Ways they may fail
Tomorrow’s borrowers
Via multi-withdrawals
Once again cruising through
The drive-through window
At the bank of time
Balance near depleted
Robotic voice
Vaguely sarcastic
Come again
Before the clock tower’s chime
Is no longer heard
By you…

(c) Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE Clock on Swamp Fence




Once upon
A cloudless morning
So like
A choir of angels
High soprano
Now stuck
Between the ranges
Not contralto
Not even
Frozen between
Desolated tones
Shuttered twilight
Discordant echo
Bruised and bloody time
Unable to heal
All wounds…

(c) 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)




Before age three

Not much of a memory

Then a new reality begins

As the theater of life


Years of tears and smiles

Love and rage

If blessed, then good health

If lucky, then material wealth

Ah, but entropic biology

States not much can last

All is supersonically fast

As we segue into

That third reality

Mirrors screaming

With altered faces

Losing family and friends

Unable to fill up empty spaces

And we want

We want so bad

To believe that deep down

People are honest

People are true

Especially people like me

Who don’t have a clue

About subterranean actuality

And we hang on

To the old reality

But we are wrong

The sands are slipping

Burying the hourglass base

Filling up with a reality

Devoid of grace

As we helplessly wonder

Who committed this crime

This ravaging by Time

And reality a lie

As we prepare to die

What was I thinking…?


© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Budapest Timewheel at night, Atlas Obscura




*scroll down for YouTube video*


An extra

Four and a half minutes

Revolutionizing music

Before that

Typical two minute songs

Good ones, so good

Motown, Beach Boys

Can’t Help Falling in Love

Even the most commercial protest songs

From a some-day peace prize winner

Are winding down

And the times they are a changing

Because the generation is demanding

And history is made

In a car tuned to AM radio

And here’s a song

On and on

Over six minutes



Hey Jude…

Teen in Nehru mini

He driving in Nehru shirt

Just out of the Army

Germany, not Nam

How’d he get so lucky

And the na-na’s go on

The guitars and drums

Voices and song

In the latest evolution

Of cruising music

And decades later

As that teen-turned-old-lady

Pedals on her elliptical

Singing to sunny skies

Ignoring the feeling

That youth was full of lies

About the future

Because the music remained true

A wormhole to wander through

Hey, Jude…


© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

The Beatles, Hey Jude




(my annual daylight savings time poem)


Waking with Ben Franklin’s

“A penny saved is a penny earned”

Rattling around the brain

For an exciting hero of mine

He could be thriftily boring

And then

In 1784

He wrote an essay

For the French

“An Economical Project for Diminishing the Cost of Light”

Essentially, how to save on candles

By changing the clocks

Love Ben Franklin

I’m a Philadelphian

What an inventor




But come on

Time is so personal…


Woke up

Forgetting to spring forward my clocks

But Bill Gates did it on my computer

T-Mobile took care of my phone

Never wear my Janis Joplin watch anymore

But the microwave refused to change

And the light outside is wrong

Long, long hot days in Florida are coming

We need less daylight here


The scary thing is

I am so sure

That something magical happened

At the real two in the morning

The hour that no longer is

Surely contained

The secret of life

Or magical herbal cure

Or a song of such beauty

That so-called angels

(Ukulele-wielding ones)

Could never eclipse

Think of all the children born

Whose Rising Sign

Based on hour of birth

Will be wrong


I want that hour back

I’m sick of statesmen

Screwing with my life

Including all important time

As always, I follow my dogs

They remain true

To their biological clock

Dining by celestial clues

Einstein said it best:

“Time is an illusion”

So don’t ring my phone

When your time says 7 a.m.

I’m forever on Eastern Standard Time

Drifting in an early-morning dream…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja), Miniature Worlds Sublime



*scroll down for a YouTube video*

Earth pirouettes me past the sun

Innumerable orbits, yet the ballet’s not done

Seems merely an hour dancing on toes

Orchestra adagio-ing as my body flows

Time a frail leaf the winds once blew

Grim Reaper leads me in a pas de deux

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Darcey Bussell & Zoltan Solymosi in Black Swan pas de deux

https://youtu.be/VtEQ-BnNNl8 YouTube Swan Lake pas de deux



Linear calendar

Creates nice little squares

Of days and years

This follows that

Circularity makes more sense

Yet even astrology

Has Aries as the first sign

So the days and years

Seem to differently appear

But they might as well be

Lined up in nice little squares too

What can we do

To avoid the inexorable tolling

Of time

Yearly seasons keep count

As we move around the sun

The moon phases rigidly

Orbit the Earth

Drum beats of time

Calculated in sidereal months

Would there be true chaos

If we banned time?

How would we know

The time to go

To school, work, or that all-encompassing word:


We are too wired to wait

For doctors, hair dressers, massage therapists

Without an appointment

Time is wasted

I don’t like time

Just another way

To legislate lives

I want us to live laid back

I want night people to work in the night

Dawn people to do their thing

Before birds are on the wing

Poets to write celestially in the dark

I don’t like time

But the calendar says

I must wish you all

Happy New Year

But I swear

And resolve

No more calendars for me

Anyone agree?


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: duna.budapest.hu


Repost from May 2015


The past allows for re-entry

It is never the same as the first time

Yet it remains impossible to change

Nudging open the door, entering a bygone time

We move about the silent scene

Merely unwanted apparitions

Why do we return?

Why can we not let some things fade?

Some memories are not worth saving

But they push through like

Horror corpses in cemeteries

Zombies of time demanding to be fed

Wish I could live in the now

But the now is made up of the then

And the future obscenely awaits us…

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens  (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: St. Mark’s Square, Venice, Astrological Clock



My bio teacher once pointed out

While we studied the Reproductive System

That the fetus resembled

Many of the evolutionary stages

Single cell, fish, amphibian, etc.

Known as the

“Recapitulation Theory”

It is still considered plausible

But largely discredited by

Religious fundamentalists


Aging is full-circle

In that we return to being

A giant infant

By the time Time does its thing to us

Loss of hair, teeth and teetering walk

In some cases talk

As in senility nonsense syllables


For some, we become

Frankenstein monsters

But instead of human parts

We resemble the beasts:

Turkey wattle

Bat wing arms

Camel hump

And a duck’s big butt waddle

O, can’t bear to continue


The Media parades Centenarians

To reassure us that we can

Keep living one more year

We see them posing in their rocking chairs

Claiming yogurt or even smoking

Is the secret to longevity

I say it’s DNA

If you want me to feel better about aging

Showing me one-hundred-year-olds

Born in 1920

Then let them be

Do-whack-a-do-ing a Charleston

Or show me Oracles of wisdom

Pontificating on how to survive stress

Unhappiness, loneliness


Swore I’d forget about aging

I should be grateful

Should be folking out on my ukulele

Intended to learn how to read music

How to finger pick instead of strum

But words are my lover

They come, come, come

So I mostly write, um, I mean, rant…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Haeckel drawings of the Recapitulation Theory