war

ANOTHER FAIRY TALE MIA

 

Moving away from the city that day

No longer able to tolerate cement suffocating the earth

Never seeing the universe’s nightly planetarium

Hiding out in the country

Ostriching my head

As the daily news counted the dead

Telling myself, I’m safe

But I know now it is the absolute end

Glass face of the moral compass

Shattered

If there was still a molecule of belief

In love and peace

It has been sucked into a

Bottomless vacuum

And nothing

Not a speck

Not an iota

Can ever be seen

No matter how strong the

Scanning electron microscope

Zaps

Seeking an image

Gone, all gone…

 

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: pollen molecules under scanning electron microscope

IRISH MYTHOLOGY WIP FRAGMENTS*

Women in woad

Shaking undressed breasts

Leading the warriors

Down Irish roads

Banshee-ing through the air

To cause enemies fear

O, to be with you

When war was for defense

Multi-married Maeve

“She Who Intoxicates”

Queen to Eochaid

Demanding a dowry paid

By a trinity of promises:

A husband who would be without

Fear, meanness and jealousy

Maeve, brave survivor of

Rape, war, and her own soul-sucking envy

Powerful woman or perhaps a goddess

Embodying the Sacred Marriage

Guaranteeing fertility

In a viridescent land

*Inspired by the work of Heather Awen

PLEASE SEE HER WORDPRESS SITE:

https://heatherawen.wordpress.com/pen-pals-political-pagan-lgbtq/

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Woad, ekmpowershop3

AN ARM AND A LEG

 

**scroll down for YouTube video**

 

Separated only by a belt

Japanese legendary war

Between the Taira family

As red as Betelgeuse

And the Minamoto family

As {blue-tinged} white as Rigel

Stars still battling

Orion’s belt

No-man’s land

A war

A constellation

A leg and an arm

Emblems of a mythos

Red and white

Like the Japanese flag

Symbolizing

Duty, sacrifice and loyalty

The Hunter a mighty sum

Of his parts

In the eternal aethers…

 

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Earth-Sky.com

 

YouTube: Orion by Metallica https://youtu.be/mmNpYwMpeJE

SOCIAL STRATIFICATION

WROTE THIS WITH A LOT OF ANGER. NOT SURE IF i AM ANY MORE PEACEFUL THAN THOSE I WROTE ABOUT…

What makes a war?

I get it when you say

Young men

And now young women

Should refuse to carry a gun

But that is victim-blaming

War is a social class problem

Poor youth, no job, no education

Join the service and the government

Pays for college, food, shelter

You get the magic beans for the price of your life

Mystery fans know

That murders are solved

By figuring out

Who benefits

Look at the many suspects:

Military-Industrial Complex

Super wealthy want war

Winning territory or oil

Politicians clamoring

For more

Reelection under the guise of patriotism

Most misunderstood word in the

English language

Bankers line their dragon-caves with gold

War enables merchants to become wealthier

Junk yard dealers selling rusted metal for weapons

Factories producing uniforms from fabrics

So-called food needed in cans and plastic packages

Benefits the huge farming conglomerates

Journalists who no longer report the truth

Ignoring the Double-Yous of

Who, What, Where, When, Why

Just talking, pretty faces of ignorance

Snapping soon-to-be photoshopped

Award-winning pictures of children

Blown to bits

But never lifting their voices to just say STOP

And the grieving goes on for

Spouses, partners, children

For aging grandparents and parents

Losing their babies to

Death, dismemberment or

Post-trauma hauntings of the mind

War is a class-thing

And as always

The lower class pays the highest

Retail price

Who is the enemy?

Most are like us

Wanting to shop on Ebay or Amazon

Wanting to rock out to current music

Wanting to love and laugh in nature

Caveat:

Don’t hate the Arabs

Don’t hate the Israelis

Don’t hate the Irish

Don’t hate the British

Don’t hate the Africans

Don’t hate the Hispanics

The victims are people like me

And you

Any more I tremble from

Lightning strikes in my back yard

House-shaking from thunder

But no way can I ever comprehend

A baby’s fear

As bombs explode

Interrupting their dreamy sleep

Waking, screaming

Because the boogie man isn’t

Hiding under the bed

Or in the closet

The boogie man is flying through the sky

Infiltrating to make them die

Physically, spiritually

So the survivors grow up

Losing their humanity

Whatever the current definition is

For that old-fashioned word

I look at my box of Sixties souvenirs

Peace necklaces that still retain

My sweat and tears

From my bleeding seventeen-year-old heart

ERA badge from the Eighties

Equal Rights Amendment

I campaigned for it

But women told me

They didn’t want to share a bathroom with men

Sound familiar, trans-gender people?

Homo sapiens

So unwise

TV has muddled the mind

That really needs to be nourished

Like a feed-the-masses sprout

Reaching toward the sun and rain

Instead of being blindingly

Dazzled by the beautiful and rich

Brainwashing the audience

Dictating what people should think

All geared to elevate those

Ruled by greed and gluttony

Go inward and contemplate what is really important in each precious life…

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: My peace jewelry worn when idealism existed

ANTITHESIS

 

Black holes on Earth

Sucking the light

Into permanent night

Portals to realms of horror

Evil’s way of gathering

Stray souls

Homeless, yet living in a house

Loveless, but part of a family

Poor, although paper and coin

Line the pockets of emptiness

Eons of fear

Beginning with the first sign of life

Biological imperative

Eat, reproduce, kill

Never let anyone take yours

Single-cells, fish, amphibians,

Reptiles, mammals

Interspersed with ferns,

Plants, trees and fungi

All obeying the call to survival

Can you believe that biological life

Actually evolved?

