spirits

P’HABENGI RAT (HALLOWEEN) #1:

(re-post of last year’s poem for Halloween, Samhain, P’habengi rat or whatever you wish to call this end of the harvest, night of the souls.  I’m in search of candy corn today 🙂  )

 

When that thin gossamer veil

Between the worlds

Shreds impatiently

To let the alive and dead

Have their meet-and-greet

Be careful what you wish

Be aware of what you say

Trust no spirit if they be unknown

Dump salt from a neck pouch if tingly scalp

Light white candles if black ones flicker and flare

Carve smiley orange kirbiso

And fish-feed your inky cats

Unless

Unless you crave

(If you are brave)

Excitement that may turn into

Fear

Because the spirits are bored

Powerful and jealous

And they may overcome

Whatever you believe

Who has the control?

Not us, my fellow-living

We can train, memorize, pray

But spirits have that spectral power

A necromantic way with words and wands

No, we’re no match

Unless

Unless you are blessed

With wisdom and purity

And you know the runes to

The banish spell

Do I know them?

Will I share?

Perhaps if you give me your candy corn

I can be persuaded to bare my soul to you…

 

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: MzScarlett

SPIRITS AND SENIOR PROMS

 

(Humor lightens fearful actions)

 

Time to start communing

With the spirits

Family, friends

I’m not a Ouija person

It lied to me decades ago

Although

My friend really did

Meet and marry a Louis

But I never met Bruce

The New York lawyer

Did go to my senior prom

With a New Yorker

We fought

He wanted me to stop

Hanging at coffee houses

Screaming about war

And most of all

He hated my super-size

Peace earrings

Anyway

You know I’m getting old

Can’t seem to tell a succinct story

This is a poem

About Ouija boards

Spirits

Not proms

Pink gown

Hated pink

Mom got it on sale

Insisted I get my brunette hair

Teased and sprayed

Into an itchy pile

Atop my head

Radical chic

More fitting for my frizz

Not quite in yet

What’s with me

And the senior prom?

Okay, spirits

I’m old now

Wanna know

What’s doing in the

Dead Dimension

I’m getting cremated

Why would I want to

Waltz through paradise

In a five-foot frame

And have to keep my

Weight down

Using a heavenly elliptical

Into kingdom come?

So I’m willing to trade in my body

For something nicer

No one wants to try this

Handmade Ouija with me

All the way from the smallest continent

Overpaid

But don’t think I need money

Where I’m headed

Might as well spend it

So Lone Practitioner that I am

Will lightly place both hands

On the planchette

Dogs will be quiet

Because I’ve tryptophaned them out

With chicken jerky

(Ten dollars for 16 pieces!

WTH is wrong with Walmart?)

Yeah, ok

I’ll be damned

–I am, I know—

Draw a protective circle

Sit amid a bronze bowl of salt

Fake crystal bowl of water

Aromatic sandalwood in a resin holder

Elephant trunk to hold the incense

Supposed to be a good luck totem

Flickering white candle from Save-A-Lot

With a picture of a saint

The acrylic moves

Across hand etched wood

Spelling out ——-

Well, can’t tell you

But I asked respectfully

Asked for a kind soul to guide me

And halfway through

The answer

The essence flew

Not sure where

Relieved?

Somewhat

Will save it for another day…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

UNREAL WRAITH

 

I sometimes think you died in the hospital

And me, famous family denier

Cannot accept or just doesn’t know

That the heart attack was fatal

Drove you home from the hospital

Talked to you

But maybe I conjured you up

As I broke down

 

No physical contact

So don’t know if you’re a ghost

Would my hand penetrate your shape

If I reached out to touch?

Don’t really want to test my theory

We sometimes speak

Mostly, you’re a disappearing specter

Silently, suddenly appearing in a room

Sitting quietly

Staring at me

 

No one has seen you in years

Just me

So I question my fears

Are you real?

My shattered soul

Is taking longer to heal

I just don’t know

 

At night I hear a voice

Stream-of-consciousness

A clickety-clacking brain like mine

Leaping among the shoals of conception

Tumbling in the tides of ideas

Am I reading your mind,

Or do ghosts communicate like that?

Must I pick out the important parts

Of your manic communication

In order to gauge sanity?

 

I sometimes believe you survived

I sometimes believe I’m the one who died…

 

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Ghost (Mirror Online)

P’HABENGI RAT (HALLOWEEN) #1

 

When that thin gossamer veil

Between the worlds

Shreds impatiently

To let the alive and dead

Have their meet-and-greet

Be careful what you wish

Be aware of what you say

Trust no spirit if they be unknown

Dump salt from a neck pouch if tingly scalp

Light white candles if black ones flicker and flare

Carve smiley orange kirbiso

And fish-feed your inky cats

Unless

Unless you crave

(If you are brave)

Excitement that may turn into

Fear

Because the spirits are bored

Powerful and jealous

And they may overcome

Whatever you believe

Who has the control?

Not us, my fellow-living

We can train, memorize, pray

But spirits have that spectral power

A necromantic way with words and wands

No, we’re no match

Unless

Unless you are blessed

With wisdom and purity

And you know the runes to

The banish spell

Do I know them?

Will I share?

Perhaps if you give me your candy corn

I can be persuaded to bare my soul to you…

 

© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: MzScarlett