space

AS ABOVE SO BELOW

Vastness of the sky overwhelmed
So I chose a space between Live Oak leanings
Where branches did not arbor
Although reaching for each other
And like a laptop screen
I kept Orion and Corvus
Andromeda and the Pleiades
Within my scope

Above is named
The Starlite Ballroom
A magical space
Emanating the finest perfume
As we dance in flowing costumes
To musical bliss
Because as below
Is as above
But during the day
Water reveals the truth
Gaze along the rivers
See its reflection
As Above Ergo Below
Denial is where we
Slosh among our kind
An amorphous reflection of
What is above

A force of reality
Is not mirroring
And today and forever more
It sometimes seems
Disease and
Nature’s catastrophes
May merely be
Part of the reflection
If only we could truly see
All daily negativity
Dispersed
Perhaps, then, our gift
Would be
The reality
Of the Starlite Ballroom
Life’s Truth and Beauty…

© 2020 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Pithlachascotee River at James Grey Preserve

SERPENT-BEARER

Hubble Goes High Def to Revisit the Iconic 'Pillars of Creation'

Midnight south sky
Peering through mist and rain
Serpens Caput
Separated by Ophiuchus
The Serpent-Bearer
From Serpens Cauda
Severing gravitational pull
I drift to the 2nd Century
Imagining Ptolemy
Gazing at a pristine sky
On clear, Alexandrian nights
Naming three of the
88 constellations
That still seduce me
In this 21st Century
What were your dreams?
Did they extend past your
Actual titles of
Mathematician
Astronomer
Geographer
Astrologer
Did you compose music
Or paint
Or flirt with temple priestesses
Did you break the hearts
Of your poetic Muses?
Or did you crane your neck
Night after night
Seeing with your naked eye
But sadly missing a beauty
From lack of technology
The Hubble Telescope’s gift
Pillars of Creation
Part of that constellation
A colorful majesty
Unseen
But oh,
How you would have loved it
I suspect you’d have named it
The same as
Jean-Philippe Loys de Cheseaux
Swiss Astronomer
Who called the nursery for stars
The Eagle Nebula
But as I watch
Serpens Caput
Serpens Cauda
Who almost seem to be writhing around
Another serpent bearer
Asclepius
I am reminded of the caduceus
And take it as a sign
The healing time
Has come
For Earth and her children
And gravity
Once again restrains me
As I float down to the pre-dawn light
And know all will be all right…

© 2020 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGES: Ptolemy / Pillars of Creation / Serpent-Bearer Ophiuchus

Ptolemy

FOSSIL FAMILY FETE/FATE

 

Out of the box
I call home
Into the roofless yard
Where viney red flowers
Trumpet in full bloom
At the waning morning moon
While descendants of
Archaeopteryx
Mesozoically
Cretaceously
Humbling
By their evolutionary age
Hang out at the
Bird Buffet
All you can eat
For red and brown cardinals
Woodpeckers
And tufted tits and nuthatchers
While me, this descendant of
Cenozoic mammals
Neogene on an elliptical
Chirping along with the birds
But of course, using human words
Matching melodies and tones
Brain multi-tasking
While singing “Give me the beat boys”
Also hearing William Burroughs
Sucking his cigarette, intoning:
“Truth may appear only once
It may not be repeatable…”
Thinking of all this at sun’s rising light
First cup of coffee driving the pedals
Dreaming of the night sky
Lining up an armillary sphere
Imagination visiting
Countless constellations
Infinite rooftop to my little world…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: TRANSITIONAL & BARITONE WITH WILDFLOWERS

#21 THE WORLD

The World is so much more
Than Earth and the visible
Night sky
Telescopes and space cameras
Transport us to galaxies unknown
When tarot cards were first shown
Although there were always a few souls
Who knew what was out there in the vastness
Of space

