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

ANOTHER SLEEP DISORDER POEM

Migraines and nightmares
White feather floating in air
Screams echoing into darkness
It is only a dream
But what does it mean
Bad brain activity through chemistry?
Or more importantly
In my family, at least
Interpretation is everything
My mind reassures
But the image endures
As the morning progresses
Circannual rhythm begs for
Migration
As Romani ancestors’ blood
Burns from the Florida heat
Searing my already aching head
I want to leave
Circadium rhythm
Scrambles my internal clock
Producing a lifetime of insomnia
Hypnagogia
Is this another problem
Autistically to blame?
To sleep, perchance to nightmare
But I’m more like Hamlet than Ophelia
Because the dread of something after death
Makes me bear those ills
I will survive the heat
I will survive the lack of sleep
I will…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Backyard Nightlight

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FOSSIL FAMILY FETE/FATE

 

Out of the box
I call home
Into the roofless yard
Where viney red flowers
Trumpet in full bloom
At the waning morning moon
While descendants of
Archaeopteryx
Mesozoically
Cretaceously
Humbling
By their evolutionary age
Hang out at the
Bird Buffet
All you can eat
For red and brown cardinals
Woodpeckers
And tufted tits and nuthatchers
While me, this descendant of
Cenozoic mammals
Neogene on an elliptical
Chirping along with the birds
But of course, using human words
Matching melodies and tones
Brain multi-tasking
While singing “Give me the beat boys”
Also hearing William Burroughs
Sucking his cigarette, intoning:
“Truth may appear only once
It may not be repeatable…”
Thinking of all this at sun’s rising light
First cup of coffee driving the pedals
Dreaming of the night sky
Lining up an armillary sphere
Imagination visiting
Countless constellations
Infinite rooftop to my little world…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: TRANSITIONAL & BARITONE WITH WILDFLOWERS

SONG OF THE SOLSTICE

 

My annual song for Make Music Day and the Northern Hemisphere Summer Solstice/Southern Hemisphere Winter Solstice. Peace and good health to us all<3

C/ Today no peppermint Em/ tea
C/ No espresso Em/ coffee
G/ Best is the Em/ extraction
G/ Dripping from aromatic Em/ skin
A/ Xanthos-lemon Em/ juice
A/ Pressed between pomegranate Em/ lips

C/ Slipping through sultry G/ water
G/ Fresh from the Earth’s C/ sluice
C/ And I offer to G/ you
G/This catholicon of C/ love

C/ Blind taste test Em/ seen through
C/ The sun above Em/ sparkling
G/ Lighting up the Em/ longest day
G/ While indelible Em/ music plays
A/ Fine-tuned strings Em/ echoing
A/ Through circle-of-life Em/ holes of sound

C/ And the day G/ Fades away
G/ Into tie-dyed C/ black denim
C/ The matching color G/ of your eyes
G/Lemon and pomegranate C/ until sunrise
C/ Dew filtered through G/ you

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja) words & chords
IMAGE: Baritone Ukulele & Sunflowers

These chords for baritone ukulele or guitar (DGBE)
Can replace A with D for smaller ukuleles (GCEA)
Can replace Em with Am for smaller ukuleles (GCEA)

 

 

 

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

“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!

pineapple fields 1
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