alone

EXCLUDED

 

No one approaches

The edge of the swamp

I, alone

Am the sojourner…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Edge Of My Swamp

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OBSESSING, NATURALLY…

(photo from FB Memory set me off about leaving on Thursday)

Morning

Exhausted

From little to no sleep

I’m a mass of

White-pink-gray-blue

Brains or intestines or

Pile of pythons

Primal soup solidified

Try to untangle

Thrown into the void

Falling

Dogs desert me

As I hurl myself to safety

Thoroughly awakening

To what type of day?

Oh, no, I’m going away

From the swamp

From the ginger

From the dogs

From the music…

 

What makes people

Want to travel?

Is it easier with

Sister or Brother

Friend or Lover?

I’m used to being alone

Will eventually feel okay

Do wish, though

There was someone to hold onto

While wading through strangeness

And strangers

Oh no, I’m going away

From the swamp

From the ginger

From the dogs

From the music…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

Image: CS from FB Memory 2014 with ginger

 

IN THE CLOSET

 

Confessed autism

Honesty not always best

Some non-autistics scared

Think we violently meltdown

Read: murderous

(Witnesses doomed to burn)

At best we seem stiff

Read: weird

(Because we don’t like the touch of strangers)

At worst, we seem iffy

Read: untrustworthy

(Because we don’t march cadently)

How about that occasional

Inappropriate comment

Sorry, I thought it was funny

I see it’s not

Hey, where you going?

(Another friend lost)

So where are all those people

Who want to mainstream us

Struttin’ around

Writing books and speeches

Raising money

But will you be my friend?

Will you hang out with me?

“We’ll get together soon…”

Yeah, I heard that line

From a Harry Chapin song

Read: NO

So seems I was smart

Being in denial for years

No one ever knew

But then, I woke up

Thought I could be true

To me and you

But here’s my realistic view:

Sometimes it is better

Not to emerge from

The autism closet

Unless you have a superpower that others want

Read: fame, fortune

But some days you’ll know

Who the real friends are

And they will appear

Mysteriously

To brighten your days…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: CLOSET (Pinterest: no attribution)

 

 

TRAJECTORY

 

Live long enough

Might find you’re in

A personal déjà vu

Full circle

Repeating events

People, places

A bit different

But it’s like

This is it

Get it right

This time

Some call it

Instant Karma

But here we are

Older

And like reprising a role

Done when young

The script remains the same

Can we make alterations?

Will we?

Sitting and staring

Like my little girl self

Children are prisoners

So are the aging

But I’m desiring the other side

Would wander in sandy boots

Climb tree canopies

Lift my wings

Through the clouded gateway

Barely brushing the leaves

But hey, deep down I know

Nothing will change

Nowhere to go

It’s me

Still me

And all the years of playing adult

Doing, dreaming

Tangential meanderings

Circumferencing

The full circle

360 degrees

Add that up

(Oh, yeah, it’s all numerology to me)

Equals 9

Tarot Hermit

Seeking the truth

For once, though

I do not mind

The vision of

Swinging a lantern

Through darkness of indecision

It is finally a relief

To be

Alone…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: fenced in

FREE1

 

CHI-CHING

 

Buy, buy, buy

Make the pain go away

No longer smoke

Eat chocolate

Booze or toke

Nothing to do

But

Buy, buy, buy

Borderline hoarder

Part of the Acquisition Society

The only relief for my anxiety

My poor sons

Shoveling out my sh*t

When I pass to the

Great beyond

The thing is

One ages

Wisdom is the gift

Seeing the truth

Yet still empty

Impoverished

Dunked in the Fountain of Youth

All that remains

Is to smile at myself

Now knowing that buying

Is the cure

To make that desperation

An aching starvation

Go away

For at least a day…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: some of my ukuleles

 

 

Work in progress for Blues unloved-song*

 

Bb7/ Shovel up the corpses

G9/ Of our forever lost love

Bb7/ Scatter tear-stained bones

G9/ For murders of crows

Bb7/ Picking treasure that’s Dm/ my end

 

Dig deep in the Earth

Where’s that underground spring

Bubbling, soothing dusty souls

Another promise killed in the drought

Of what passes for love

 

The stars, merely a phantasm

All dead many light years ago

Tarot Swords say, stay away

But only until the resolution

Surfaces clear as 20-20 vision

 

Lying in dying winter sun

Swamp beyond the fence

Full of bird activity

Perching Florida Black vultures

So wish they’re here for me…

 

© 2017 lyrics & chords Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: FL Black Vulture over my swamp

*Need to learn a few more Blues chords before finishing…

SO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT AUTISM IS LIKE?

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 bass 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…

 

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja), from my book Miniature Worlds Sublime

IMAGE: zmescience.com

 

ABANDONED HOUSE (sonnet)

*scroll down for a YouTube video*

 

Doesn’t take a therapist to know why

I bond with exhausted, forsaken shacks

Nothing but the crows circling with a cry

Prowling, feral cats alert for live snacks.

 

Why empty so long? How did this house fail?

Dirty pink insulation leaking out

Of screaming mouths with crying walls so frail

Mold and dirt and shaky steps, cause for doubt.

 

What happened here in the maddened attic?

Ancient clothes and books hug the swollen floors

Tell me your secret, you ache brick by brick

Relinquish the mystery of closed doors.

 

No one deserves abandonment, ever

Helping lost and wrecked, lifetime’s endeavor.

 

© 2014 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja) from Poetic Alchemy:Talking Blues

(tweaking an old poem)

**YouTube video Ella Mai, Left Me https://youtu.be/yOVNS12CVqE

IMAGE: Abandoned House (public domain)

 

 

 

 

 

 

UNDERLYING STORY OF MY LIFE (to be chorded)

 

I’ve been homeless

And I’ve been hungry

Often thought, “If only”

Mostly, I’ve been so lonely

Useless as Lantana

 

Although for many years lived on nuts and fruit

Would never refuse meat hunted for food

My life spattered with many regrets

Loneliness the result of relationship upsets

 

Dream house never a reality

Drove broken-down cars or rode subways

Clothing from thrift stores helped get jobs

Been so alone, my music merely unending sobs

 

Where is my home I often wonder

Spent too many years searching for love

Lonely, unwilling iconoclast

An abandoned, forsaken, outcast

 

If you think, though, I’m depressed

I’ll tell you my secret through the years

A self-reflective sense of humor

Has saved me from being a gloom-and-doomer

 

I’ve been homeless

And I’ve been hungry

Often thought, “If only”

Mostly, I’ve been so lonely

Useless as Lantana…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)