Gypsy

SARA E KALI DAY (MAY24-25)

 

My annual poem:

(scroll down for YouTube videos of the celebration)

 

My heart will be in

Saintes Maries-de-la-Mer

Where my soul will dance

In Languedoc, Camargue

The South of France

 

Not only a refuge for the Knights Templar

And Mary La Magdalene

But also home to countless images

Of Black Virgins so serene

Reflecting peaceful love

 

Sara E Kali—Sara the Black—

Confluence of the Hindu Goddess Kali

Women warriors combating political folly

Some sinners but certainly

The church-approved saints

 

One version of the story

Tells of Marie Jacobe and Marie Salome

Accompanying Mary Magdalene

When she fled the Holy Land

After attempting to make a stand

 

We Roma believe that

Sara, a Gypsy,

Saw their boat floundering and

Tossed her (head scarf) diklo

Upon the waters, when they could not row

 

This enabled the three Marys to

Walk or sail across the water to shore

Establishing a rapport

Between the women forever more

As they brought their message of peace

 

The Roma come to the town

These two dates in May

To celebrate Sara E Kali

Patron saint of Gypsies and Travellers

To show their love on a feast day

 

In an alcove stands the tall, lovely statue

Serenely gazing out of large, dark eyes

Covered in beautiful, filmy diklos

Presented by those who ask for help

Or have received help from one so wise

 

Saint Sara E Kali, carried into the sea

Violins and voices of praise

This sublime personification of a

Saint-Goddess-Woman surrounded by bouquets

Apocryphal representative of our bloodlines

 

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja), Parallel Universe Café and Other Poems

IMAGE: Personal statue of St. Sara E Kali in a Mulberry Bush

 

https://youtu.be/sshwtkEAxvY  Les Saintes Maries-de-la-mer

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6jx8EIZbIs  Gipsy Kings background music Les Saintes Maries-de-la-mer

 

 

 

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LESSON NOT LEARNED (my thin-skinned reply to a negative reviewer)

Imparting lore, knowledge

To others with love

Plainly stating

This is NOT an herbal reference book

So many of those already available

All different cultures

No

This is 4-planes medicine

Physical, yes, a bit

But also

Emotional

Mental

Spiritual

Roma—Gypsies—did not travel

With huge herbariums

Have you ever lived in a trailer?

I lived in a Fifth Wheel for two years

I lived in a 15-foot travel trailer for more years

There is barely room for everyday necessities

So why would readers/reviewers think

We should copy the great herbals

For your viewing pleasure?

The Gypsy herbarium was in the surrounding forests

In the wild flower fields

In the rivers and streams

But all that changed

I’d never recommend wildcrafting

When plentiful poisons threaten the land

Only basics are tucked lovingly away

In the vurdon—wagon—that is home

No detailed grimoires exist

Most didn’t know how to read or write

The oral tradition served for everyday cures

If more serious, the Witch-in-the-hole

Was consulted

Or the Vrezitorka  (so say my Sinte family)

Or the Chovaxani (so say my Kalderash side)

If the town hid one

There was no pantheon of gods and goddesses

Although sprung from India

Speaking a bastardized version of Sanskrit

Now named “Romanes”

Gypsy Chib

But Mother Earth

Father Sky

And a few household helps

Like the Domovoi

Lived alongside the Gypsies

Whether they traveled or

Unfortunately became slaves

In Eastern Europe

No collection of pharmaceuticals

The lesson is

Portability

What can be carried on the back

Is most important

Even today

Many of us grow

To adulthood

Learning that lesson

Herbs?

Magic Words?

Future paths

To live life joyfully

Contained in the 22 numbers

Of the Drom Ek Romani

That some call the tarot

The day of birth

Reveals your lifetime study

15 is mine

Temptation down the wrong path

Add to get 6

Love thrown in the mix

Read the book

It’s all explained

This past week

It was useful for me to be ill

Helping me remember

The simple cures

Seeing that they still work

That’s the other lesson

Less is better, always…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

Re: Drab Lil: A Gypsy’s Medicine Book © 2014

BACK IN A FEW DAYS? WEEKS?

I will be taking a few days (weeks?) away from social media, although friends and family think I won’t last 3 minutes.  I have a poetry project that I just can’t seem to complete.  I will try to catch up with your always-wonderful blogs and posts but in case I don’t, feel free to draw my attention to them anytime.  My email is posted on my WordPress “About” page.  If you follow me on FB or are a friend, you can find my gmail address and new phone number on that “About” page.  I love text messages more than phone conversations but will do both.

 

I leave you now with two reblogs of my poems for World Water Day (March 22nd).  Have a wonderful week!

 

❤ Clarissa/Viata/Poeturja

REPOST FOR WORLD WATER DAY 3-22-17

 

WATER, WATER EVERYWHERE, NOR ANY DROP TO DRINK*

 

Salt scent sending messages

From the Atlantic Ocean

A body of water that might be

The end of the world

Because who knows what’s really through

The vanishing point?

 

Fishy fragrance floating

From the green seaweed

Although the Gulf of Mexico

Has its share of redness

Also known as the Red Tide

Destroyer of manatees and fish.

