Author: poeturja

I'm an independent poet--since the age of four--and a Romani drabarni (Gypsy herbalist/adviser). Recently taught myself to play ukulele and now a wannabe songwriter. Prefer writing poetry simply, striving to compose musically, including talking blues, folktales, and memoirs of life. All music genres inspire me, but I especially vibrate to Classic Rock, Folk, Romani (Gypsy), and Cajun with an emphasis on guitar, ukulele and violin music mainly in a Minor Key. I hope to heal souls and maybe poetry can accomplish that. https://www.facebook.com/RomaniGypsyBooks https://poeturja.wordpress.com/ http://t.co/JSvNROn15t

EARTH DAY (APRIL 22nd & Every day)

Despite date rapists

Feeding her chemicals

For quiet pliancy

Despite thieves

Stealing her jewels

Of gold, silver, uranium

Hidden in her

Deep, dark pockets

Despite ripping at her

Strongly skillful hands

Lovingly tending the roots

Of trees

That shelter, oxygenate, and feed

Of weeds

Intrinsic providers for healing

Of fruits and vegetables

To nourish her hungry children

Through it all

Her molten core

Fecund to the end

Like a Baby Boomer

Listening to the music

In her soul

Dancing, singing

Shouting out

“I am the mother

Of you all

And will never die”

Because the future holds

Glorious consensual couplings

With water, air, fire

And while they helplessly fail

To protect her now

She maintains her sanity

Knowing what is right

And she will never give up…

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

Image: my newest garden

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APOLOGY

Don’t keep up on Twitter
Don’t keep up on WordPress
Though I appreciate followers
My mind has been a mess
Sometimes I think I’ve answered you
But kindle and phone apps go askew
Please know I read and love your stuff
I didn’t abandon you
Apology
Don’t give up on me…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Old Los Angeles Zoo, Ghost Town Travels

UNPAVED PARADISE

*Scroll down for a Joni Mitchell YouTube video*

They unpaved paradise
And took out the parking lot
Old Sims Park
With Canna Lilies and ducks
Some so blasphemously beautiful
With red, white and black faces
Circular sidewalk for dog and walker
Huge wood fort for kids
With imagination
Then a short walk to the
Pithlachascotee River
Leading into the Gulf of Mexico
Paradise for all social classes
People like me
Parking for free
Now no place to park a car
Playground carpeted
CARPETED???
And 80 apartments
Soon to be filled
In a tiny idyll
Spilling into a lake clogged
With so-called “boardwalks”
While the ibis and ducks
Dodge cars and trucks
In a town once open and free…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGES: Orange Lake Canna Lillies, Pithlachacotee River

https://youtu.be/94bdMSCdw20 Joni Mitchell, Big Yellow Taxi

pithlachascotee river channel to gulf of mexico

 

HALLWAY UKULELE (memoir)

Beloved but battered
Blah, blah, blah
Can’t say enough
Love it badly
Patiently waiting
In heat and humidity
For me to sling it over
My narrow shoulders
And make it sing
Remembering
New teenager me
Raging Chakiris* crush
As he sang
Roses and Lollipops
Lollipops and Roses
Oh, the garbage we moon over
When young
Believing in romance
And love
Old now, don’t like the lollipops
But still adore roses
Yet
Who knew I’d be banging away
On my hallway baritone
Singing songs about
Life’s disappointments
Yet
Yet
So much fun to strum
And on really bad days
Can raid my stash
In a clothes closet pocket
Peanut butter and chocolate
Almost as good as music
And truly superior
To two-timers I have known
In the realm of romance…

*Actor-singer-dancer George Chakiris (unable to find the video)

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Red roses & baritone ukulele

MULTI-CHAKRAS

ONE

Think Red
Spectrum’s lowest frequency
When lost or crossed
Wear Red dangling from the ears
Draped and fringed across one’s back
Eat Red tomatoes on the vine
Not the GMO kind
Lick winter strawberry fingers
Glory in pomegranate-stained lips
Wear Red floral combats
For safety
And squat
Holding to the earth
Red
Protection

TWO

Think Orange
Sweet and tart
For when we laugh
Or when we cry
Out of control excitability
Tamp it down
Always regret if
Wrong words emerge
Tears of joy or anger
Sniffling up the water
Passionately flowing
Balance needed
Don’t want to be a hothead
Or cold as the undead
Orange
Emotions

