(another w-i-p for my upcoming book)

From where does your power emanate
Are you silent, thoughtful, or brash
What gives you the strength to continue
Love, anger, friendship, family
Yes, all of these bring power
But when we walk alone
Through sickness or anguish
Through grief or approaching death
Can you call upon your symbols
Mine are words and music
Plants and stone
These are tactile representations
Grounding me yet forming
A fortress of protection
No one can ever breach
A place to heal
So I can return
To those I treasure
In my quiet
But often solitary

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Berry Winter Among the Gargoyles




Crashed internet

Claustrophobic invasion

Panicking the psyche

Puzzling because

Not a chit-chatterer

Yet living in a hot tin box

Bearable by

Escaping into an electronic one

One that doesn’t dictate

What to watch, say, eat, or pray to

Life a click away

Until the day

Of apocalyptic crashing

Four horses riding in

With power over me:

Duke Electric

Frontier FIOS

US Government

Credit Union bank error

All gone

And then

Then the walls close in…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: news.discovery.com


What power have words

That they linger long after

The utterer dies?

Taking hold of a paper

Or a virtual page

Or grasping the very air

Like talons stuck in the fabric of

A collection of gases.

Since words echo through time

Curses must also

Even if the curser dies

Yet, if life changes for the better

Can it be? Did the curse expire too?

Or did we wander into a parallel universe?

Maybe we are really catatonic, in a padded cell

But living a fantasy life of love and perfection

Dreaming our microcosm?

The nature of reality

Is deplorably confusing

Perhaps that is why we should not be fearful

Should just follow our heart

Bravely do what we are meant to do

Toughen our skins and ASK for what we want

Do, and if it doesn’t work

Do again

Until it becomes a living dream.

(It doesn’t matter if you ask for something impossible

But try not to let it matter if you don’t get it)

© 2014 ViataMaja, Poezija