(true story/too much imagination or too much Dr. Who, I think)

“If we get east Russia we’re in trouble”
Says a cryptic text message
When I awaken at midnight to pee
What does it mean, this line from an unknown phone number?
If selected, will it open the doors to a rampant virus?
Tossing until dawn
Dreaming of new cold war uniforms
Accidentally sending this important message to me
I once again pee as the dogs enjoin me
To take them into the dark yard
Clutching the phone, flashlight competing
With the Moon phase of the Crone
Repeating the words and trying not to moan
I judge them to be a sinister prelude to
Nuclear war
Who can I forward the text to?
Then I hear a helicopter
Black against a bleeding red sky
“Dogs, come!” I cry
And I cower inside while the dogs
In their apolitical ignorance
Lick my fingers for food
And finally I click into the text
Because ignorance is never really bliss
And blurry morning eyes
Read the message
Just as I feared
Surely encrypted
Disguised as a comment
About weather…

(c) 2019 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Black Helicopters, Wikipedia


Swore I’d age gracefully
No hair dye, no cosmetic surgery
(to pay, would have to commit burglary)
So ok, cheated a bit
Black to look thinner
Sunglasses for misdirection
standing back when the
*!$&%#@ camera lens
Zooms in compassionlessly
Now is the time, I say
No more images to post
Where were phone cameras when
I was young and unlined
Always unlucky on the space time
Continuum of life
Emulating Frankenstein, Jekyll
And Dorian Gray
I fashioned an alter ego
Pumpkin Clarissa
Thin, unwrinkled and
Tall (well, taller than me)
Perfect tenor guitar player
Worthy of Hendrix
(Use your imagination)
Man, I love me!
I mean her!
Different mask each holiday
Wish I could download my brain
Well, all right
That’s a bit vain
If only I could figure out
How to animate her
Where’s the lightning
When I need it?

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Pumpkin Clarissa rocking out



*scroll down for a YouTube video*


Still have a fever today

Went out into the blinding light

So all right,

Caught a glimpse of myself

In the sliding glass door

Sun glaring

Me in every-day black

And honestly,

Thought it was Ozzy Osbourne

Well, ok

His hair is straighter than mine’

And, yeah, his hair was black

Mine was too once upon a time

But still

If someone tossed a bat–

Well, no

Don’t fill in the blanks

I’m vegetarian…


© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)


Don’t worry, I just go mad when I’m flu-ish and can’t do what I want (nothing serious) Maybe I should stop overdosing on home remedies such as cayenne pepper, lemon & honey

Here’s Ozzy’s Diary of a Madman



(may chord this as a silly song although it’s true. I was a lefty for five years, then mother and teacher changed me to right so I get everything backwards—including directions–consistently)


I’m not your roadie

I won’t change your strings

I’ll kiss and make love

Physical passion I’ll bring


But the ukulele’s yours

To have and to hold

No one is truer

So treat it like gold


Get your fingers working

Don’t fear the part

Stretch that nylon tight

Then strum from the heart


I’m not your roadie

I’m here to be your love

Learn to keep us separate

Your instrument above


Nothing can be truer

Than the melody you play

The ukulele is faithful

Will never run away


So don’t have anxiety

When trying to adjust

You really can’t hurt it

In yourself, well, just trust


Oh, yes, you did it

Strings new and tight

Silver moon smiles in the window

As you play throughout the night…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)






(scroll down for a YouTube video)


Those three o’clock in the morning barks

Of moon-struck dogs wanting to be out

I Jump from the bed but age will tell

Walking like a chimp, hurts like hell

As four canines race around the darkened swamp

I slowly get my spine aligned


But why oh why at this hour, with a silvery sky above

Do I think of Oedipus (before or after being a Rex?)

Yes, somehow there is now meaning in the Riddle of the Sphinx

Who devoured all travelers unable to answer:

“Which creature has one voice

And yet becomes four-footed and two-footed and three-footed?”

Only Oedipus, he who blinds himself

And supplies a buzz word to Freud in later years,

Answers:  “Man—who crawls on all fours as a baby

Then walks on two feet as an adult

And then uses a walking stick in old age”


I myself would rather walk like an Egyptian

Yeah, I know, it has silly lyrics

Maybe a bit politically incorrect

But I do love the Bangles song

And if I’m starting to move in a creaky fashion

I just want to look cute while I do it…  Bangles “Walk Like An Egyptian”


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)



Two weeks gone, still packed

Unpack already!



Might as well leave clothes

And stuff

In my backpack


Colorful luggage tags

I-D-ing me

In case I become a body

Floating around the swamp

Hurricane season ends

The thirtieth of November

Maybe I’ll unpack then


*Girl Scouts of America Motto (they prepped me a little too good)


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)



Okay, I’m childish, but I really dislike trolls (or maybe rude know-it-alls). So I wrote this Amazon review for my newest songbook in protest to another reviewer’s put-down.  It turned into a poem, then I got carried away and added in Beach Boy titles.  Not my greatest work but here it is, for your morning smile (I hope):

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars PROUD TO BE A “CAMPFIRE” UKULELE-IST, June 3, 2016
Verified Purchase(What’s this?)
This review is from: The Beach Boys For Ukulele (Paperback)
A troll or just rude, reviewed this songbook, sneering at chorders, so I took a look. How lucky am I that ukulele chords are in? I can’t read music, is that such a sin? He called us some names (we’re the “campfire crowd”), we strum our babies, we’re all so proud. How lucky am I to have taught myself to play! Having fun, fun, fun even though he says nay! This book is perfect for advanced or new. Don’t worry baby, just play, and remember, to your school be true. God only knows how hard we newbies go. I hide out in my room, wishing to be in Kokomo. If you want a challenge rewrite the musical translation. But I’ll stick with the original because I feel those good vibrations!




(scroll down for YouTube video)


Fantasy’s evolution

On the borderland

Between real and not

Wanted so to write


Find my words stilted

Online friend offered to help

Wow!  What a teacher

Like being in class

Creative Erotica 101

Internet makes it

So easy to meet

No longer using

Bathroom walls

(For a good time call 867-5309)

No, just sext me

Send me photos

Or not

But get me hot

With your words

Imaginary images

(For a good time write

But anything you say

Will be used against you

In an erotica poem…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

YouTube video Tommy Tutone 867-5309 Jenny