writing

GRAVITY

 

Lying in bed

Dark night

Can’t arise

Only me

Nothing but human gravity

Preventing the bed

From flinging across

Time and space

 

Reaching for my notebook

And fine line gel pen

Ink leaking

Shaping words

Across the page

Once again

Trying to rise

Defying gravity

Resisting the flight

Into freedom

Forming the song

Not moving along

Settling on the lines

Of the somewhat sodden paper

 

Words disconnected

From my mind

Snaking across wrinkled pages

Resembling a poem

Seeking its soul mate

Music

And me

Merely

A human anchor…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: The Writers College Times

 

 

Work in progress for Blues unloved-song*

 

Bb7/ Shovel up the corpses

G9/ Of our forever lost love

Bb7/ Scatter tear-stained bones

G9/ For murders of crows

Bb7/ Picking treasure that’s Dm/ my end

 

Dig deep in the Earth

Where’s that underground spring

Bubbling, soothing dusty souls

Another promise killed in the drought

Of what passes for love

 

The stars, merely a phantasm

All dead many light years ago

Tarot Swords say, stay away

But only until the resolution

Surfaces clear as 20-20 vision

 

Lying in dying winter sun

Swamp beyond the fence

Full of bird activity

Perching Florida Black vultures

So wish they’re here for me…

 

© 2017 lyrics & chords Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: FL Black Vulture over my swamp

*Need to learn a few more Blues chords before finishing…

W-I-P FIRST BLUES SONG EVER FOR UKULELE #17

 

(fragment, need chorus)

 

Dm/Wanna crawl inside your Gm6/body

Dm/Crawl inside your A7/mind

F/Bask inside your Gm6/emotions

Bb7/Your sacred A7/spirit to Dm/find

 

Dm/Oh for our dark eyes to Gm6/meet

Dm/Oh to taste and finally A7/feel

F/life berry-pie Gm6/sweet

Bb7/Baby let’s A7/make it Dm/real

 

Dm/What are the magic words Gm6/I need

Dm/To make you part of A7/me

F/Just want you real and Gm6/solid

Bb7/Not some A7hell-sent Dm/fantasy

 

© 2017 Lyrics and chords Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: My tenor ukulele with red berries

If you decide to try playing this, please note that I use alternate chords for the following: 

Bb7 is really Db diminished or Bb diminished

F9 is really Eb6 (bar on 3rd)

G9 couldn’t find on internet chord charts

(used 1st fret string E and 2nd fret string C)

 

Originally a poem, then I chorded it, but not satisfied with the music.  Now that I’m teaching myself Blues Ukulele, thought it would be fun to use Blues chords!

 

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

No

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…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

Re: Drab Lil: A Gypsy’s Medicine Book © 2014

poetry atlas

poetryatlas.com is mapping the world using poetry. Here is a link to my poem River Ramble and photo of the ibis along the Pithlachascotee River. Please contact Poetry Atlas if you have written a poem about a place or if you like a famous poem about a place, anywhere in the world! http://www.poetryatlas.com/poet…/poem/4851/river-ramble.html 

 

 

 

WIP UKULELE SONG #16

F/Wanna crawl C/inside your Dm/body

Am/Crawl in  C/side your D/mind

F/Bask in C/side your Dm/emotions

Am/Your sacred C/spirit to D/find

 

CHORUS (in couplets)

 

C/Oh for our F/dark eyes to D/meet

C/life F/berry-pie D/sweet

C/Oh to taste F/and finally D/feel

D/Baby let’s F/make it C/real

 

F/What are the C/magic words Dm/I need

Am/To make you C/part of D/me

F/Just want you C/real and Dm/solid

Am/Not some C/hell-sent D/fantasy

 

(CHORUS?)

 (c) 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

Walmart in the morning, damp & rain in the afternoon, exaggerated dreams of composing but still, it’s a nice way to end the day! 

COLOSSAL COINCIDENCE?

 

Privately told

To you solely

Arcane instructions

Involving an

Idiosyncratic

Grimoire

Lost on a local airline

To my chagrin

A puerile flaunting

Appeared in print

Revealing the location

Of the long-sought scroll

Do you now feel manly

And in control?

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Lambenore Grimoire White Magic

THREE-IN-ONE

You ask the identity of my fantasy man

Hardly hesitating, I reply:

I am his canvas of fecund fields

Pierced by passionate suns

Van Gogh impressions of yellow and green

I am his guitar strings

Played by his tongue

Set on fire and worshiped

As only Hendrix’s music could careen

Along scales never before heard or seen

I am his epic poem of alliterative lines

That old Pagan Beowulf poet

Writer, reciter, loving me

Anonymously

These three

As one

Someday you will come…

woodstock_2-hendrix-playing-with-tongue

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

blickling-f141-beowulf-f173r

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