Month: January 2019

#3 EMPRESS/#4 EMPEROR

We see them sitting separately
On thrones and different cards
She is the third
Fecund mother, healer
Generating
Emanating
Flowers and herbs
Nutrition and health
He is the fourth
Authoritative
Stabilizer
Protector
Together they create
Universal love, but
Like lonely Sand Hill Cranes
Searching for the mate
Unless they come together in a reading
They remain apart
It’s such a big old world
How to decide
Where to abide
And with whom
Background music
Train whistle
A Minor and E Minor chords
Hurtling through the night
Reminding us we might
Be lonesome and alone
Forever
Forever hoping
To meet
Side by side
On a table top
Where seeker and guider
Interpret this rare combination
So close in the cards
But not
How we hope
How we say
Don’t shuffle …

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
Image: #3 Empress/#4 Emperor

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#10 WHEEL OF FORTUNE

The world
Is so wrongly tilted
And like a carnival prize wheel
Bestowing cellophaned
Dolls and bears
We must always beware
Of gifts in the night
Because when once again light
We may be left holding ashes

Tilt and slide
A carnival ride
Game of chance

Watch the carnival Ferris wheel
See how it mimics life
Infantile upward movement
Teetering to teens, then adults
Suddenly we are on top of our ride
Young and strong with no need to hide
From whatever materializes
Seems like we sit there into forever
But no, it will begin to go
And we head on down
Down
Down
Down to the ground

Wheels of time within
Wheels of fortune

Circles symbolize unity
No beginning
No end
Ouroboros
Serpent swallowing its tail
No beginning
No end
Says Einstein:
Time is an illusion
Says I:
Time line is an oxymoron
But we western humans
Demanding structure
Think linear
Lines marching from the
Beginning of time
Why we see
The Wheel as a danger
When it chooses
“No Prize!”
But there is always another spin
And the emptiness doesn’t last
Once again we can win
Know that there are ups and downs
Round and round

Tilt and slide
A carnival ride
Game of chance
In life…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Tarot and daisies and music and elephants

#13 DEATH/TRANSITION

#13 DEATH (TRANSITION)

My mind’s Table of Elements
Contains merely four that matter
In my primitive, unscientific way
Folding them like dry laundry
One for each drawer

We swim in Water
Fly in Air
But Earth smothers
While Fire flays us to the bone
Do I prefer Air and Water
Because, interestingly,
Earth and Fire are the
Final bed for the dead
Unless one dies in mid-ocean
Or is lost in space
Then the body’s chucked out the hatch
To float unmatched
In silent darkness

Space is the cleanest
Space doesn’t eat you like
Sea creatures
Blazes or
Worms of the soil
Death is messy
That is why I
Call it “Transition”
Just a biological stage
To something better

Death comes to all
Jim Morrison said it best
“No one gets out of here alive”
If I have strength
And know my time of rest
Will rent storage space
And decorate with streamers
Also a sign saying
“A beautiful death”
My small elephant table
Holding bottles of juice
And music to encourage
Stiff family members
To let loose
My piddling possessions:
Dollar store container of Grimoires
One with self published books
Tarot cards and amulets
Junky wampum stored with much affection
Tiny boxes and spoon collections
With a prized key earned in mid life education
Despite being a writer
Will only have one sealed note for each

Yes, death is transition
Because surely our heart and brain
Our passion and spirit
Cannot fade
Leaving it all as the
Nihilists claim, a life with
No intrinsic meaning
No, that is
Not my philosophical leaning…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: #13 Death/Transition

#6 THE LOVERS (SONG-IN-PROGRESS)

Creative media
Forge an unproven friendship
Are we who we claim to be
In an unsung song
Or silent poetry?

She opened the door
Saw his perfect face
New galaxy beckoned
Glided into space

Flying to Io
On passionate wings
Moon of Jupiter
In a deep bass sings
While fiery volcanoes
Unendingly erupt
As atmosphere corrupts
A chance for relocation

But exploding music
Knits their hearts
We can, yeah, do it any day
Who can, yeah, guess it anyway
Love, oh no, hasn’t been kind
But she used to pretend, yeah
Like she didn’t mind

Surprisingly, he says, yeah
You are my soul
With you, yeah
Life will never be dull
You’re the hull but me
I’m the masts, the rigging
You, yeah
Keep me whole

And at last she’s a bride
No longer naked
Not necessary to hide
Though the grass so brown
New life blooms greenly fine
Flowering her crown
And he
Smilingly
Thinks: thanks!
She is mine!

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Gargoyles & Baritone Ukulele

FALIKA FALLS (WORDS) #1 MAGICIAN

Last night I
Over-the-counter-drug-dreamed
My return to Falika Falls
It was dried and gone
Fifty-foot unwatered wasteland
Of dead rocks , pulse quietly faded out
In my trembling hands
Once greedy grass glowed but now burned
As I see predator birds, Brown and Gold
Color awakening a long-gone junior high song
Flitting around my mossy memory
While more owls
Than in a Harry Potter novel
Converge on burnt-out trees
Where was the water?
Smoked air clawing at me
Chemically fumed

Want to escape
Nowhere to go
Which way
My autistic compass needle
Uselessly pointing south, then west
Old Harley boots crunching dead earth
Which way is out
And then in the distance
Slowly approaching
Black denim jacket ragged with blood
You in a windy dirt flood
Tarot cards raining down
Broken amulets of chakras
Fall from my pockets:
Wolf for Protection
Moon phases for Emotion
Crow as Power and Mystery
Art for Healthy byways
Music of Secret Communication
Archangels of Arcanic Ascension
And a Universe as above, so below

We sit on a petrified wood log
Discordant music assaulting the ears
Until it sorts itself out
As another memory of school assembly
Assails me, playing Ferde Grofe’s
Grand Canyon Suite
“Suite”
How I’d loved that word
Eagerly checking my dictionary
So many meanings
So I hold onto the words
Words are the key
To free me
From this dark dream
The word “word”
Word, world, wild
Wish, wander, wonder
The free association
Strengthens me
And suddenly
The falls are no longer dry
Water thunders down
Grass grows green
Drumming vibrations of rocks
Rhyming, connecting our pulses
And you and me
Reach out, grasping hands
Your pen appears in mine
And I write…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Chakra amulets

BAXT (LUCK) ZEROING IN

Hey, here is my annual poem about the Southern version of the good luck New Year’s dinner. I’m off to make the cornbread and peas. Wishing you all a happy, healthy and fun New Year! ❤

poeturja

On this New Year’s Day
I will provide
A fragile parchment map
Fail-safe guide
For Nevo Bersh Baxt
Roaming a sky
Lit in fire-crackered smoke
My coordinates:
Northern Hemisphere
Eastern US Coast
Southern Region
Western Peninsula
Dear New Year’s Luck
Zero in on me
And my friends and family
Midnight Major Arcana reading
Without cards
Just generated random numbers
Too old for meaningful predictions
I mean,
Who needs to see
Death-Devil-Destruction
Although the true meanings are
Transformation
Temptation
Insight
And there it is
Number 10
Wheel of Fortune
So as a Southerner
For the last quarter century or more
I lovingly prepare
The lucky dinner
Black-eye peas
Collard greens
“Alternate” protein and
Corn bread stuffed with
Poblano and honey
Let this be a
Healthy year
Strong year
Intelligent year
Sweet year
Bring to me and mine
Zero in on a straight line
X marks the spot on my roof
For…

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