Month: November 2014


Aurora Borealis

Our planet’s Northern Lights

Circling the magnetic pole

One of Nature’s beautiful sights.

A living diadem of verdigris

Electrons and protons disguised

Hyperactively producing beauty

A vision forever prized.

Geomagnetic storms invisibly rage

(Linking an interplanetary field

With Earth as solar winds buffet)

Redirecting magnetic flux as a shield.

Gems of green and sometimes red

A fall and spring equinox surprise

Such exalted scientific lights

Radiating elegance to the skies.

© 2014 ViataMaja, Poezija


What herb is this

Growing in the wild

Despite the lack of water

And hostile sandy soil

Defying biological laws?

The wind gently caresses

Encouraging it to brush me, tenderly

And the need to return the touch

Is stronger than the life force itself.

Thick leaves signal

One will not be missed

I break it from its branch

Crush the leaf between my trembling fingers

Releasing its fragrance

And I am able to identify the unique name:

Pirano, it is you…

© 2014 ViataMaja, Laminas


(Tuesday, November 25 to Friday, November 28)


This is the season to share memories. If you, or someone you know, like poetry, please consider my book of poetic memories that includes Romance, Family, War & Peace, Dogs/Birds/Herbs, Romani (Gypsy) assimilated culture, Music and the greatest decade ever: the 1960s to the 1970s.

This is for Kindle or your PC. The paperback edition is $6 from Amazon.


Florida, for once, giving us rain

Without the dramatics of thunder

And lightning layering the skies

Yard needs mowing

Dozens of Live Oak saplings

Choking, struggling in competition

For the sun and rain with the greedy mother trees

Dripping water from their epiphytic Spanish Moss

Nourishing their own roots

Steady, steady, what to do?

Back yard canopy shelters my elliptical

I pedal to nowhere

Giving the gift of calories

To the heavy metal mechanical machine

As I watch the

Swamp trees glory in the shower

Ignoring the

Sleepy sun behind the grayscale backdrop

Blues playlist adds to the mood:

“Different Shades of Blue”

“French Blues”

“Les Blues des Routes”

“Recherche d’Acadie”

“Ball and Chain”

“I Put A Spell On You”

Ending with

“St. James Infirmary”

Paraphrased for a female singer:

“Let him go, let him go, God bless him

Wherever he may be”

Me, trees, rain, blues

Today is a good day to cry…

(c) 2014 ViataMaja, Laminas


I thought that

If you were mine

I’d sizzle oceans

Letting you rest

In the hot tub of my love

After meeting you I knew

Tumbling into a different world

A place to remain safe

Encased in warmth and passion

Three days of nakedness

Of our souls, our skin

Riding a comet, forgetting

That the radiation of space

Burns like the sun on

A cloudy beach day

A burn so incinerating

Producing fever and pain

But I loved you when

You were a collection of pixels

Loved you more when we met

Love you still now that you

Melted out of my life…

(c) 2014 ViataMaja, Laminas


Today I am wearing a new

Royal blue skirt

I step into a new pair of black suede boots

And BAM! The soles touching my heels

Can only be described as

Miniature time machines

Dragging me back to

The first day of first grade

Clutching a black & white notebook

Sewn on the binding

A yellow pencil peeping out

From the yet-blank center page

As I twirl around

In my new September skirt of

Burnt sienna and red

While scuffing my brown suede shoes

Five-year-old me

Totally unaware of those eyes

From the future

Smiling sadly yet bravely

At the whirling, twirling girl…

(c) 2014 ViataMaja


Once upon a time

Saturday nights were so special

Important to have a date

If not, then not a time to go to the movies

With friends

So all the dated ones

Wouldn’t see we were dateless

Once upon a time

New Year’s Eves were so special

Important to have a date

And either a private party

Or club or restaurant to attend

With a date, of course

There was one year that I didn’t

Have a date

I stayed home alone

Watching the ball fall

On TV, live, from

New York City

I cried

Wrote fantastic poetry

Now lost from countless moves over the years

(That’s why I can claim it was fantastic poetry

Who will know now that it is gone?)

Once upon a time

I had huge hopes

Important plans

But each succeeding year

I lopped off a few ideas

From the totem pole

Depicting an expected life

I did end up being a warrior

Didn’t always win

But managed to still stand

And look life in the eyes

I suppose, if we can brave it out

Without hurting ourselves too much

Without hurting others

Then that is more important than dates

And hopes and plans

Good to be able to do it all, though

But if not, hey,

Turn on the music and dance…

© 2014 ViataMaja, Laminas



High soprano voice

Soared so high

And one terrible day

It refused to return from the heavens

Self esteem

It came, it went

Could have used it on a more steady basis

But it had an aversion to matters of love


The sheer excitement of life

But like Mellencamp says,

“Life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone”


Without trying, we become

More invisible with age

Shouting, “See me!” makes no difference


Wisdom, of sorts

Still impulsive

That’s probably an Aries trait

Talking before thinking is an ancient brain path


Although adrenalin still romps through the bloodstream

Making me shake when excited

Not so excited anymore so able to navigate


Can laugh at myself

Zen-like understanding of people

And the Earth and the universe and beyond


Strip away the wrinkles

And the gravitational pull

It’s there, somewhere…

© 2014 ViataMaja, Laminas