HALLOWEEN

Blessed be the human faces

Beauty the same ‘til age disgraces

The body may be fully good

Based on mood defining amounts of food

But Halloween disguises with a mask

A fun and always simple task

A chance to be something new

Tricks and treats for me and you

Maybe a bit tricky

Working off chocolate’s sticky

Tho’ it’s the best one-night-stand…

 

© Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE:  Halloween Candy

 

 

NO REAL CHANGES (Revised)

 

Been up and down city streets

On a horse whose name I forgot

Been through the Painted Desert

On a mule playing crazy games

But always knew who I am

Tagged Seeker, Wanderer

Loving aloneness but often

Regretting being lonely

Because after all,

No one can really help us

Live or die

In a blink of an eye

We are 3 and then

70 years speed by

But we are still the same

Still wanting that guy we can’t have

Still trying to stay thin by

Ignoring the chocolate cream pie

Still dancing on the treadmill

To old rock and roll

Our essence is still the same

Only the shell has changed…

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© 2021, 2025 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: CS age 3

 

 

 

TEA & PERSIAN ART HISTORY:

WADING THROUGH TIME

 

(BASED ON THE PAINTING

“WOMEN AROUND A SAMOVAR”

BY ISMA’IL JALAYIR 1860-75)

 

Last week I time-traveled

But my memory faded almost instantly

I remember drinking tea and

Having my fortune read by tasseomancy

It was the 1860s

One hundred years before

I would break out of

Shyness and autism

Becoming a radical hippie

Forgive the digression, dear reader

Maybe I should start

With my love of Persian art

When a friend sent me a painting

By Isma’il Jalayir

Women Around a Samovar

(Popular name according to

The Victoria and Albert Museum)

I do love samovars

And Gran taught me how to read

Tea Leaves

So I gazed at the amazing women

In their long dresses

But on the left is one

Wearing a short skirt

And I think

How can this be?

Who is she?

Reminiscent of me

Dark, curly hair

Not pretty but a certain ancient beauty

And I wonder if she is an ancestor

Triggering genetic memory

Then I notice

All the women are dressed oddly

An alternate title of the painting is

Women Dancing Around A Samovar

And one writer feels they are a harem

Perhaps being entertained by a ballet troop

I look for a tasseomancer

Reading their leaves

I move among them,

Invisible,

In my time machine

Here is one with a pipe

And the aroma of cherry wood

Drifts among the bamboo bouquet

Of Lapsang Souchong

One of my favorites

I look at the women

Who strangely seem wooden

And find myself trying

To become visible to the one

In the blue skirt

Perhaps she was descended from family

When India exiled the Roma

In the 11^th Century

Is she a great, great, great aunt of mine?

The Romani diaspora

Carried families to all parts of Asia and Europe

Perhaps she was from a family

Of tea leaf readers

Or

Part of the harem

Once captured by the Ottomans

While they warred with Vlad the Impaler

In the wilds of Roumania and Hungary

Birthplace of my father

I get as close as possible

Sniffing her cup of tea

As she drinks rapidly

Wanting to hear her future

Or impart one to others

But then the darkness swirls

And the 21^st Century

Drags me back

And I am left with the painting

On my computer screen

So I brew a cup of

Bamboo-laden

Russian Caravan Tea

To see

Where the Time machine

Will next carry me…

 

© 2025 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE Women Around A Samovar By Isma’il Jalayir 1860-75)

 

 

 

CROW GLASS MIRROR (WITHOUT UKULELE CHORDS)

 

“Take your broken heart. make it into art”–Carrie Fisher

 

Swamp perimeter
Sun sets it a’glitter
Feeling distressed
Yes, abandoned nest

Lying on grass
Just shiny crow glass
Black feather nearby
Where’d they fly

Neaten up their home
So want to roam
Been quite a night
I’m ready to take flight

Lay down my shawl
Back against a tree wall
Take out the pieces
Pile of glass increases

Like a kid’s jigsaw
To the tune of a distant caw
They form a circle
And then a skull

A fully formed mirror
Couldn’t be clearer
I see my cracked face
Safe in a hiding place

Message from a crow
Definitely time to go
Glass back in the nest
Feeling less distressed

Final possession in the trunk
I still have lots of spunk
Foot on the gas pedal
I tried, I deserve a medal

Driving through the night
Finally taking flight
Smiling at the crow’s gift
I once again drift

New art, new life…

 

(c) 2020, 2025 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: CROW ON MY BIRD FEEDER 2025