THREE

Think Yellow
Disguised like tepid
Sun tea
Yet infused with
Super nova energy
Bursting with intensity
Diffusing one’s vitality
Rein in the solar strength
Save it for
More important scenes of life
When whether a hunter or gatherer
This potency throbbing within
Will need to help you win
But your mantra should be
Cause no harm
Yellow
Power

FOUR

Think Green
To be healthy and serene
Gateway to the upper Chakras
Lower levels embrace the physical
Upper levels embody the mind
All that is needed
Counterpoise
Comprising a sentient being
Chakra residing centrally
Heart’s restless pounding
Drumbeat sounding so strong
Foundation must be there
Where you find the key
Buried treasure below
Slip through the green
Warm, chlorophyll mornings
Exit the upper door
Time to face the
Toughest part of the journey
Green
Balance

FIVE

Think Turquoise Blue
Sing out the color
Interaction between you
And the world
Connectivity via
Humming, speaking, writing
Or even miming
Open up
Share your joy and sorrow
Being sad is no crime
If you don’t allow it to
Linger too long
Performance art is your goal
Reaching out makes us whole
Turquoise Blue
Communication

SIX

Think Indigo Blue
Deepening shadows
May fool you and others
But this is the time
You use the unseeable
Third eye
Insight from premonition
Accept it as an endowed sense
No need to hide behind pretense
Look at the indigo night
And as each star appears
All will come clear
As the eye adagios
Through seasonal constellations
Revealing what is true
Indigo Blue
Intuition

SEVEN

Think Violet
Spectrum of visible light’s
End of the rainbow
Only the truly spiritual
Can abide in tranquility
Cast away their trouble
Watch it decrease
A welcome release
Into the aethers of space
Tossed into black holes
Along with ego and worries
Aspiring to the final wavelength
Because we know
Life is easy
Without caprice
Simply live in kindness and peace
Violet
Spirituality

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Rainbow Baritone Ukulele by Kumbayart, Etsy

ON AUTISM

When the first fish
Walked out of the water
On newly-formed limbs
The ferns and trees
Must have clucked
Blaming these new mutations
On vaccinations
An adaptive immunity
Present in the seas
On affected chromosomes
From chemical run-off
Into the water
Now that there is an
“Alarmingly” high incidence
Of autism,
And being HFA
On the spectrum
Myself,
I cannot help wondering
Whether we are the
Next evolutionary step
Is it just time
For a change in humanity
Like a new human
Who is unable to understand
The expressions on the faces of others
Yet is also unable to lie
Like a new human
Who seems alien
(So alienated we are)
Yet intelligent “savants”
Who have often brought
Gifts as important as Prometheus’
Fire to mankind
Will we someday be labeled
(Our genus and species)
By binomial nomenclature
As Homo autisticus
Rather than Homo sapiens?
Just wondering…

© 2015 (repost) Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Autism Awareness ribbon

REMINDER: NOT ALL AUTISTIC PEOPLE ARE THE SAME

ACHROMATIC BLACK

 

*Scroll down for a YouTube video*

A hueless color
Completely absorbing visible light
It’s why I wear only black
Born in the wrong century
Incorrect body size
It’s why, despite the breakdown
Of facial skin beginning to fossilize
I Amy-Winehouse my eyes
Disguise my hands with black lace
Goth Granny needing moonlight
Bathing me in a silvery beauty
Short and going dumpy
No longer a cutie
But hey, I’m alive
But hey, I’m self-propelling
But hey, I’m happy in my
Quirky feminist way
It’s a new day
And we Baby Boomers
Who cannot afford cosmetic surgery
Sneer at botox and chin lifts
Avoiding mirrors during the day
But hey, we’ve got the secret of youth:
Classic Rock
And like Jagger sang
I’ll paint it black
And like Amy sang
I go back to black
Now I’m off to sing and play
Songs about glorious black
Creating a memorable sound track
As another birthday approaches…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Amy Winehouse

 

 

 

SO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT AUTISM IS LIKE?