Physically, yes, but

The brain, the emotions, seem the same

How many of these black holes

Exist on Earth

I do believe

(And I’m not trying to deceive)

That negative power spots

Aligned along their own antithetical Ley Lines

Continue to increase

As we sleep

As we write songs of peace

As we begin to weep…

 

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Black Hole, NASA

 

KEEPING OUR KIDS DOWN (“Kinder, Kuche, Kirche”)

A disillusioned friend asked me to share this on my WordPress page. She wishes to remain anonymous:

Uncle Sam slept here

Uncle Sam

That horny man

Seducing young girls

Taking our Social Security

To pay for illegitimacy

The whole point of the women’s movement

Was to give our children

Male or female

A better life

But instead of accepting that

Women are as sexual as men

And deserve to have

Unstigmatized sex

With the understanding that

The goal was

Zero population growth

Meaning 2.2 children each

Instead of popping out babies

By girls, barely old enough to be called women

Because religion snarled through its ugly snout

No birth control!

It would shout

Just say no!

Yeah, sure

As if

As if hormones are not in control

Of every 13 year old’s brain

So Auntie Earth

Divorced Uncle Sam

(or whatever name he used globally)

Because he screwed around

And the population exponentially

Increased

Producing pollution and fracking

And ultimately more war

To get the oil for our car

War, killing and maiming our

Children

Both Male and Female

Producing homelessness and

More visits to bars

Or drugs prescribed

To take away the pain

To never see those war visions again

While girls at home

Living on charity

Should be breaking the glass ceilings

Instead of wishing

They were starring on reality TV

Like the Third Reich’s plan

To produce more human cannon fodder

“Kinder, Kuche, Kirche”

Children, Kitchen, Church

A world gone so off-kilter

But what do I know

A flowery old lady

Sorrowing for Auntie’s beautiful gifts

Now slick with oil and

Strangling on plastic bags

A vomiting Auntie Earth

(OMG! Is she pregnant too?)

Uncle Sam

Zip up your pants…

(c) 2016 ANONYMOUS

IMAGE: publicdomainpictures.net

 

APPLAUSE

gs pin

Clap if you believe in peace…

Like clapping for light and love

Flowers wilting in my gray hair

Discordant voice hoarsely flying through the air

Eyes closed against the news, I see me

Flag bearer in green uniform

Girl Scout 1950s Memorial Day parade

Dad earlier pointing out the remnants

Of Spanish American War survivors

There goes Mr. Gerwitz,

Smelly old man in Edwardian suit and tie

Now wearing a moth-eaten uniform

For a moment, I see him at eighteen

Striding along in the tropical heat

Determined to beat

The enemy

And end all war

Within six years

I will march again

Despite loved ones dying in Vietnam

I will scream against the war

My screams will join others

And we will save the world

I so believe

I clap because I believe in peace

And flying fairies

And Giant Killers

Who slayed the ogres

Ring Wraiths

Bad guys

To begin our Utopia

Clap if you, too, believe in peace

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

SACRED SIXTIES SONG: Phil Ochs’ “I Ain’t Marching Anymore”

(Another poem in celebration of Phil Ochs’ 75th birthday)

phil ochs i aint marching anymore

Phil’s voice echoing in my mind

As I learn to play

My new ukulele

Here are the chords

No riff, but couldn’t do justice

To the memorable, musical phrase

That always gave me chills when a teen

Listening to him on late-night weekend FM

No commercials in the sixties

Bought the album

Saw him countless times at folk festivals

And Philly coffee houses

Spoke to him twice

Well, in my ultra-shy way

Went through a period of

Perverting his song

As I tired from marching

Although it was to prevent the type of marching

Phil Ochs meant

Anti-war but also voting rights, Women’s Lib

War just kept coming

Voters got rights but stopped voting

Women didn’t want equality if it meant

Sharing a bathroom with men

In frustration I invoked the words of

Phil Ochs

Silently shouting:

“I Ain’t Marching Anymore”!

But got through that phase

An activist works for the common good

Not for the individuals who may pervert the act

So here I am

Almost a quarter of the way into

The twenty-first century

Voice scratchy

The pressing of frets slow

Giggling attitude toward my ineptitude

But playing and singing

Phil Ochs’ call to war

Against war

So here I am

Daring to replicate the sacred chords

Of I Ain’t Marching Anymore

What a high…

© Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

Here’s a Youtube link to the song:  https://youtu.be/gv1KEF8Uw2k

WAR NEVER FAR

flower-top-cannon-symbolizing-peace-hope-38473809

When sons were young

Sibling competition getting ugly

Decided to spend a separate hour with each

Worked well, they got to choose what to do

One day my youngest

Wanted to draw

He drew a cannon

I covered it with flowers

He drew a ball shooting out

A few lines by me made a peace sign

In frustration he cried,

“You’re ruining everything!”

***

Shocked, I stopped the politics

Didn’t do pregnancy and labor

So my sons would one day go off to war

In the too-near future

Although their grandpas, cousins, uncles

Fought in Germany, Vietnam and the Gulf

Yet such an innocent game

As drawing together

Turned into a 6-year-old’s anger

***

Tucked away that picture

Still have it in my book of memories

Placed a blank piece of paper between us

Drew a cannon with balls shooting out

Into the infinite

(Resisted adding a rainbow and stars)

He was happy, I was happy that he was happy

Someday he would make a personal decision

I would support whatever it would be

But will never forget my 60s bumper sticker:

“War is not good for children and other living things…”

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: CANNON OF PEACE, royalty free