(another full circle poem)

1990s bought my first computer
386 (Gigs? no one heard that word)
3.1 Windows
No internet but
Bulletin Boards to meet others
Bought to start a
Secretarial service
(Was I nervous!)
Never took off
The rest is computer history
But today I’m so distracted
Light and words refracted
When trying to write
So bought a NEO
Thirty US dollars
QWERTY keyboard
Well, right shift in wrong place
Makes my pinkie go adrift
On the keypad
Still, no distractions
No playing YouTube
No downloading guitar chords
No emailing or chatting
With Messenger friends
Whose little profile heads entice me
(Do you have that app, too?)
NEO takes three AA batteries
Has one USB port
Well, it is the 21st Century
But I can just WRITE!
Me and my mind
Lumbering through time
Great American Poem
Any day now!

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: NEO Alphasmart 2


Is there a spell for technology?
When digging a well
I use a water spell
When working with electricity
There’s a fine one for domesticity
When planting food
Mother Earth shows gratitude
In a windy storm
Words protect and reform
But how to appeal to technology
Working on a mysterious mythology
Hidden inside a magic box
Symbols coded in a paradox
While waving my magic stylus?

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Technology awaiting a spell



*scroll down for a YouTube video*

Darkness dangerous for women
For we who want to keep our souls
Out there alone
Nothing but our bodies
To pay for a room
And a few gallons of gas
To the next town
How to stay pure?
Starving always worked
As a money-saver for
Every hungry woman
No, we are no sexy
Midnight Rider
No dangerous outlaw persona
A guise for men only
Stay safe, women
For us, our song is
Not gonna let them catch
The Evening Hider
Stay safe and hide
When the sun begins to glide
Below the perspective point
Of the far horizon
Always the same
Whether Maiden, Mother or Crone
Aging the day we're born
Heading where?
Heaven, hell, oblivion?
Unknown to those
Who had faith shoved down the throat
Be a good girl and
You will be loved
Might as well be walking
Down a dark midnight alley
With no lantern
Waving bouquets of dollars
Teetering on designer knock-off stilettos
Skin hid in a bikini

Stay safe, women
Stay safe, all you women out there
Don't walk the streets at night
Use your last silver dollar
To buy the secret of beauty
Handful of mirror
Reflecting you
So be true to body and mind
And try to remember
Though it may not seem so now
And you'll not believe how
There is someone
Who loves you…

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Evening Hider

*YouTube video Allman Brothers Band, Midnight Rider




Wish you were a tablet

So I could press your chest

Where that stone heart lies

To hear the truth

When I ask if you love me


I’d use voice activation

Requesting you go to

You’d light up

And I’d say

Do you love me?


The answer would be

“Urban Legend” or

“Rumor” or

“False” or

Best of all



Then, no matter

The reply

I’d get on with my life

Whether I stayed or said goodbye


Rip the bandage off quickly

Tell me the truth

Always, because

I’m beginning to see

The beauty

Of Star Trek’s Borgs…



© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

Image: Tanga cyborg heart



Something lost

From olden days

When bards invoked

Their Muse

That one-only Muse

Almost always available

For the poet alone


Now, you tell me

“Your poem made me think

I will add the idea

To my work-in-progress”

I do that, too

Writing daily poetry

With many a Muse

To draw from


We are not

Monogamously Museful

We are the techno bards

Taking our—prompts?—

From all over the world

Thanks to the internet

We have a Muse a day

Or an hour

In many languages

And cultures


No more mirroring the Romantics

Ancient Greeks or

Those loyal writers using imagination

We read a word or two

On electronic screens

Touch them and

Feel the rush that signals



Ah my Muse

Maybe one day you will return

But in the interim

I have nearly seven billion

Other Muses

At the press of a button…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Luigi Cherubini and the Muse of Lyric Poetry – Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres