*scroll down for a Tom Petty video*

Entwined in DNA

Dreams refusing to die

Whether for




We will grow legs

And crawl out of the muck

We will align with the greenery

And face the sun

We will rev up the engine

And drive forevermore


Physical or mental

Brings us to the border

O, we must refuse to

Hover between fantasy

And the real


Those who dig the deepest

Wresting the treasure chest

From the Earth’s grasp

Those who claim the prize

Will inherit the future

The priciest double helix

To pass along

Singing the sacred song

Of a life well won…

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: My son B. Michael’s car

https://youtu.be/Qv4-m-cIZf4 YouTube video Running Down a Dream (Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers)



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





Blood origin stains

Bucharest to Budapest corridor

I, a dusky cocktail shaker of Romani

Transylvanian Dragon

And a hint of Hun

Jewelry of choice

Pungent garlic garlands

Neckerchief hiding vulnerable spots

Wild wolves leaping

Through unshuttered windows

Where babies in baskets

Dream on the cold wood stove

Mother rarely sleeping

Until children of age

To self-protect

All those years

You stood outside

Waiting for me to be

Old enough for you

And I knew

How wrong

How good

Your lips felt

Secret bruise throbbing

Under my fringed shawl

Skin growing paler with each taste

Then one night

Unspeakable delight

Lying on icy stone

Never to return home

Eternal bliss with you…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Budapest abandoned house (FB post)



(Mahaffey Theater 5-2-16)

*Scroll down for video*



In a perverse time and place

DNA sings to me

In crystal-breaking tones:

Find the forest

Where your people camped

Among the trees

Guitars and violins

And percussive seas

Remember the dance

Slow movement among embers

All to the backdrop of music

Inhaled, with the smoke,

Then released

With the vanishing of pain…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)