Written on the Airbus 5-22-19

*scroll down for a YouTube video

What is the color
Of turbulence?
Chakra madness
Takes root in the dirt

RED for danger
Oh, yeah
No protection
None at all
Except yawning, disturbing
Tympanic membranes
Blocking sound
Upchucking bag
Winks at me from the pouch
Of the forward seat
A cloud below
A pill swallowed
Just in case

ORANGE for emotions
WiFi in the sky
So I type my fears to
Friends via Messenger
Just want them to know
They’re on my mind

YELLOW for power
As we bump along I say,
“Be a warrior!”
Mantras 36,000 feet in the sky
What a way to say goodbye
But I do

GREEN for health
Oh, right, what kind
Am I thinking about?
Alive and well after landing
Would be better than diet and exercise
In this time and space

TURQUOISE for communication
“Ground Control To Major Tom”
You’re there, right?
Can you hear me…?

INDIGO for the third eye
Gosh and golly gee
I can see that
I am psychic
Because as I write
The pilot dings the warning
To sit and stay
Locked away
Under a flimsy seatbelt

VIOLET for spirituality
If we believe in heaven
We sure are near it now

My airsick pill takes effect
I yawn
Bouncing along
My pen feels heavy
I yawn
Turbulence fades away…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

*Space Oddity, David Bowie, YouTube



Survival of the fittest
Political temperatures dictate
Fight, flight, freeze
Been frozen for a few years
Chronologically too old for fight
Adrenal glands choose flight
Travel with jars of natural
Peanut butter and jelly
Crackers withstanding staleness
Jugs of water
Rolls of toilet paper for trips
Behind hedges
Baby wipes hygiene
Oh, why did I
Get rid of the travel trailer
Can I live on 4 wheels with 3 dogs
And a driver?

Icy dawn heading north
Wind whipping long hair
Through minute window cracks
Canine scent-sense tells me
When we pass salty or loamy aromas
The truck a speeding bullet
Of movement
Until yawning stars give way
To a cloudy dawn
Where have I gone?
Flying away to safety
Bicameral brain
Merely a strain
Logic says no safety in denial
Creativity says
Draw, write, sing SAFETY
Until it is real

The sky is falling
How do I make it right…?

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)



How small and helpless
The Eastern shores of
A super power country
Florida dangling
From the crotch of the nation
Flaccid and vulnerable
As the Sahara Desert winds
Ragingly produce
The African Easterly Jet
Spotting the Atlantic Ocean
Closer and closer
And I tremble in my
Tin shack of a mobile home
Wondering why I huddle
Year after year
A swampy prisoner
Of unbridled weather…

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Weather.gov hurricanes & tropical storms 9-11-18



Past memories

Break the barrier

Of approaching dawn

Can almost feel

And smell

The sweat of fear

Sometimes part of those days

Begone! I whisper

Searching for a talisman

In a brass bowl

On my bedside table

But my dogs

Those stubborn




So wise


And they surround me

Like the sick mother

From their litter

Keeping me warm

And when the sweat dissipates

They heave sighs of relief

Chasing tails

Digging too close to the garden

And generally rejoicing

As they hear the rattling of dog bones

Making the trip

From the box

To the salivating mouth

I am in their debt

And gladly pay…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)