happiness

8-17-20 MORNING

Most mornings
Jack-in-the-box
Out of bed
So sure today
Is the adventure
I’ve awaited
My entire life
Day wears on
But I do not despair
I’m aware
Tomorrow is another chance
For fame, fortune or romance
To fulfill my fanciful dreams

But now body and mind
Won’t let me find
The magic of life
Pandemics
Anarchy
Politics
Poverty
New label called
“Elderly”
Hide behind my smiling mask
In reality
I’m mentally
In a fetal position
On the floor
Clutching my blankey
Wishing it would all go away

So far it is temporary
Self-curing when
I stop reading the news
Play my concertina and ukulele
Write to friends and family
Spoil my dogs
Enter new worlds
Through games or books
And all is right with my world
The Magic returns
And I try to remember
That I am a connoisseur
Of alternate but happy
Life creations…

© 2020 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Pineapple Magic

CONVERSATION WITH MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS

Instruments want to be played
Whoever finds us worthy enough
To pluck our strings
Bang our heads
Push our keys
Will have love and loyalty
Forever
Don’t care what you do
To make others hear our voice
We’ll always reward you
With a feeling of peace
A comfort for all the
Terrible events in each life
Because everything is better
For all who play or sing
No matter your stage
A lovely synergy
Of attention and melody
After all, our music translates emotions
From your soul
As an invisible potion
To a lonely world…

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Some Happy Instruments

CHORDING THE BLUES

 

May sound like an oxymoron

To some of you guitarists

But here’s my new

Ukulele Blues songbook

And at long last

“St. James Infirmary”

Sounds like it should be

Heard Dave van Ronk do it for free

At Tompkins Square

And never forgot

Heard Odetta do

“Careless Love”

And here I am

Playing it too

Mucking my way

Via new music today

Brings a welcome discovery:

Playing the Blues

Chases them away…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

LIVING TALISMANS

 

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

Messy

Dirty

Dogs

So wise

Know

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)