THE WORLD is the archaeology of our past
Moving us through the present
And showing us the future
Symbols on cards mimic
Symbols of everyday life
Like the day I found an engraved coin
With my name and home address
Of a place I lived before age seven
Lying in the mud near a shed of broken crates
My past zoomed in and saw myself
Winning tickets for Skee Ball
To use on the mechanical engraver
In an Atlantic City arcade
Before casinos wrecked the ambience
Of ocean and sand and fries in a paper cone
Of cinnamon donuts and black coffee at midnight
From Mammy’s with my Gran

I rediscovered the coin
After finding a feather
That pointed the way
Very small feather
From a Florida Black Vulture
Stripping the flesh
From a corpse so fresh
And so here is my future
I thought
Death

To live in the now
Would be best
So I hauled out my tenor guitar
Music,the most beautiful part of
Anyone’s present
Although old songs transport us back
To the past
The words are seared in memory
Never to go
Always with us in the current phase

This trio reminds me
Of a wedding superstition:
Something old (coin)
Something new (guitar)
Something borrowed (feather)
Uh, oh, I’m blue
Because I
Always have
Always do
Always will
Need to find images of life
And force them into
Patterns
Patterns that ease the chaos
Of my world

And like the moon
We go through the stages
Circularly
As past, present, and future
Twirls like the Earth
Orbits the sun of our existence
And tilts with the seasons
The World
The tiny world that is ours
Our personal world of elation and sadness
Of terrible regrets but moments of gladness
We dream of space and vastness
But we are the microcosm
Like symbols imitating life
We mimic the macrocosm
Because the World is us…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGES: Arcade good luck medal, feather & guitar: zoom in to see my full name
and address on the coin/Photo of the arcade mechanical engraver

arcade stamped good luck coins machine SM PX

#7 CHARIOT (AURIGA)

ONE

Does Auriga
Charioteer constellation
Know that it carries
A precious cargo
A piece of our galaxy
On his nightly excursion
Across the star-lit sky?
Auriga is the
Anti-center
Opposite the center of
The Milky Way
You can see it
Even below 27 degrees longitude
Locate bright star Capella,
Part of Auriga, as he has
A friendly stand-off
With Cassiopeia
Greek goddess boasting
About her beauty
Don’t screw with sea nymphs
Especially those under the protection
Of Poseidon
You may know vain Cassiopeia
By her other name:
The Chained Woman
Forced to watch her daughter
Andromeda
Chained to a rock
As sacrifice for
Cetus the sea monster
But saved by Perseus
And they marry
Living happily ever after
Auriga, Charioteer
Like the tarot card
Represents
Forward motion
Travel
Careers
A mythic symbol
Associated with
Astrology’s Crab
Water sign in the sky
Yet suspiciously holding kids
Under Earthen Capricorn’s
Watchful, goat eye
TWO

But now
As if amateurs like me
Aren’t confused enough
The heart of the galaxy
Has been discovered
They think it is a black hole
Named Sagittarius A-star
Right near poor Cassiopeia
I mean,
What did those ancient Greeks expect
Women were vain
What else was there to do
But stare at their reflection
And pop out babies
Why demand punishment for vanity
There are a lot worse sins out there
So now a potential abyss
Sits just below
Cassiopeia
And what does that mean
For poor Auriga?
Will he halt the chariot
As he nears the heart
Or fall into
The black hole
Where no light
Will ever brighten
The galactic center
Of our universe?
So then, to me
The new discovery
Alters the tarot card meaning
Of lucky seven…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGES: Positions of Auriga and Cassiopeia/Center of Galaxy black hole
(Wikipedia and EarthSky)

(an example of Neurodiversity working in the night)

auriga & cassiopeia

#13 DEATH/TRANSITION

#13 DEATH (TRANSITION)

My mind’s Table of Elements
Contains merely four that matter
In my primitive, unscientific way
Folding them like dry laundry
One for each drawer

We swim in Water
Fly in Air
But Earth smothers
While Fire flays us to the bone
Do I prefer Air and Water
Because, interestingly,
Earth and Fire are the
Final bed for the dead
Unless one dies in mid-ocean
Or is lost in space
Then the body’s chucked out the hatch
To float unmatched
In silent darkness

