Romani

URSITORY (song-in-progress)

First saw the Ursutara*
When 3 days old
Cold night spider webs
Or dripping icicles
Over my basket
Gran setting a table for 3
Honey cake, tea
And in a broomstick drawn circle
Gran, Mama and me

Tell me a story
Of the three Ursitory
Living in Romani glory
Before morphing into allegory

3 creatures of Fate
Come to adjudicate
Lifeline to create
Each birth to celebrate

Sometimes I dream
Of that night supreme
As 3 moonbeams
Lit faces in fog-bound steam

Felt so enchanted
As each fairy implanted
Words that granted
My future garden planted

Said one: Listen my child
You are fated to be wild
And always beguiled
By a trying life reconciled

In the circle of safety
Me in a basket
3 tables with cakes
For the Ursitory Fates
Gran whispered my secret name
Viata

Said another: Listen my child
You are fated to be wild
And often reviled
Yet strong enough to survive the trial

“No” Gran recanted
But the third Fate ranted
Wanting to supplant it
With frightening cant

In a powerful scream
She stopped Gran’s scheme
The fate was extreme
No peace to redeem

No room for debate
Gran hid her hate
For this weaver of Fate
Surely a devil incarnate

There’d been no signatory
Just verbal and auditory
Surely an escape from momento mori
If they left the territory

The Ursitories departed
Gran tossed out the cake
Whispering a secret song
Taught me to move along
But all their words true
And some sleepless nights I hear them
Enchanted, chanting Fates
Pronouncing lives desolate
The Ursitory…

*Kalderash dialect

2019 BAXTALO NEVO BERSH (HAPPY NEW YEAR)

Seventy five degrees
Perfect temp to plant trees
Shoveled the sandy soil
Back ached a bit from the toil
Added an earthy mix
And water for a quick fix
Tuned the baritone
Strummed a song called “Moonstone”
Water ruled by the Moon
Quick growth would be a boon
Soon I’ll have a Norfolk Pine
I’ll baptize it with faux wine
My drink of choice for New Year’s Eve
While a tarot story I weave
Baxtalo Nevo Bersh we say
Luck and happiness on New Year’s Day
(and the coming year, of course!)

UNSETTLED PITCH

No more points or angles
Circles for me
Unity
Ouroboros
Me a Romani
Luck of the Gypsy
Depends on angle-less-ness
Exceptions?
Sweet music
Chiming around the universe
When strings overwhelm
Let my tribe
Drum the tambourine
Me a Romani
Percussing a triangle
Softly for the babies
Passionately for the men
Compassionately for the women
Mysteriously for me, a Romani
When accepting the
Jagged edges of life…

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

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

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

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…

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 22^nd). 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…

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

ROMANI PRAYER (WORLD WATER DAY MARCH 22^ND)

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…

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…

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!

IMAGE: My Poblano-Garbanzo Gulash

#18 SHON (MOON)

FROM MY FIRST POETRY BOOK MADAME SOSOSTRIS EXPLAINS

IN CELEBRATION OF THE SUPER MOON:

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!

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…

IMAGE: Four Drom Ek Romani cards

	poeturja on GENERATIONAL CURSES
	Steve Simpson on GENERATIONAL CURSES
	poeturja on MEMORY SPOONS
	poeturja on CRYSTAL DOG VIBRATIONS
	Steve Simpson on CRYSTAL DOG VIBRATIONS