love

MUSICAL METEMPSYCHOSIS

I like to think
That Jimi-Janis-Jim
All J’s
All 27
And, well, let’s add John
Older, but still a J
And then Kurt
27, but one letter over
And, yeah, Amy also 27
I like to think
They all transmigrated
And don’t remember
But because their music is
Timeless
Classical
It would play
On the radio everyday
Or come up first on an internet search
As THE song of the singer
And one day they’d stop
Then shrug and think
Deja Vu
(I know, a misused word)
But when they sit still and listen
A feeling of happiness
Of love
For the music and words
Of maybe
Purple Haze
Kozmic Blues
Riders on the Storm
Imagine
Smells Like Teen Spirit
Back to Black
And although they may not be
Singers, musicians, songwriters
This time
They are in the right place
To hear and see
Results of their legacy
So all you people
Born after their deaths
Have a one in a–
Well, I was never good at Math
But a one in a something chance
Of housing a musical soul
Maybe we would all appreciate life
If we thought of who we may have been
Of who we will be
Sometimes so hard
To love ourselves the proper way
I define the proper way
As loving oneself
And by extension
Others
Without the intention of doing harm
Love fully
Love non-violently
Because
All we really do need is love…

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Creative Commons

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ABSTRACT ARABESQUE

(song in progress)

Somewhere tapestried
Into time and space
Beat the hearts
Of an alternative place
Miniscule tweaking
As I envision the only night
We would be speaking
Because there, I am merely
A bit younger
Prettier
Thinner
Personable
We, together, are almost
Uncontrollable
Feeding each other
Mulberries
Branches triumphantly reaching
Into an alternative sky
Only a few changes and
My life would be as planned
Happy, full, secure
With love evermore
Instead, I gaze through
An intertwined tapestry
In this universe
Living the converse
No life in an ivory tower
Merely gutted
Like the sunflower
Under the unreachable mulberry tree…

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Gutted sunflower and mulberries

(working on chords for baritone ukulele and will repost)

gutted sunflower sm px

MOON LUNACY

Alone in my bed of memory foam
Sole indentation
Barely registering
Tossing and turning
Sweating in unremembered dreams
Furrowing small hills and valleys
One day you are there
Imprinting your length and width
Tossing and turning
Altering the structure
Of my memory foam
Changing my dreams
Calming the foamy sea
Strengthening
Improving
Memory
Sharing lust and love
Laughter and moon lunacy
Pure luck for me
Meeting and repeating
A concavity of love…

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Full Moon Rising by Heather Awen, author
Steel Bars, Sacred Waters: Celtic Paganism for Prisoners.

NEW POETRY BOOK

The paperback edition of my newest book Xeriscaping Poetry (A Wild Mellowing) is now available on Amazon for $6 with B&W photos. The Kindle edition is $1.99 and the photos are in color. Although I edited and redid the photos, some of them are not centered and I made the decision to leave them as is since there is some inconsistency with the Kindle Beta Program for paperback. I do want to thank Karen Bruton for her invaluable help with my book cover. I will NEVER understand how to change the DPI despite her meticulous instructions! Here is the link:

 

 

OH (song-in-progress)

 

Universe saturated in darkest matter
Endlessly echoing senseless chatter

Voicing inconsolable thoughts, feeling susceptible
To ambiguous influences barely perceptible

You want me? Then ring the salivation bell
I’m one of Pavlov’s willing dogs in hell

Gibberish scratched on an ancient papyrus
Counting rejections on a neon-lit abacus

Quotidian day dreams nudge me through life
The birth of my ideas require a midwife

Calliope music cranked in restless weather
Promises thunder down, weighing less than a feather

Oh, oh, oh, baby I’m going
Like water and lava, salty tears flowing
For you
For me…

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Round & Round

THE QUILTER (Aunt Roberta)

 

The big sister I never had
Sanest in our family
Probably why she sewed crazy quilts
In a room piled high with fabric
Zig-zagging the thread
Sad songs pounding through her head
Stitching craziness into beauty
Always kind and generous
Her birth
And death
In March
But visited me as a
Florida Great Egret
The week after leaving life
Because her love for all the family
Lives on
How we miss you…

 

Aunt Roberta & CS

 

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGES: Steppenwolf on Roberta’s quilt/Roberta & CS long ago

 

SOMETHING PRIMAL

C/Never been in love or D/loved
D/Struggled to stay C/afloat
C/Can any man be so D/perfect
D/As a series of musical G6/notes?

