poetry

OVERTIME

 

Twilight crows

Where will they go

In the last seconds before

Cobalt deepens into Navy

Cardinals and Woodpeckers

Tucked into vulnerable nests

But crows

Almost like postulant predators

Fly cawing across the twilit sky

Blurring the line

Bisecting nature’s decree

Of fair play for prey

Separating the day from the night shift

Crows on overtime

In a world where diminished habitat

Demands a late-night murder

Owls begin protesting

Hooting in my backyard

As I herd my little dogs inside

Because danger never sleeps…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: My sundown Live Oak

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

 

 

 

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

 

 

THROUGH A GLASS, AUTISTICALLY…

Woke up from a dream

Lifetime-long

A Blues-in-the night song

Relief, at first, remembering

And being re-diagnosed

Autistic

It all came back

The 80s therapist

Son is autistic

So are you

Not much info

Denial

Dream-time

About me

Would, of course,

Want to encourage him

Although I felt it was merely

Creativity

Now, now I accept

My uniqueness

Hah! Good synonym for loneliness

For being pelted

With rolling eyes

Impatient sighs

And me

Living in the dream

That I was just like you

And you

And you

But no

But no, not true

But no, please

No pity

No lies

I yawned and stretched

Got out of bed

And heard the truth

Inside my head

Where do I go from here…?

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: November Selfie

DARK RETURN

 

You came into my life

Last year

April to May

Then you were gone

After Mother’s Day

Now like an annual

Birthday gift

You appeared

Miraculously

Dark dove

Flying out of

A tall top hat

Landing on my

Salient breasts

Gently pecking at my

Lonely lips

Spreading your feathers

Chanting your spell

While my eyes seek

The magic wand

To combine you

With the shadowy man

But the month flies

And you follow

Again

On Mother’s Day

Gone

Flown away

You never stay

And I wonder

Are you a resurrection deity

Ruling the kingdom of my heart

For one short month

Go away

Do not stay

Above all, do not return

My fiery body

Can no longer withstand

The burning mystery of you…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Dove & Magician pinterest non-attributed

HEARTS OF PALM

 

Flaming flamingos

Content in their colonies

Monogamously settled

While I fly

To the edge of a swamp

Finding amongst riotous,

Deciduous trees

A lone palm

Said to conceal the cure

For a broken heart

Inside the bark

Sleeps a mystery

Magic elixir

Hearts of palms

Calling to me

Musically

Strip away the wood

Revealing vulnerable vegetation

Intent on the source

I miss the landing

At last look up

There you are

Smiling down at me

Musically

Singing

Share your heart

And I know it’s a start

For capturing

Elusive love…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Flamingos seeking solace in my swamp

NEVER DREAMED I’D CRY

 

*scroll down for YouTube video”

 

River mink babies

Peeking at me

Pedaling my Walmart bike

Down the Starkey trail

In pink and orange dawn

Does and fawns

Waiting to cross

As we whiz by

Windy freedom

Interrupted only

When the dreaded hill

Is reached

But finally breached

And legs pump pedals

While the Withlacoochee

Whispers nearby

Three more miles

Then water and rest

Among green scrub

Controlled campfires

Hot Florida dirt

Nature at her best

Not five miles from home

And now Starkey Park

In the drought

Over 2,000 acres burnt

50 percent contained

Echoing all the fire-themed music

And I hear

The Trammps sneer

At the fire

As they sing

“Burn that mother down”

And my tears fall

But there aren’t enough

To stop the raging…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Starkey Park nature trail

YouTube video https://youtu.be/A_sY2rjxq6M The Trammps

GRAVITY

 

Lying in bed

Dark night

Can’t arise

Only me

Nothing but human gravity

Preventing the bed

From flinging across

Time and space

 

Reaching for my notebook

And fine line gel pen

Ink leaking

Shaping words

Across the page

Once again

Trying to rise

Defying gravity

Resisting the flight

Into freedom

Forming the song

Not moving along

Settling on the lines

Of the somewhat sodden paper

 

Words disconnected

From my mind

Snaking across wrinkled pages

Resembling a poem

Seeking its soul mate

Music

And me

Merely

A human anchor…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: The Writers College Times

 

 

METABOLICALLY ALIVE

 

It’s like my body moved

Into a new neighborhood

Life has changed so much

Old friends gone

Family far away

New puppies

New situations

Only the birds look familiar

Moved so much these many decades

Should be used to starting over

Must remind myself

I’m a warrior

Living in the 8th continent

Senescent Land

Pangaea-less

No exploration ship

No way to cross back into

Familiar territory

Unlike Campbell’s Hero

The threshold crossing is blocked

Nothing left to do

But smile at the thought

Of a new adventure…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Marco Polo Exploration Ship