Days of blues
Choosing to float
Through the land of fantasy
Fortunately
Necessaries in life
Make me aware
That I must take care
Of the visible part of
Existence
But soon
Even before the moon rises
Breathless and smiling
I rejoin you in the invisible clouds
Away from crowds
Where we drift through
An enclave of dreams
Together…
© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
Troubled by dreams that never appear
Over the decades can count on ten fingers
Plus a toe or two
The amount I remember
Why do I sleep delta
Instead of theta
Must turn to music
For answers
But confusing because
Lyrics don’t always differentiate
Between dreams awake
Or dreams asleep
Everly Brothers sing
Whenever I want you
All I have to do
Is dream….dream, dream, dream
Tom Petty is running down a dream
(great riff, great song)
The Monkees ask what can it mean
To a daydream believer and a homecoming queen
Even Billy Ocean sings
Get outta my dreams
Get into my car
(The backseat—honestly unromantic!)
But not many sing about a dream
About being actually asleep
About living a life of puzzle
With strangers who seem real
With cliffs shaking us off so we fall
With monsters chasing us through dark halls
With lovers whose names we call
With familiar family, friends, dogs and cats
Talking birds and stampeding cattle
Are remembered dreams too personal
A taboo translation into lyrics
Or is that the font of great art
What’s with dreams…
© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Dreams (Pinterest, no attribution)
1
Korako, crow, oh no
Waking to you
Feathers in free-flight
Circling, then
Landing by my feet
Last time you were here
My cardinals disappeared
Lucidly rising from the pillow
I say, please, be an omen
For a good day
Really need one
2
You look at me with
All-knowing eyes
As I stare back at you
Trying to be strong but kind
I ask you to move along
Spare me live-at-five
Real-time demonstrations
Of the food chain at work
3
Thought I was awake
But you answered me
In perfect American English
“Good for you, bad for me
I do it only when hungry”
Do it down the street, then
Cardinals are nesting there too
4
Korako gives me a sad look
“Your cardinals are more important
Than those of neighbors?”
Chastened, eyes closed
I try to go deeper into sleep
Want to forget the dream
Almost waking time
Subconsciously hear my dogs
Scratching, moving around the bed
Korako fading into that other world
And I, tribal sociopath, am left
Self-reflecting on selfishness
Taught to me by korako…
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: How To Draw A Tribal Crow by Dragoart.com
Wow! What was in that Veggiburger from the snack bar on the train ? It was a jalapeno delight reminiscent of Homer Simpson’s night in the desert , the episode where he makes his chili and hallucinates .
It led to the ocean
An old dirt path
Geographically impossible
The Atlantic Ocean could not exist in that place
But no mistaking it
Even in that space
Gray, cold with an undertow
Salty waves
Sand sucked right under the toes
And sand crabs
Tiny toe nippers scurrying around
Excavating the ground
So I sat and sniffed
The pungent saline scent
Willing my left brain to explain, using logic
Then realized the only explanation
From that hemisphere
Would be psychotic break
No thanks
I’ll try next-door
Right brain will know
And it creatively tossed out
Multiple reasons for an ocean in the city:
“Stumbling through to a parallel universe”
” Dreaming a lucid scenario”
On and on the reasons formed
Until I begged the mind to cease
Because who really knew?
Why not just enjoy the vision
And see where it led
And yes, I now know …
(c) 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
(Here is a haiku stack I wrote in April. I’ve recently attempted to turn it into a song so added chords and it actually seems to work! Well, that’s a subjective opinion but…)
Am/ Let me close my eyes
C/ And lightly float into the
G/ Enigma of dreams
Em/ Magic cauldron scents
Am/ Spicing the cooling breezes
E/ Of feverish nights
Am/ Share your soul with me
C/ Whisper secret desires
G/ Glide through stormy skies
Em/ Let me close my eyes
Am/ Wisps of past memories gone
E/ New links forged for us
Am/ Just let me lie back
C/ And lightly float into the
G/ Mystery of love
Em/ To recall again
Am/Trembling urgency in the
E7/Enigma of Am/ dreams
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: My concert ukulele and copy of the song
Repost: Wrote this last August, longing for winter. Now it is not even Summer Solstice and I’m wishing to leap ahead in time. Says a lot about my ability to WAIT…
<dream fragment>
Where is the sea?