F/Something primal G6/making it sing
G6/Slapping bongos or F/tambourines
F/Skin aglow D/feeling the sting

C/Fantasy in D/chords of blue
D/How will I ever Am/find you

C/Flavor of a D/good man
D/Like eating chocolate C/Ice cream
C/As taste buds revived D/deliciously
D/In a piquant G6/dream

F/Something primal G6/making it sing
G6/Blowing horns hot as a F/thermal spring
F/Pumping blood rides D/an upward swing

C/Fantasy of D/honeyed kiss
D/Craving a present Am/life of bliss

 

C/Longing for a D/reality
D/Consigning all the C/nightmares
C/Back to the D/dreaded past
D/Of implacable ghosts of G6/despair

F/Something primal G6/making it sing
G6/Fast picking of guitar’s F/heart strings
F/Spiraling out on strong D/beating wings

C/Fantasy of love D/in the now
D/Intending to live the Am/myth somehow

© 2016, 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja) words and chords appearing in Self-
ie Reflections: A Blogetry Collection
IMAGE: Valentine Ukulele & Tambourine

FOR UKULELE TUNING G, C, E, A

HAPPY V-DAY!

WHERE’S DAVID BOWIE WHEN WE NEED HIM?

*scroll down for a YouTube video*
Why write a poem

About a Starman

When Bowie already did it

Like a SciFi author

Predicting the future

But gotta tell you

I believe there is

A sexy energy

In that suit

Orbiting

In his red Tesla

And oh

Aside from the

Incredible

Momentous

Meaning of the SpaceX

Launch

The Falcon Heavy Take-off

The girl in me

Just wants to be

Sitting by his side

As we ride

Across the vast place

Called space

Heading for the dance

Pulsing from the sun

At long last, romance…

 (c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: STARMAN (accuweather.com)
https://youtu.be/tRcPA7Fzebw YouTube David Bowie, Starman

SEASONAL SEMANTICS

I don’t understand

All the fuss

About Christmas semantics

Think of the holiday

A phenomenal time

For all religions

No matter the name

A time when people seem happier

Whether receiving

Or giving

Being together

Singing

Like long-ago pagans

Shivering in clammy caves

Unheated cottages

They knew

The shortest day

Heralded the return of the sun

And an easier life

With crops and colorful fields

A few months away

So those of you

Who want the Christ back in Christmas

Try to see

That it is a perfect holiday

Of love and peace

Whether navigating toy aisles in Walmart

Or baking secret-recipe cookies

For those we like

Or sharing smiles with strangers in Mickey D’s

Isn’t that Christ?

Isn’t he there?

Just stop and see

With tolerance

Don’t criticize

Don’t polarize

We all are sand

We are water and sunlight

We are invisible air

Life can be all right

Today I saw a homeless woman

Pushing her possessions

In a rusty shopping cart

A twist of red plastic poinsettia

Adorning the handle

She sees him too…

(c) 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Season’s Decorations

TRIANGULATION

 

Searching neighborhood grids
Spreading state-to-state
Sectors of the country
Braving mountainous runaway truck ramps
Trekking through petroglyphic canyons
Primeval swamps
Gazing at city cell towers
Pulsing out your locale
Never an intimation
Move on
Over continental shelves
Navigating in Babel-ese
But still
No sign
Move on
Until
Standing on a deserted plain
Observatory open to
Moonlit wind
Telescope probing the aethers
The faintest buzz
Emits
Through navy blue
And yellow, too
Across the sky table
Looking like spilled sugar
In spiral glory
Then I hear you
In our milky galaxy
The pulse
The sign
You are mine
As you signal
From a triangular prison
And we whisper
Loneliness, be gone…

(c) 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Milky Way, NASA