Month: January 2021

HEARTBREAK BORDER (another personal autism poem)

Woke from the dream

To make a dream come true

Left the world of 


To join the much-admired

Neurotypical universe

Like fairies crossing the border

To live among the mortals

To use a little magic

Making themselves taller

But somehow

Despite being undercover

In the ruling world of typicals

They always knew

They always saw

The invisible mark

Because my spark

Shone through

In the tilt of the head

The quiet time dread

And despite wanting to transition

That not-invisible line

Into a happier world

My heart broke

Time after time

No matter the denial

I would always be

That branded child, young girl, woman

Different than you

Autism always showed through

And they let me know it

In many ways

That I don’t belong…

(c) 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Transition


What if your breath

Only has a

Thousand songs left

And you wasted them on me

You would lose your voice

And not sharing it with

The great out-there

You would lose your heart

So keep them and

If you hum

I will be happy…

© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Fall Equinox #1


This old map

Ripping along the creases

After decades of



Following a trail

Barefoot and naked

Growing into the

Rhythm of navigation

Weaving through

Forest dark

Desert radiant

Cities of snowed-on cement

And swamps

Splendorously dangerous

Arriving finally

At the penultimate moment

At the edge

The lines smeared

With coffee stains

And tears

Teetering on the brink

Of the unknown

Nowhere to go

Catch a breath

By squatting on a compass rose

But do not fear

There be no monsters here

Just a point on the horizon’s line

Demanding exploration…

© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Just An Old Map


(Be sure to scroll down and watch a humorous video)


We all know

It’s a murder of Crows

But how about other collective words

For birds?

Chowing down on my feeder

Sunflowers from the seeder

Rare are the Conspiracies of Ravens

But my yard is their haven

Most numerous are Conclaves of Cardinals

Feathers brown and red, color never dulls

Wisdom of Owls is worrisome

Searching for the weak to succumb

My 5 pound dog looks like prey

If I’m not with him, it’ll be his doomsday

Once a beloved dog from a possum died

Now I whisk the small ones inside

A Siege of Sand Hill Cranes protective of their child

They’ll attack and go from peaceful to wild

A Descent of Woodpeckers beautiful

Red head feathers make their species indisputable

But afraid I don’t really understand

How they mistake metal poles for trees rooted in land

When the beat of metal rings out like a shriek

Ouch, I think, does it hurt the beak

Scold of Blue Jays noisy and proud

Related to Corvids and almost as loud

A Wake of Buzzards describes Florida Black Vultures

The next door swamp helps me study their cultures

And my favorite description, a “Chime” of Wrens

Musical and brave, especially the hens

Managing to rule the feeder certain hours of the day

Then dive-bombing enemies while their chicks play

So many birds, so many words, love them both…


According to ADDucation, the first list of collective bird nouns was published in The Book of St. Albans, circa 1500, and was not definitive. It was based on folklore, humor and the whim of the publisher, continuing today


© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Feeder Frenzy


YouTube Video The Trashmen, The Bird is the Word COLLECTIVE BIRDS


Nightmare before Valentine’s Day

Echoes a chickaboom tune

The monsters emerge

Taunting me about the day of love

No hearts or flowers for you

They say

Werewolf’s teeth gleam in the moon

I’ll have you soon, he asserts

But no mention of hearts

Unless he dines on mine

Would be fine

For him

Vampire spreads its hidden wings

Pale face and bloody teeth

Nothing sweet in my future

Zombie can’t talk

Even after dining on brains

They don’t cross the twain

And make him smart

He just knows rip and consume

Yet he still casts gloom

Around the corpse dirt tracked

By his dirt-moldy shoes

Frankenstein monsters

Shape-shifters and creepy clowns

Haunted male dolls

All surround me mercilessly

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

Hard work helps fade out the nightmares

So Roomie and I

Get the chain saw

Attacking the fence

That made an exit for our dogs

And he saws as I pull the branches away

The tree branches speak as

Suddenly my fingers tingle

And the Witch in me

Wants to create wands and walking sticks

As youthful fantasy

Sets my adrenaline abuzz

And I smile and think

There may not be a lover

This coming Valentine’s Day

But still plenty of love

From sons and granddaughter

From friends physical and virtual

From Roomie, in his way, too

And that is enough

For this Witch to conjure


In my heart

If only I could share it

With the rest of the world…

❤ ❤ ❤

© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE:  Magical Wood


*Scroll down for YouTube video


Searching for an identity

In this alien universe called home

Because it’s just me, most of the time,

It’s all about me

Me and plague

Me and politics

Me and poetry

Keeping busy reading, playing games,

Strumming the baritone ukulele,

Social media visits

But oh, the hours in the day

Especially since sleep near-impossible

Looking for entertainment

Here’s me in the mirror

Is that spreading flesh

A pinkish amoeba reminiscent of

A 10th grade biology book image

Seems like yesterday

I weighed 95 pounds 

How’d this happen? 