Familiar salt smell
An invisible pull
Of negative ions
Grains of sand
Tumbling in the wind
Arranging lines of code
On a sun-screened body
Salty water invading platinum hair
Curls being tossed everywhere
Temporarily blinding
Hiding the sea from
Searching, gritty eyes
Where is the sea?
***
<reality>
I come to the pocket-sized beach
In winter only
No longer liking to be close to strangers
Alone, where I can dream
Green Key Park on the Gulf opens at dawn
Sip coffee bought from the Burger King drive-through
Not as good as mine
But convenient, tolerable
Birds, palms, sunrise on the Gulf
I pretend it is the sea
Here, it is warm like a bathtub
Some tidal action
A bit of wave hiking up to the shoreline
Sand and negative ions
Water and fiery sun
Elemental balance
I go inward more and more each year
Feel like Hesse’s Siddhartha on the river
He, like me, can think, can wait, can fast
Well, fasting, ok, not quite there yet
But able to do the rest
Because the inner life is best…
***
© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja), Parallel Universe Café and Other Poems
IMAGE: Robert K. Rees Memorial Park
Not good, Dark of Moon
Not good, standing in my yard
With Dead Mom
Not good watching an ultralight
Putt-putt-screech
Right above our heads
Somersaulting
Into the trees
But good,
Although crash, no burn
Pilot’s somewhere
Tangled in branches
Dead Mom looks at me
Shakes her head
I awake with a backache
Find my Home Depot back brace
Place around my waist
Make coffee (that’s always good)
What’s the dream mean?
Somersaulting
Dead Gran would say
A way to move into
The Mystical World
Headache now adds to the back pain
Not good, not a good day
But good is, according to Dead Gran
If the dreamer doesn’t follow the Dead
Anywhere
And I didn’t
The sky was clear
The guy didn’t die
Oh, the weather is damp
I wrap an ace bandage
Around my strumming/mouse hand
So the crashing of the ultralight
Returning to Earth
According to somewhat-Alive me
Means the crashing of dreams, plans
But I’m so old now
No longer have dreams, plans
Although, I confess
When playing ukulele
I smilingly pretend I’m onstage
With really crazed fans
Flinging their Calvin Kleins at me
Just a funny fantasy
Just a dream
Where’s the coffee…?
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Ultralight trike, Wikipedia
Let me close my eyes
And lightly float into the
Enigma of dreams
Magic cauldron scents
Spicing the cooling breezes
Of feverish nights
Share your soul with me
Whisper secret desires
Glide through stormy skies
Let me close my eyes
Wisps of past memories gone
New links forged for us
Just let me lie back
And lightly float into the
Mystery of love
To recall again
Trembling urgency in the
Enigma of dreams
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Dreamscape by ex astris 1701
When I change my fantasy
To a new star of the show
I often wonder
Where you go
Silly, I know
Like tossing a half read book on the floor
Characters remain frozen
Until I read more
Yet I feel your eyes
Demanding status as main contender
Finding you more exciting
He’s swapped out and to you I surrender
The beauty of dreams:
Life is carefully scripted
Ambrosial reality
Safely encrypted
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens
IMAGE: www.pageresource.com
Sharing three in the morning
With you, but
Don’t know what zone
You’re in, or where
Wandering through the hall
Whales on the kitchen floor
Myopic stream of consciousness
Concludes
They are merely shadows
The detritus of sleeping disorders
Window A/C shakes sweating walls
Noise covering the thump of my
Crying-out-to-you pulse
Silently slowing
In its vacuum…
© Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
