Now I know why

Van Gogh

Did yellow

Dressed in black

Like the crows

I seek succor

From the sun

Or at least

Its result of



Planted by Corvus

As they compete

With the squirrels

Dodge my dogs

Dropping kernels

That sink into the rainy


And I try to remember

This darkness will pass

I will see yellow again

As my aura soaks in

The balance of

Magical spectrums of

Vibrant colors…


© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Music and Madness



Only bought one useless prize

Irresistible when the monitor holds

The entire world bazaar

Unfolding before my eyes

Beckoning me with its wares

One click and it’s mine

At least I succumbed to practicality

A twelve-pack of picks

I don’t use them

I strum with my thumb

But here are twelve miniature paintings

By Vince VG

So let’s see

Can use the Starry Night one

When playing Don McLean’s Vincent

Can use The Bedroom one

When playing Linda Ronstadt’s song

Since the answer to her question

When Will I Be Loved?

Is always “Never”

(That single bed tells it all)

Yes, I can see

Playing and singing with artwork

Between my fingers and thumb

Can be fun

For a day, anyway…

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)




Guess I do like

Star-crazed men

As long as they’re

Super smart


(That’s a social media buzz word)


So my artist crush is

Vincent Van Gogh

Many of us love him

He’s not the most realistic artist

But certainly owns a

Mysterious soul

Some say someone else

Cut off his ear

Over a woman

I personally don’t care

Enamored with him anyway


How nice to see

A modern artist

Who conceived a

Dating service

Of famous faces

He pairs two of my favorite portraits:


Although not drop-dead gorgeous

Next to Helen of Troy

La Giaconda

(The Joyful One)

The Mona Lisa

Is considered

An enigmatically beautiful woman

Some say DaVinci drew himself

In drag

They cite head and

Bone structure measurements

But I don’t see it

Not sure if that is the claim

Of proud gay commentators

Or homophobic ones

I personally don’t care


I do care why, though

Why do we often

Give our hearts

To those who were

So lost

Centuries ago

Why do we feel one with them

Is it the egotistical

Saviour complex

Like, if only Van Gogh

Had loved me

I would have cherished him

I would have saved him

Oh, Vincent

If only you were here


If only I was there

Rescue me…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Barry Kite, Aberrant Art

(Thanks to Lisa Rachael for posting pictures)



(scroll down for youtube video)


No, no, I’m not Don McLean

I certainly do not feel ashamed

As the music emanates from ukulele strings

I laugh in delight and then I sing

No, no, not his voice

Fingers clumsy but it’s my choice

Better to play a respectful pastiche

Than live in silence, longing leashed…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

Image: Starry Night Over the Rhone, Vincent Van Gogh


YouTube Video: Vincent, Don McLean


vangogh cafe terrace at night

When I think of you

I am on the cobbled terrace

Painted by Van Gogh

It is a starry night

And I sip the richest espresso


No matter that I am really

Sitting in Subway

Sipping diet cola

Cramming veggies and cheese

Back inside my dry-as-a-Painted Desert

White flour bun


Unable to finish

I throw it away

Walk outside

Find myself whispering to

The trash-picking crows

“Bring him to me!”

Might as well send out the

Flying Monkeys

For all the response

From the gathering of

The black-winged murders


Ah, Vincent

(If I may call you by your first name)

Here you were, on the Camargue

In Arles

Surrounded by beauty

That you faithfully interpreted

For generations of art appreciators

Yet your life was lonely, too

And no crows or fairy godmothers

Could bring your love to you


Painters and poets and players of instruments

Why isn’t nature’s beauty and

Relatively good physical health

Ever enough?

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)