Whoa! It’s the prototype of a Fertility Goddess

With big, bloopy breasts

Wiiiiiiide hips

And well, I’ll spare you

How to make it palatable? 

Yeah, I’m a Fertility Goddess

I’m an Earth Mother

 I’m birthing all right

Birthing poems at a rate of three per day

Passing along my memory genes

My autistic imagination

Into the aethers of Internet Publishing

That’s where you’ll find

My DNA, fresh from a thus-far active mind

Meanwhile, to counteract the indoor

Lack of activity

I do work out daily

Treadmill, elliptical and

Inside, while waiting for something to cook

In the microwave, I do the “Twist” until the oven beeps

Now I’ve added something new

Despite my age, regressed to pretending

I’m a Flamenco dancer stamping my heels on

The plywood kitchen floor

To the invisible strains of Carmen

Like when I was 10, my feet are starting to

Move exceptionally fast


Sang my mother while imitating the

Operatic heroine

Strange how I remember that

And well, so much for identity and consciousness of self

Politics? Better off without them

Same with mirrors

But the existential question is

What to do

With so many hours

Alone in a house

Without the

Shopping at the Dollar Store

Without the

Illusion of Time…


©2021 Clarissa Simmens

IMAGE: Woman Playing Stringed Instrument (free image)

*See 2.51 for great strutting music


(song-in-progress, needs lots of work!)


Riding through the rain

You hitching for a Muse

Picked you up

Feeling too old for danger

You wiping sky water

Off the guitar gig bag

Just driving senselessly

Talking though

Back and forth

You don’t sneer at me


I say, Looking for a place to live

It’s lonely, but better, living alone

I get steamrolled by men and

Always give in

I’m so messy and independent

But they always want to

Make me and break me

As a man, can you tell me why?


He says, After an hour of knowing you

Just gotta say

You’re Prime Property

You’re the stilt house on an ocean beach

A cottage clothed in red roses by an endless lake

A log cabin tucked into a mountain forest

An Impressionist painting of a unique apartment

On the West bank of the Seine


No, no! says I

More a tent waiting to blow away

Pitched by a muddy creek

A trailer tragically being eaten

By algae and defeat

Too late to be someone but

To be myself would be sweet

Instead, I’m shaky on my feet


He says, Got some fame but it aint’ great

Like those guys sing:

“Money for nothing and chicks for free”

No longer the life for me

I’m a homeless man with no shelter from the wind

Alone and lost without authenticity

Allowed myself to age complicitly

Following the fake gold

Seems like a wind-swept tent or

Broken-down trailer

Is what I need


I say, Got some land bought Y2K

Out in the desert, saved for this kind of day

Going to see if it’s gonna work for me

Says he, Another piece of prime property

And we drive on….


© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Not-So-Prime-Property


(Scroll down for a YouTube video)

Better to go crazy over trying to remember

Lyrics from a forgotten Steve Miller Band song

Than to think about the state of the world or

My aging aches and pains

But can’t help wondering

How consistently I chose the wrong

Paths, people, during my entire personal life

As if I welcomed the challenge

But no, how exhausting 

With zero time

To enjoy myself

Just to relax

And let life happen

Instead, life is like a Bruce Lee movie,

Moving through the day

Doing round-house kicks

Karate elbowing

And extinguishing fires

From the mouths of dragons

In Reiki, it is common to say, “Just for today I will …”

But it’s a constant fight against the looping

Looping, just another fierce mythological monster

And my thoughts lasso me in

I’m a rodeo clown tripping over memories

And instead of time slippin’ into the future

As Steve Miller sang

It’s slippin’ into the past

I am so tired

But on a good note

I just remembered the words:

“I want to fly like an eagle

To the sea

Fly like an eagle

Let my spirit carry me

I want to fly like an eagle

‘Til I’m free…”

(we’ll skip the “revolution” part, too old 😊 )

© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Eagle Acoustic   Steve Miller Band YouTube video