 

Storm runoff pollutes

Sulphur Springs’ once-healing water

Filling dangerous sink holes

Sucking cars and people

Into shifting sands meant

To be a beach, not a city.

 

Hydroelectric power produced

By a Florida-Georgia dam

Where Lake Seminole and others

Contribute their fresh water

Lovely parks, lots of fish

Share the energizing of air conditioners.

 

Shallow-water well weeps

In my backyard, famous Florida aquifers

Water-filled layers of earth

Over 31,000 areas of known

Groundwater contamination

Better not get mine tested, ignorance is bliss…

 

© 2015 ViataMaja, WATER

 

*Title based on The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Samuel Taylor Coleridge

 

Romanian Gypsies

ROMANI PRAYER (WORLD WATER DAY MARCH 22ND)

 

Dig, dig, send down the pipes

Share with us the

Holiness of water

A Madonna in blue

Sheltering inside Mother Earth

There for all to share

Yet, although we believe,

This saint eludes us

Poor Gypsies

Living on trash heaps

That are surely

The vomit of a sick mother

Who no longer has the strength

To bless us with her fresh springs

We poor, living as if in war

Send down the pipes

Pray for the rights

That belong to all humans

Except us…

(c) 2015 ViataMaja, WATER

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2285796/Romanian-gypsies-living-condemned-ghetto-mayor-built-wall-around.html

 

 

 

ARCANA

 

Never use these words, says Gran

Only in dire emergency

She says in the Romani chib:

“Open the door to Arcana”

In my dazed state

The word eludes me

English tangles with

Two family dialects

Kalderash and Sinte

So I come up with Piro Hudar Arcane

Will have to do

 

I walk to the edge of the fog

Gran said, Doesn’t matter what country or town

The fog is yours

Three times turn

What’s your favorite number?

Four

Shtar

Chant shtar times for protection

Her voice fades

 

Early, early in morning

Galbi—gold—in ears and wrists

Step over the vaporous border

Turning, holding

Bal, mutra, shungar, rat

Lock of my still long silver crown

Secret fluids contained inside

Blood of my ancestors

All long ago died

 

Am I wasting this one chance

Do I really need help

Gran’s voice again

Call help, look up

And listen

See who comes

Here is a coin

Keep it forever

Bring it into the fire

Of the ending of one

Beginning of the next

 

When do I need help

Who do I call

You will know, said Gran

No, so overwhelmed

Do I use for love or money?

Do I use for health or happiness?

You will know

 

This misty morning

I think I know

I think I need to not save it

But the doubt

Stuff Gran never explained

Me wondering if half of it

Was made-up shit

To scare, impress

An autistic granddaughter

Whose only power

Was make believe

 

Falling back on my

Four familiar friends

Phu, Paj, Haburo, Rat

Earth, Water, Air, Fire

How can it be

Do I truly see

Or is it senility

Through the haze appears

A crow-faced man

Holding a stringed instrument

Courier and a harp

Anagrammed

Open the door to arcana

 

You summoned me

Said he

My honesty wins

I don’t know why I’m here

I don’t know what to do

I do

Let me do the rest

I know

I know all

 

Misty morning wrapping me

Like the finest silken shawl

I take a deep breath

Close my eyes

See images unknown

To modern tech screens

Hear music unheard

On hides, ivory or fine animal strings

Smell powerful spices

Swirling around my face

Taste prehistoric water

In a state of unbelievable grace

Feeling, feeling

What’s been missing

What has hidden from me

My chaotic decades

Now moving out of the mist

 

How important was it all?

Asks he

Do you see?

 

Why did I wait so long to know

How different life could go

 

Only you have the power of you…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Richmond Park Photos

GLOBAL DINNER

HEALTH & HAPPINESS TO FRIENDS & FAMILY!

Christmas is a time of birth

New traditions from the Earth

Capsicum annum from Mexico

A green pepper named Poblano

Cicer arietinum from the Middle East

Garbanzo or chick pea, what a feast

Allium cepa from Bronze Age digs

Onions growing under dirt and twigs

Glycine max from China and Japan

Crumbly bean curd extends the life span

Solanum lycopersicum from the Southern Hemisphere

Tomatoes cooked make a saucier new year

Blending magical ingredients is so much fun

My Romani gulash in a stove-top cauldron!

,

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: My Poblano-Garbanzo Gulash

#18 SHON (MOON)

FROM MY FIRST POETRY BOOK MADAME SOSOSTRIS EXPLAINS

IN CELEBRATION OF THE SUPER MOON:

i.

Controller of tides, planting and our lives

Be sure to mark the cycles of the moon

New to Full: blood flows, tides rise, energize!

Full to New: low-key time, altering soon.

ii.

The moonlight bathes us in mixed emotions

Both melancholy and serenity

While the turbulence of tides from oceans

Tries assailing our known identity.

iii.

Deceptively eerie shadows are cast

Lunar lessons divide the month in four

The Quarters are New and First. Full and Last

Learning phases helps you master them more.

iv.

Close the TV and go into the night

Joyously dance under moonlight so bright!

