EMPTY DOORS

 

*Scroll down for a Doors video

Jim joined the trash heap
Not my idea
But Roomie owns the home
No more shades on
Windows or doors
I was always his L.A. Woman
Jim’s, not Roomie’s
In my mind, anyway
And through the years
As my hair burned
And no one ever saw
A woman so alone
As me
Or even cared
I had his music
And words
As comfort
So here is my tribute
In free poetry
Nowhere near
As exceptional as Jim’s
I hum and strum
My song in Minor keys
Nothing like the extraordinary
Voice that only Jim could do
My final goodbye to you
Jim Morrison
On the good side
We know
That MR. MOJO will be RISING…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Jim Morrison shade tossed away

*L.A. Woman YouTube Video https://youtu.be/WwnLt6b7YHk

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“THE WEIGHT”

 

*scroll down for a YouTube video*

As I struggle-strum
The Band’s The Weight
I wonder what makes
A song so great
Enigmatic symbolism
But maybe all we need to know
Is that Nazareth, Pennsylvania
Is home to Martin Guitars
And in the end
It’s the music that makes
Our hearts vibrate
The words are just stepping stones
Through a 4-minute world
Created for the fan
Canadian Robbie Robertson
With Southern Levon Helm
And all the other voices
In The Band
Painting the picture
For us young hippies
For those at Woodstock
For all those who carry the song
In our hearts
For decades
Straight into old age
Yeah, they took the load off Fanny
And put the load right on me
As I struggle-strum
And screechy-sing
A song I love
And would love
To write my own
At least one-tenth as good
As The Weight
But oh-so-dry
Is the floodgate…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Baritone Ukulele and some percussion

* https://youtu.be/FFqb1I-hiHE YouTube vide The Weight

TANKA (ANANAS COMOSUS #2)

THEY ARE GROWING!  HERE IS THIS MORNING’S TANKA AND THE  ONE I WROTE ALMOST TWO YEARS AGO WHEN THE COMPOST HEAP BEGAN TO SPROUT PINEAPPLES…

(Another morning surprise in my compost pile)

Almost two years passed
And two pineapples appeared
Rubbed my morning eyes
Prickly in overgrown green
Armor hiding yellow treats

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Pineapple growing!

ORIGINAL TANKA WRITTEN 12-23-17:

TANKA (ANANAS COMOSUS)

(Morning surprise in my compost pile)

Fresh pineapple stems
Tossed in fertile Florida
Treat for backyard birds
Silent, self-rooting surprise
Pineapple fields forever…

(c) 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: My pineapple “field”

WORRY DOLLS

 

Lovely Victorian Dolls
Perfect faces
In delicate laces
Made from the finest
Cloth
China
Porcelain

And Baby Dolls
Who drink and wet
Crying “Mama” and met
With kind, childish hands
Singing lullabies learned
From their own mama
Not too many years ago

Beautiful folk dolls
Hopi Kachinas
Apple Heads
And my favorite
Matryoshkas
Nestled into each other
Never lonely, them
Like rocks enfolding a gem

So many dolls
Action Figures aimed at boys
Barbie and Ken fashion toys
And soft Rag Dolls to sleep
In night so dark and deep

How we anthropomorphize
Dolls
Children seriously engaged
Serving them tea
Teaching them to see
The world as they know
In so little time

We can feel a Doll’s pain
So what about the others
The Haunted Dolls
Broken and oh-so-scary
The Voodoo Dolls
Innocently pierced with
The anger of the jealous
Faceless Cornhusk Dolls
To bring rain for an
Abundance of harvest
How do we speak to them?
No Face
No Soul
No Rest

Oh, so sad
Those lonely Dolls
I worried about them
When a child
A source of sleep disorders
I worry about them
Now
I worry about
The Dolls with no voice
The Dolls with no choice
I worry

Today I made two spirit Dolls
Stuffed with good amulets
From my button box
How I hope that
Together they will
Break the locks
Imprisoning sad and lonely Dolls…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
Image: Spirit Dolls 2 (see link below)

http://arttherapydirectives.blogspot.com/2014/01/spirit-dolls.html

COUNTERBALANCE

(song-in-progress DGBE tuning for Baritone Ukulele or Tenor Guitar)

D/You’re afraid of getting
G/What you want
Dm/So you push me Am/away

D/You grind your jaw
G/Like broken glass
Am/Leading my heart G/astray

chorus:
F/You’ve put me on a E7/tightrope
Am/Be careful what you G/say
F/Without a balancing E7/rod
C/I’ll hit the ground Am/one day

D/I don’t know how
G/To show you
Dm/We belong as Am/one

D/Why’re you so scared
G/Of love
Am/Arctic as the midnight G/sun

chorus:
F/You’ve put me on a E7/tightrope
Am/Be careful what you G/say
F/Without a balancing E7/rod
C/I’ll hit the ground Am/one day