Space is the cleanest
Space doesn’t eat you like
Sea creatures
Blazes or
Worms of the soil
Death is messy
That is why I
Call it “Transition”
Just a biological stage
To something better

Death comes to all
Jim Morrison said it best
“No one gets out of here alive”
If I have strength
And know my time of rest
Will rent storage space
And decorate with streamers
Also a sign saying
“A beautiful death”
My small elephant table
Holding bottles of juice
And music to encourage
Stiff family members
To let loose
My piddling possessions:
Dollar store container of Grimoires
One with self published books
Tarot cards and amulets
Junky wampum stored with much affection
Tiny boxes and spoon collections
With a prized key earned in mid life education
Despite being a writer
Will only have one sealed note for each

Yes, death is transition
Because surely our heart and brain
Our passion and spirit
Cannot fade
Leaving it all as the
Nihilists claim, a life with
No intrinsic meaning
No, that is
Not my philosophical leaning…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: #13 Death/Transition

#6 THE LOVERS (SONG-IN-PROGRESS)

Creative media
Forge an unproven friendship
Are we who we claim to be
In an unsung song
Or silent poetry?

She opened the door
Saw his perfect face
New galaxy beckoned
Glided into space

Flying to Io
On passionate wings
Moon of Jupiter
In a deep bass sings
While fiery volcanoes
Unendingly erupt
As atmosphere corrupts
A chance for relocation

But exploding music
Knits their hearts
We can, yeah, do it any day
Who can, yeah, guess it anyway
Love, oh no, hasn’t been kind
But she used to pretend, yeah
Like she didn’t mind

Surprisingly, he says, yeah
You are my soul
With you, yeah
Life will never be dull
You’re the hull but me
I’m the masts, the rigging
You, yeah
Keep me whole

And at last she’s a bride
No longer naked
Not necessary to hide
Though the grass so brown
New life blooms greenly fine
Flowering her crown
And he
Smilingly
Thinks: thanks!
She is mine!

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Gargoyles & Baritone Ukulele

OLBERS’ PARADOX

Despite innumerable stars
Why is the night sky
Not as bright as day?

Olbers’ Paradox
The Dark Night Sky
Finite or vast
Stars shine from the past

Astronomers say
The Big Bang is only
13.7 billion years old
Older universes exist
In distances only measurable
By Light Years
So if the universe expands
Other galaxy stars
Become concealed
Only those of the Milky Way
Our orbiting familiar wheel
Are visible

Is it enough to know
The Cosmic Web
Links all galaxies together?
We and the stars are
Embers of Fire
Eddies of Air
Droplets of Water
Nuggets of Dirt
Strongly woven
Never to be broken
Neighbors forever
Lineage unspoken…

“We are star stuff” –Carl Sagan

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Cosmic Web

12-14-15 @ 11:15 PM

Anyone see the Geminids this morning? This poem is from a few years ago when the sky was clear. Cloudy this year but still saw them shooting around, faintly, a few minutes ago!

Saw a fireball

Geminid meteor

Smashing through

The Eastern sky

Lasering Orion’s knife

Brightening the dullness of life

As the clouds cleared

And the breeze blew

Separating the trees

So I could see

Celestial beauty

In my backyard…

 

©2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: space.com

FOR MY DARLING DESCENDANTS

Star book and amulet
In this plastic box
For those nights
We need to dream
Our ancestors gazed above
Saw many of
The same stars we see
Did they dream, too
Most importantly, who
Was able to time travel
Take quantum leaps
Through fabled worm holes
Are we warned about black holes
Swallowing us whole
Like early explorers
Were warned about
Falling off the flat Earth
A time-honored way
To control
By those inside the
Moneyed walls
Against us the have-nots
But thinkers, all
Yes we are
So who really has the best
That life can offer
If you are reading this
A charm, a book, a song of freedom
Is yours
My darling descendants
Be bold
Let your mind search the aethers
Through dark and cold
Following the dim light
Of possibilities…

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: AMULET, BOOK & BARITONE UKULELE