Month: July 2022


My demon


Is ill health

So I copied Kali’s

Necklace of skulls

To destroy the evil

Of sickness

Skulls merely metal or crystal

Of course

Placing it around my forehead

Migraines fade away

On my chest

Heart beats twice instead of thrice

On my legs

Bones recall their job of support

Kali and her garland of human skulls

Signify the Fearsome Divine Mother

Fighting evil to prevent the tipping of

The balance of power

51 skulls

51 = number of the Sanskrit alphabet letter

Alphabets were the source of mysticism

In ancient times

Celtic Battle of the Trees*

Hebrew Kabbalah as Tarot’s 22

Probably every culture

Saw meaning in letters and numbers

The original symbolism

Mundamala is the Hindu word

For skull garland

Kali’s iconography

That fearsomely divine mother

I invoke Kali

To help me heal

Myself and loved ones…

© 2022 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE:  Kali and skull garland*Battle of the Trees, Robert Graves’s “alphabet” poem, from the Medieval Book of Taliesin The Battle of the Trees (

GIMME THAT VIBE (song-in-progress, needs work!)

Tinge it with your melancholy

Says he to me

Add that Gypsy sadness

To my European righteousness

You are the manager of minor chords

While I control the 

Logic of life

Ah, says me

But can you guess

Which of us is truly free…?

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Where’s that rhythmic beat, girl,

Gimme that vibe

Liberate the words and melody

From a dream you cannot hide

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{Tambourine, Fiddle, Ukulele, Concertina Instrumental}

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The song we’re working on’s not so Blue

It can be Jazz, Zydeco or Cajun too

Tweak it to a Southern monsoon

Call it Swamp Rock 102

Change the words, you’re no beginner

While I’ll be glad to mix up the tune

Yeah, the song’s a Grammy winner 

Written under the dark of the Moon

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Where’s that rhythmic beat, girl,

Gimme that vibe

Liberate the words and melody

From a dream you cannot hide

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{Tambourine, Fiddle, Ukulele, Concertina  Instrumental)

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Rap it out, going pro is what it’s all about

You be the poetic troubadour

While I’m fiddling for those on the dance floor

Maybe we’ll be invited to perform

At the world music or folk festival

Singing and playing the blood of our soul

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Where’s that rhythmic beat, girl,

Gimme that vibe

Liberate the words and melody

From a dream you cannot hide

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{coda instrumental}

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© 2022 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Instrumental 2


Fiery breath of a flying dragon

Brighter than summer’s midnight sun

Freeze the wings and make it undone


Broom ourselves to the polar caps

North or South, we need no maps

Icy snow melts, glaciers collapse


Civilization’s cough-cough emissions

Doesn’t take much for accidental ignition

Luckily we have protesting musicians


Water and salt of the sea

Cauldrons of brine and debris

Easy to know what we all foresee


Solar system in crystal globes

Percolating pandemic microbes

Escape rockets needed for space probes


Seeds bursting in shells

In a cell, forced to dwell

Let me out of this hell


Travesty of a political speech

Negativity easy to teach

But almost impossible to impeach


Purify our gallant universe

All negatives can be reversed

Lodestones vacuum away a silent curse


What then is the endgame outcome

Listen to biology’s insistent thrum

All, as  one,  demanding freedom…


© 2022 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)




A stream-of-consciousness poem

On seeing the statues of Polovtsians

AKA Cumans

Anthropomorphic stelae

A commemorative—vertical–slab of stone

Carved in human images of

Ancestors, warriors, and their wives

My mind travels

From there to Turkish wars

With the Impaler


AKA (who some say)

Is Dracul the Dragon

And the Black Sea churns on

Historically, tying Turkish Ottomans

To Slavs and Mongol DNA

Roma Gypsies as slaves

Plying their talented trade

Extraordinary musicians

Being immortalized by

Borodin’s opera Prince Igor

Based on the Polovtsians

With the tambourine dance

And special way to play

The instrument

Until medieval genocide

Rips another group from the world

Nothing remains on the steppes

Of Ukraine and over windswept hills

Of Eastern Europe and Asia

But statues standing in rain and snow

Like Easter Island heads of erosion

Oh wait, there are those who rescue

Some of these stelae

Men in carved uniforms

Women holding purses and wearing jewelry

Perhaps all is not lost

But then it is

Because my mind leaps to the song of the Byrds

American rock group singing the psalm

Written by Pete Seeger

Turn with the seasons


And today

In the Ukraine

It is a season of war

A time for all to be torn down

An end to lost cultures

History, Sociology, Art

And a Peter-Paul-Mary song

Shadows the Byrds

And I hear the words:

A Time to try the souls of men

Isn’t this a terrible time…?

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© 2022 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGES: Polovtsian Statues/Anthropomorphic Stelae, YouTube video Polovtsian Dance,

YouTube video  Borodin’s tambourine (how to play)


Blessed are the crones

For we have lived the paths

Others have yet to walk

< >  < >  < > 

Lighting the way

Like Hecate


Twin torches

She of the Moon

< >  < >  < >   

As the Universe

So the Soul…

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© 2022 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE:  Hecate & the Night Sky