D/Your words freeze
G/My heart
Dm/It drops down to my Am/knees

D/Losing my eloquence
G/Merely stiltiloquence
Am/Off the roller coaster G/please

chorus:
F/You’ve put me on a E7/tightrope
Am/Be careful what you G/say
F/Without a balancing E7/rod
C/I’ll hit the ground Am/one day
C/Hit the ground Am/one day
C/Slam right into it Am/one day…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Flamingo Love in the Dirt

BEASTLY BEAUTY

ALWAYS A BIT OF CULTURE SHOCK WHEN I RETURN TO PHILLY

Big city late night smogging
Human volcano awaiting
Final intolerance of life
Neighborhood via drugs degrading

Nominally safe inside row home
Dangling a keychain of pepperspray
Alone while sons at work today
Overactive imagination spirals away

Back home in humid Florida
Gators move prehistorically
Searching for mates in yards and swamps
Devoid of any sensuality

Here in my old hometown Philly
Human hoards do the same
Cruising in cars, buses and subways
Any-cost sex, biological imperative aim

Inside I strum guitar and read
While some sad soul screams outside
Teetering between two realities
Alone on a great divide

Where is the truth
Worthy to compare?
Or is beauty hidden
Everywhere…?

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: M.C. Escher, Still Life & Street

TURBULENCE/CHAKRA MADNESS

Written on the Airbus 5-22-19

*scroll down for a YouTube video

What is the color
Of turbulence?
Chakra madness
Takes root in the dirt

RED for danger
Oh, yeah
No protection
None at all
Except yawning, disturbing
Tympanic membranes
Blocking sound
Upchucking bag
Winks at me from the pouch
Of the forward seat
A cloud below
A pill swallowed
Just in case

ORANGE for emotions
WiFi in the sky
So I type my fears to
Friends via Messenger
Just want them to know
They’re on my mind

YELLOW for power
As we bump along I say,
“Be a warrior!”
Mantras 36,000 feet in the sky
What a way to say goodbye
But I do

GREEN for health
Oh, right, what kind
Am I thinking about?
Alive and well after landing
Would be better than diet and exercise
In this time and space

TURQUOISE for communication
“Ground Control To Major Tom”
You’re there, right?
Can you hear me…?

INDIGO for the third eye
Gosh and golly gee
I can see that
I am psychic
Because as I write
The pilot dings the warning
To sit and stay
Locked away
Under a flimsy seatbelt

VIOLET for spirituality
If we believe in heaven
We sure are near it now

My airsick pill takes effect
I yawn
Bouncing along
My pen feels heavy
I yawn
Turbulence fades away…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: AIRBUS

*Space Oddity, David Bowie, YouTube

FRIENDSHIP (TURQUOISE CHAKRA)

Just back from an incomparable vacation. My feelings in this poem will also fit in
with my coming book “Chakra Madness” and the photos include my friends (Betty,
Myra, Arlene. and Wilma) and family (sons Ben and Micah and granddaughter Eliana). Thought you would enjoy the comparison pictures of me with Wilma on our way to Girl Scout camp (long ago and far away) and of me with Arlene in the 1980s when my hair was still black (how I miss it!)!

Whoever owns a turquoise
Will never want for friends
A traditional saying
For the throat chakra representing
Communication and travel
Releasing old vows and memories while
Allowing the soul to express itself
So true because our words are
Often blocked
So difficult because we take a chance
Telling others we love them
(What if they ignore our words
Or worse, laugh?)
So egotistical to not want to say
What we know
Although
Family and friends
Are our soul mates
Even when we disagree
There is a bond so very holy
And so I hold the turquoise stone
And say to family, friends, we are one
And I love you…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
Images: Sons, granddaughter, friends past and present, turquoise (wikimedia)

 

ROCKSTAR’S MESSAGE

What is the message
From RockStar
As he circles the exact contours
Of Max’s buried body
Pushing the dirt
With his snout
Then digging a small hole
Placing inside
A recycled gift of
Semi-digested jerky
Ouroboros
Circle of life
Message to Max
Message to human
And canine survivors
Here you are, Max,
Says RockStar
We will never forget
And you will have
Eternal life
In our memory…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: RockStar’s circle done by snout
(NOT A GOOD PHOTO BUT LOOK ABOVE–or is it below–THE HOLE AND YOU WILL SEE THE DEEPEST PART OF THE CIRCLE ROCKY DREW AROUND THE GRAVE WITH
HIS SNOUT).  Top of photo (RockStar on the right, Bandit on the left)

TO MAX (AND HIS SPIRIT GUIDE)

MAX August 11, 2006-April 26, 2019

On a newly-dug grave, glitters blue glass
Flicker of black, crow cawing on the grass
I pick up the gift as he heads for the burning sky
So much history between him and I
But he likes when I sing and strum
And although I’ve been given crow glass before
Never has it been obvious like this
Crow knows my pain
After burying another dog again
Crow knows I’m blue
Crow knows my woe
Crow knows…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGEs: Max’s grave with crow glass / Max