Garden Girl

Garden Girl by Valerie Parente

Garden girl
the way she unfurled
took a long time
to fulfill her words.

Garden seeds
dirt on her knees
buried her sadness
with a thumb so green.

Garden rain
it’s just a mind-frame
we could be our gloom
or we could be its grace.

Garden growth
from hell she coped
decided to be resilient
in how she spoke.

There is always a choice
between wreckage and poise
she can’t control the weather
but she could control her voice.

The clouds rolled in
and the garden listened
come rain or tears
it does not know the difference.

– Valerie Parente (7-31-2021)

Moonchild Manifesto: A Poetry & Prose Collection by Valerie Parente AVAILABLE NOW

AVAILABLE HERE

Moonchild Manifesto by Valerie Parente is a body of work that documents the parallel between two acts: feeling a profound connection and making it your whole mood, and taking a topic and making it your artistic muse. There is a similarity between poetry and the spell we call love. A Moonchild is hyper-sensitive to this similarity and understands how it is equally enchanting as it is taxing. Divided into three moon phases, this poetry and prose collection follows the subconscious trajectory of The Hurt, The Heal, and The Hope.

Valerie Parente’s third poetry and prose collection manifested out of what she does best, mixing psychology, spirituality, and fantasy to make sense of her mental experiences as both a human being with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and a whimsically dark artist.

Divine Design

Divine Design by Valerie Parente

There’s no such thing as coincidence,
there has to be design,
because how can I find the perfect words,
that just so happen to rhyme?
You’re telling me poets are just lucky?
That language just so happens to coincide,
that there’s rhythm to the psyche,
that can be written in artistic lines,
that the material world naturally mirrors,
the effortless world inside my mind?
No, I don’t believe in luck,
I believe in the divine,
based on every one of your points,
used to describe otherwise.

– Valerie Parente (6-15-2021)

Nemesis (Not Me)

Nemesis (Not Me) by Valerie Parente

I’m finally happy
and my OCD still found me.
I see you in my dreams
with a tangible body
but when I go to defeat you
you’re the nemesis that continues
like a chain that keeps repeating
in a relationship so uneven.
I see you in so many forms
using my sweet slumber to return
and I punch, I kick, I scream
I wrestle to separate from the enemy
and I get oh so frantic
to justify my antics
begging the peers before my eyes
to understand that I’m the good guy
that I am separate from this disease
but then I wake up and it’s not a dream.
I still have this sickness on my skin
when I’m awake I’m still hallucinating
and it’s hard to believe I used to be afraid
convinced I’d be so lost without this charade
but now that I’m full grown I finally see
that this disease is nothing without me.
You’re just a sickness that attaches
used my puberty to take advantage
and I was far too young to understand
that your golden offer was a cruel scam.
How dare you stick yourself to me
even when my brain is asleep?
How dare you attack those I love
as if my entire psyche wasn’t enough?
And even though I’m so damn exhausted
by the nemesis in my subconscious
I’ve finally found my grace and solace
knowing I can manipulate you as an artist.

– Valerie Parente (6-13-2021)

Catharsis

Catharsis by Valerie Parente

When she asked “How do you deal with the toxicity of the public?”
I said “Write, write, write,
channel all your frustration in creation,
create, create, create,
channel all your energy into artistic placement,
paint words into memorable phrases,
find meaning in the oddest places,
make a collection of your lessons,
help the lost find their blessings,
the hardship will always get better,
and the wisdom goes on forever,
find your catharsis and give it away,
translate the world that lives in your brain,
be the God you want God to be,
and then you will find your peace.”

– Valerie Parente (6-7-2021)

Obsidian Dagger

Obsidian Dagger by Valerie Parente

If you think about messing with her
think again,
she’s got this obsidian dagger
in her right hand,
ready to cut you up
into a celestial blend,
fall out of touch
you’ll get the glossy edge,
a ritual of writing
ready to commence,
her way of fighting
a black glass weapon,
make no mistake
it’s all self defense,
for this ebony blade
she’ll never lament,
she takes a phrase
like a witch in a garden,
praising mental states
for the efflorescence,
dare you take her art
under a false pretense,
she’ll slice you apart
then wish you the best,
’cause she comes from stardust
the same place you’ve been,
but a language monarch
can bring you back to heaven,
she’s only just begun
so due and diligent,
with that silver on her tongue
and a dagger of obsidian.


– Valerie Parente (5-22-2021)

Value In Pain

Value In Pain by Valerie Parente

At the end of the day
you are only as valuable as your pain.
Anybody can do good when they feel good
but tell me what you gain
when you’re far from fine.
Do you learn from your broken heart?
Or do you let it deteriorate your mind?
Tell me what you create
when expression is the focal point
and everything else
is no more than background noise.

– Valerie Parente (4-21-2021)

Moonchild Manifesto

Moonchild Manifesto by Valerie Parente

You are a Moonchild.
You embody moods like phases in orbital rotations.
Every moving body comes in cycles
around a world you set your mind to.
That’s when the words begin to flow
like the tides under your gravitational pull.
You fall and you feel and you break,
wondering how others could be so unfazed.
Because you are in love night and day
while the rest are just lost in space.

– Valerie Parente (2-23-2021)

Graffiti

Graffiti by Valerie Parente

Like a graffiti artist
envisioning a new canvas
I saw the writing on the wall
and I was terrified me from the start.
Even though I love to paint my pain
I had never been more afraid
because I knew that space will never be pure again
I got something beautiful at a monumental expense.

– Valerie Parente (3-10-2021)

These Laurels Were Not Meant To Rest

These Laurels Were Not Meant To Rest by Valerie Parente

Imagine, imagine, imagine.
When the world is mundane
I give it my passion
another artistic era
to rise from the ashes.

Create, create, create.
People say I should be satisfied
but I need to formulate
an endless stream of words
from this mental landscape.

Another rhyme, another day,
another opportunity for artistic display.
These laurels were not meant to rest,
in this garden I’ll always progress,
so ever-evolving, so evergreen,
like the creativity that lives within me.

– Valerie Parente (2-26-2021)