© 2014 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja), sonnet from

Madame Sosostris Explains: A Poetry Patchwork

TO LIVE INSIDE A DECK OF CARDS

To live inside a deck of cards

Safer place to reside

Than the world of flesh

Wouldn’t really be two dimensional

Because the true thinking

Goes on there, not here

In the Third dimension

I shuffle my Drom Ek Romani

The Way of One Gypsy

Amateur drawings first conceived

When very young

Although my artistry never improved

Each card is imbued

With my soul signature

I enter seeking refuge

With my agenda-less friends

(After all, I am their agenda)

When alone and blue

And want to hear the truth

It will not hurt my feelings

Like lies do, as told by

Three-dimensional people

Smiling into my face yet

Secretly sneering

I find myself in a polar universe

The Physical plane

Ice-encrusted imposing castle

Against a blue-tinged sky

Kapuri card 9

Imprisonment

Solitary confinement

Self-imposed?

My thoughts so imprecise

How do I melt the ice

Moving onto a theater stage

Opened curtains for performing serpent

Plane of Emotion

Slobozil Pe Maya card 10

Strip away the illusions

When I cannot accept life

I fantasize

Fine

Just don’t insist on making them a reality

Decades of falling into the same trap

The serpent represents wisdom

He hisses, but kindly

And I move away

Not quite twilight, I reach

A dark cave sheltering huge eyes

Guga card 20

Face your fears

This, then, is the Mental plane

Blinking eyes

Use your eyes

They seem to say

Then process all in your mind

Don’t be blind

How to trust my judgment

Once again a serpent

Wrapped around a tree

Reminiscent of that biblical story

But quite different

The snake, a she, wants me

To stop hanging on her tree

Sap card 12

You will hang here with me

Until you learn

Sacrificing your life

When all along you only need

To let go

This is the Spiritual plane

Trust in the Universe

Listen to what it sings

Most importantly

Trust in yourself

I am now on a bridge

Between the Third and Second dimensions

So safe here with friends

So frightening there

The world like a ring

With facets of faces

Multiple emotions

Directed my way

Don’t make me cross that bridge…

But I do…

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Four Drom Ek Romani cards

WORKING POVERTY

 

From medieval times

Romani women

Peering at palms

Some silken soft

Fewer worn and callused

Mapping wet tea leaves

Extracting colorful dyes from

Precious saffron

Strong spices

Local flora, used to

Embellish wood chips

Painted arcane symbols

Touched by the questor’s hands

Anxiously listening to

Forthcoming flutterings

Struggling to earn a few coins

That will stay sewn

Into the hem of the skirt

Lined with tiny mirrors

Reflecting jakhalo

Whether the Evil Eye

Deliberate or accidental

Part of the colorful clothes

An Eastern European version

Of the sari once worn

Before driven from the homeland

Into a freezing diaspora

Scattering all over the world

Some unluckily becoming slaves

Feeding the maw of

Greedy jaws

Until desrobireja

Emancipation

In the 19th century

Freedom once again

To travel the muddy roads

Never escape, though,

From need and someone else’s greed

Saving those few coins of comfort

In a romanticized job

With longer hours

Than nine to five

I, no better than my ancestors

The working poor

Trying to stay alive…

 

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE:  A Chance Meeting with a Fortune-Teller, Adrien Moreau 1834-1906

 

 

 

BAXTALO BAREDER RAT (FORTUITOUS SUMMER SOLSTICE June 20)

(MY ANNUAL SUMMER SOLSTICE POEM)

 

Here is the sun

To warm Mother Earth

A female celebration

Mixed into a cauldron

Of light and dark

One dipper of Seriousness

To care for the Earth

Plant the food needed

Harness the sun

For solar power

Heat our water

Run our modern machines

One dipper of Mischievousness

Turn over the cauldron

Spill out the fun

Onto our Mother’s flowing

Green dress

Bonfires

Dancing

Games

A life-affirming carnival

Because the darkness

Never lasts

Because the darkness

Eventually lightens for all

And it is up to us

To embrace it while we can…

 

 

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja), Parallel Universe Café and Other Poems

IMAGE: pinterest.sunset.mobile.twitter

Vlatko Stefanovski – Gipsy Song (Eh da imam)

Gypsy lyrics

Gipsy Song

Gypsy Song

Sutka i Topaana imaat edna mana
sto ne se vo Indija
Za da vidi Krisna sto e toa zivot
Na vesela dolina

Jas sum setal, jas sum bil na zapad
Duri do Germanija
Za da najdam parse leb za mene i za
Mojata familija

Ej, da imam, ko sto nemam
Pa da kupam bel konj
I da javam, denje noke
I na jave, i na jave i na son

Sekoj od nas ima svoja zvezda
sto go prati dur e ziv
Koga sveti jako, covek ima sreka
Koga gasne sudbina

Ej, da imam, ko sto nemam
Pa da kupam bel konj
I da javam, denje noke
I na jave, i na jave i na son

Ej, da imam, ko sto nemam
Ke ti kupam krevet,
Za da spies ti so mene
Iljada i, iljada i edna noc …

Translation:

Shutka and Topaana have one shortcoming
–…

View original post 150 more words