Am/ Is it our destiny to always be Em/ apart
Am/ Mending fragments of an empty Em/ heart
Dm/ Will we suffer, unable to Em/ touch
Dm/ Love and truth not meaning Em/ much
Am/ Why no gazing in each other’s Em/ eyes
Am/ Why no chance to weave faithful Em/ ties




A/ Never, never must we sever
G/ Esoteric linkings of us forever


Am/ Perhaps we’ll meet in a cold,dark Em/ place
Am/ Celestial bodies reflecting from each Em/ face
Dm/ Silver astral chords tethered to Em/ Earth
Dm/ Experiencing a long-awaited spiritual Em/ rebirth
Am/ Celebrating the moment we finally Em/ meet
Am/ Discarding the sadness of being Em/ incomplete




A/ Never, never must we sever
G/ Esoteric linkings of us forever


(c) 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
Baritone Ukulele D, G, B, E



Waving a burning bundle of sage

Sweetening the mysterious corners

Of a lonely room

(Like a priest swinging an incense censer)


Humming along with Indigenous drumming

Interspersed with Om Mani Padme Hum mantras

Blasting from the MP3 headphones

(Like a monk’s voice lifting up to the heavens in a Gregorian chant)


Sipping wine and delicately crunching crackers

At an evening art opening, smiling

As the mind screams, “Shut up! Shut up!

You’re superficial and snobby!”

(Like a penitent accepting the blood and the body)


Religious Rituals

Nature Rituals

Social Rituals


Keeping those invasive mind demons away

Trying to get through another day…


© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)




No matter where in the world you were

I always felt your life force

Now it’s fading

I try to hold on


But no

The cord/chord connecting us

Now severed in the cold moonlit night

My wish

Although we will never be together

Is that you are not gone from this life

That you are

Still directing that force

Even if the heat is for someone else…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens

IMAGE: sutratma silver cord



In sudden silence

Three-note melody

Cymbals, jingle-jangles

No matter the name:

Zils, cimbali, trastine

From a churo, tambourine

Sound so crisp and clear

Can hear the shiny pieces

Clicking together

Although the song it presages

Is unknown

Previous empirical study

(This has happened before)

Tells me it means a message

Mom played her hands, clapped to music

Gran played piano and harmonica

Great-Gran had no time for music

Early widow working to feed

Eight children

Somewhere way back

Somewhere in the gene pool

Somewhere in the family tree

A kind Phuri Dai spirit

Loves me

And once again signals

Through a medium we both savor

The arrival of fortunate times

Oh, let it be

Because my coming trip

Is worrying me

Surely the brief music means

There, there, all will be well…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: My Drom Romani symbols tambourine



Wrote this in 1992–after a 3-year spiritual quest–about part of the “secret” name my Gran gave me (her secret name must have been The Jokester):  ViataMaja (Life’s Illusion)


Quatrain:  Rhyme Scheme ABBA “envelope” iambic trimeter


I’ve stripped away the veil


I fear what it may mean

But I’m on the right trail


It betokens lost hope

For future happiness

The thought does not depress

Most days I seem to cope


If all is illusion

And I finally see

Why do I want to flee

Back to the confusion


Nirvana is promised

When Maja is revealed

Truth is now unconcealed

I’ve become a realist


Perhaps that’s the reward

Seeing life cold and stark

Yet hearing in the dark

A sad but lovely chord


© 1992 & 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: My Number 10 Drom Ek Romani card: Strip Away the Maja



She shines,she gleams,this lady kind, filling lost men”s dreams
watching from her ivory tower as the winds drown out their screams
she knows her light shines on them bright,hidden in the night
she knows her mantras, knows her spells,knows their souls by sight

She grieves at this,she thieves with this,she knows by intuitions
she mourns her lost, her hidden costs,behind her dark sky smiles
she”s careful to with her witches brews, her cauldron filled with guile she”s beyond her words, her bonds,her lusts. Magic bows to style

Her druids watch,their nights long lost,for this is when she rules
when hunters hunt,and killers stalk, and timelessness is cruel
what can they do, how do they move,they must protect their queen
they stay awake when others sleep, lost in their serene dreams

The Romans came,to conquer all,they ruled their known world
their latin tounge,spoke words to none,just orders made for rule
they had no choice, cloaked druids walked,under a different moon
when once they danced,uncloaked by chance,to a different tune

Their kingdom lost, usurped by choice,they watch her from afar
this killing moon,spun by Kindly Ones,from their lives was barred
when once they danced,under her light,leaving all to chance
now they sit, so silently,and never more will they once dance

They blame her not, they know her cost, they suffer in her light
It”s neither right, it”s neither wrong,it”s just their endless plight
she shines above, she rides the winds, the stars shine in her hair
below her druid sits in the dark, his life once full, now bare.

(c) 2016 Gary Smith