

F/Shape-shifting into  C/a ghost

F/Pools deep as the A/sloping sands

A/Of a continental C/shelf

C/Pools hiding hazards F/unknown

F/To a naïve but desperate C/soul

C/Who took the chance of diving F/into

F/ frigid waters of possibili  C/ty

A/Despite swirling in blood-red

C/Whirlpools

 

*Fm7/I want to die from the lie

Fm7/Knowing, now, that I’d been

Fm7/so wrong about Dm/you…

 

*supposedly alternate chord for Fmaj7 ukulele 5500 (G-5, C-5, E-0, A-0)

(c) 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja) (poem and ukulele chords)

 

PI DAY HAIKU STACK (3-14-15)

Oops, almost forgot what today is 🙂 Wrote this last year when the date actually equaled Pi…

poeturja

pi agrega.juntadeandalucia.es

It’s Irrational

Circumference divided

By diameter

Whether large or small

Circle growing or shrinking

Numbers stay the same

Flunked many a test

Not knowing the laws of Pi

Ugh, Geometry!

Yet, it’s pretty cool

A three point fourteen fifteen

Constant in our lives

Not much stays the same

Except dependable Math

Rational, to me…

© 2015 ViataMaja

View original post

TOGETHER AGAIN

(scroll down for a musical YouTube video)

Time slyly approaches us

Then runs screaming into the night

Because

We are stardust*

We are golden*

Never before or since

Has there been

Such a magical generation

And although some were financially seduced

Mistaking the original meaning

Of the word “golden”

Many will never forget

The definition of love-and-peace

Despite bouts of anger

Against each other

Squabbling siblings who easily forgive

Because

When it comes to standing together

We will

Just like once upon a time

We did

 

*Joni Mitchell, Woodstock

 

YouTube:  https://youtu.be/q3SjqGfe-yM

 

© Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: CS & dog Tarot camping in Pennsylvania

 

 

 

TICK-TOCK, THROW AWAY THE CLOCK

(my annual daylight savings time poem)

 

Waking with Ben Franklin’s

“A penny saved is a penny earned”

Rattling around the brain

For an exciting hero of mine

He could be thriftily boring

And then

In 1784

He wrote an essay

For the French

“An Economical Project for Diminishing the Cost of Light”

Essentially, how to save on candles

By changing the clocks

Love Ben Franklin

I’m a Philadelphian

What an inventor

Scientist

Statesman

Writer

But come on

Time is so personal…

 

Woke up

Forgetting to spring forward my clocks

But Bill Gates did it on my computer

T-Mobile took care of my phone

Never wear my Janis Joplin watch anymore

But the microwave refused to change

And the light outside is wrong

Long, long hot days in Florida are coming

We need less daylight here

 

The scary thing is

I am so sure

That something magical happened

At the real two in the morning

The hour that no longer is

Surely contained

The secret of life

Or magical herbal cure

Or a song of such beauty

That so-called angels

(Ukulele-wielding ones)

Could never eclipse

Think of all the children born

Whose Rising Sign

Based on hour of birth

Will be wrong

 

I want that hour back

I’m sick of statesmen

Screwing with my life

Including all important time

As always, I follow my dogs

They remain true

To their biological clock

Dining by celestial clues

Einstein said it best:

“Time is an illusion”

So don’t ring my phone

When your time says 7 a.m.

I’m forever on Eastern Standard Time

Drifting in an early-morning dream…

 

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja), Miniature Worlds Sublime

 

SPRING FEVER

 

Cure for Spring fever:

Plant Peppermint for tea

Rub on the dogs’ fleas

Releasing the aroma

Digging dirt glove-free

Earth-stained fingers

Enhancing ukulele-string calluses

That make the music

That sing to the grasses

Youthful madness approaching soon

Sun in Aries

Mars in the Moon

Strengthening me as I whisper farewell

While Orion shifts west

And Crux appears to bless

Earth

Water

Air

Fire

Elements that never fail to

Inspire…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: My new peppermint plants