(APRIL IS AUTISM AWARENESS MONTH. THIS IS A REPOST)

I know there is a protest by Autistics Against Autism and I understand. I, too,
object to the way we are all grouped together or treated as if we are a disease that
needs to be eradicated. I suppose, since I come from a time before autism was
diagnosed and lived in a vacuum, not knowing what was wrong, I appreciate any
information that has arisen since the birth of Google. We are all different. This poem
is ME! Not Joe Blow, not Jane Doe! My particular experience. Love and Peace to
us all…
Autism is standing still while
Everyone runs for the cliff edge
And you want to know why
Before joining them
But the surge pushes you down
And they thunder across your back
And you’re bloody but not broken
Because the rage keeps you sane

Autism is always being chosen
To be
The Cheese
In Farmer in the Dell
The Cheese stands alone
In the middle of the circle
As baby classmates point and sing
And you cry
But the next year you don’t cry
You will never let them break you
At least they won’t know
You care

Autism is getting it wrong when a boy flirts
Confusion from what he means
Interpreted by his ego
Thinking you’re indifferent
To his oh-so-obvious charms
And he hates you

Autism is being nice to a boy
Who seems like a friend
But not realizing
His ego cannot allow someone like you
To be kind
i.e., flirt (must be, he reasons)
And he hates you
For showing interest in his
Oh-so-obvious charms

Yet autism is like everyone else
Loving friends and movies
Books and games
Dreaming of being asked
To the prom
And buying a dress
To transform the lightning and thunder
Into rainbows of love, peace and happiness

Autism is loving sex and drugs and rock and roll
But luckily learning that drugs can take you
Where you don’t want to go
Because you can’t come back
But some nights you think
Maybe that’s not bad
What’s to come back to?
Only thunder and lightning and rain

Autism is when married
Choosing a dysfunctional like you
Yet he becomes an adversary
Family and friends roll their eyes
And laugh when he reveals your secrets
Meant only for him
It’s not like you’re barking like a dog
Or flapping your hands
Everything looks “normal”
But there must be some type of invisible mark
That all can see
Except me

What do they see?
What did I do?
What did I say?

Answers? No, so
Although I’ve never been a head banger
I want to badly butt
My head against theirs
Make them see
I’m like them
I am!
But I don’t know what to say
My tongue gets in the way

Children come
One is finally labeled
“Somewhat autistic”
What does that mean?
No information
Never heard the word before
No idea I am
We’re all so different
But children raised
In the offbeat way
AKA, autistic
And their lives
Get drenched in different shades of rain
Thunder, lightning
Mudslides

What is Autism?

Autism is traffic jams
Oncoming headlights in
A foggy, dark night
Thunder drowning out your heartbeat
Automobile stereo’s base line ripping through your brain

Autism is thunder in your soul
As rain pours from your eyes
And lightning jerks your strings

Autism is knowing you are safest locked alone
In your room
Where no one can hurt you
But the curse is
Like everyone else
You crave society…

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

 

 

BLUES IN THE AFTERNOON

To live with no regrets
True translation:
To live and take
Responsibility
For those incidents
We do regret
There is no time machine
No way to return
To the scene of the shame
So easy to forgive others
Hard to forgive ourselves
Especially if we were children
Helpless
And victims of family
Out of control
Eventually attracting
Friends, spouses
Ripping apart our soul

Maybe three in the morning
Is heart attack time
But for me
Three in the afternoon
Is when I sing the Blues
Blood sugar down?
Morning high
(Brought on partially by coffee)
Has fatally crashed
Blues between noon and dusk
My heart’s an empty husk

Not much natural blue
In Nature
Rare birds
Rare flowers
Blue reserved
For sky and sea
Morphing to Indigo
A representation
Of Third Eye Wisdom
Along the chakra rainbow
Fourth House of the zodiac
Home
Capricorn in the Fourth
No easy way to say this
Not an easy natal moment

I so hope I can struggle to my end of days
In self-made love and peace in a glorious blaze…
(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Picasso’s Blue Period, Old Guitarist

RED SONG-IN-PROGRESS (memoir)

Red Rover Red Rover
For Red to come over
Childhood game
When our blood did flow
Scrapes and red-tinged bandaids
With young bodies
Pulsing like Native drums
At American pow-wows

Red
Blood
Life
Flood

The beat goes on
The heat pulsing the blood
And then one day
It changes…

Flirting and hurting
Judged, loved or hated
Trying to walk dignified
Through teen years as the
Moon monthly controls
Female tides
Red flow meaning
Safe another month
Slut-footing past the boys
Pulsing like Gypsy tambourines
At doo-wapping City corners

Red
Blood
Life
Flood

The beat goes on
The heat pulsing the blood
And then one day
It changes…

Sleep with legs straight
So blood will circulate
But I awake
In a tight fetal state
With that artery
Behind my left knee
Pulsing like Santana drums
At Woodstock

Red
Blood
Life
Flood

The beat goes on
The heat pulsing the blood
And then one day
It’s gone…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Red#1