Beg A Question (The Royal Harpy & The Lunar Druid)

Beg A Question (The Royal Harpy & The Lunar Druid) by Valerie Parente

The royal harpy’s sickness
has always been her muse
and that’s precisely why this princess
couldn’t differentiate from the two.

On a night of pure stillness
she captured the druid of the moon
she took him as her witness
and begged him for the truth.

“Surely it’s your business,
and I will not be made a fool,
tell me, am I my condition
or is my condition just a ruse?”

The lunar druid was oddly smitten
remembering all the princess had been through
a young harpy tormented by children
so he posed a question too.

“Did they bully you for your condition?
Or was this your condition because they bullied you?”
“I’m not sure I know the difference,”
the princess whispered so confused.

That druid of the moon simply listened
as he heard all he needed to
and as his emerald eyes glistened
he whispered, “That is your proof.”

– Valerie Parente (7-30-2021)

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.

The Harpy At Curtain Call

The Harpy At Curtain Call by Valerie Parente

She’s got violet wings
claws for scratching
getting under your skin
with her keen language
a harpy at curtail call
a village so appalled
jet black eyes in a stupor
no irises, all pupils
absorbing all of the light
scanning the horizon for flight
so formidable to the townsfolk
like the creeper when exposed
and right before she takes off
she prays to the dawn
because she has so much fear
when the night inches near
because it’s easier to see the horizon
when the light is there for guiding
and she has so much faith
at the beginning of the day.

– Valerie Parente (6-13-2021)

Jackalope

Jackalope by Valerie Parente

You’re just a mythical thing
a hybrid through taxidermy
jackrabbit ears
antlers that pierce
formulated after death
a concept used to make sense
of the world we don’t know
my dear jackalope.

You’re just a mythical thing
you screwed me up that morning
that’s why I’m a creature of the night
but that pain will not define
the way you broke me down
so broken but whole now
a fusion of my dual states
dark and light in the same place.

You’re just a mythical thing
two real entities mixing
to make one hell of a tall tale
and my mind went off the rails
a little truth behind the love
a little make-believe teenage crush
you got out, never quite mine
I had grace but I was chaos inside.

You’re just a mythical thing
made from the backstabbing
you don’t know me
you know a girl so naive
when I had you in my palm
before we sabotaged it all
but I’m content tonight
I found someone that felt right.

You’re just a mythical thing
my omen, my warning
you don’t play God with nature
you don’t tamper with your maker
that’s when you lose your appetite
become emaciated over night
that was no way to live
nearly got myself killed.

You’re just a mythical thing
a story I was telling
now you’re a thing of the past
and I won’t bring that pain back
a little bit of truth combined
became a tall tale over time
and I’m okay letting go
farewell, dear jackalope.

– Valerie Parente (6-6-2021)

The Seven Swords

The Seven Swords by Valerie Parente

He was an elven warrior,
wielding a mighty sword,
an Excalibur that glowed,
in dire times of war.

There were six other swords,
each emanating a vibrant hue,
violet, indigo, green, yellow,
orange, scarlet, and his was blue.

This elf belonged to the clouds,
his people charged the stars,
on a stratosphere of temples,
each lighting up the dark.

Sky-born elves were peaceful,
up until a decade ago,
when archangels from underground,
took the stars as their own.

Ever since that catastrophic heist,
the world was never the same,
all creatures lived in the dark,
using torches to illuminate.

That’s when the seven swords
broke their hibernation,
their glow was the key,
to defeating hell’s nation.

The blue sword resided in a raincloud,
violet was stored on the lilac beach,
indigo hid away in the catacombs,
green perched in the forts of trees,
yellow in the sunlight chapel,
orange in the nymph observatory,
and scarlet in the wicked forest,
that guarded hell from enemies.

All seven swords were retrieved,
by different breeds of man,
elves, witches, trolls, and more,
each ready to take a stand.

Every retrieval was its own tale,
but that is for another day,
today we discuss the battle,
that took place at hell’s gates.

The archangels fought hard,
to keep the world in the dark,
but the seven swords fought harder,
to find the light that was lost.

For seven days and seven nights,
the battleground was on fire,
and sword after sword,
illuminated like a lighter.

The archangels were defeated,
by the myriad of colors,
and every time one deceased,
they exploded like no other.

A rainbow of brilliant rays,
shot up like a beam to the sky,
and each archangel carcass,
became a new kind of starlight.

Ever since that fateful day,
the blue sword became a symbol,
absorbing the light in the sky,
that once belonged to the dismal.

We learn from the seven swords,
that sometimes the darkest minds,
just need a little spark,
to surrender to the bright side.

– Valerie Parente (4-16-2021)

The Spider Princess

The Spider Princess by Valerie Parente

There once lived a Spider Princess,
deep in the catacombs,
the tombs were her kingdom,
where she reaped what was sewn.

Some say she was enchanted,
some say she was cursed,
finding patterns in everything,
making webs out of words.

She conjures the ancient wisdom,
that belonged to the spiders,
having studied their magic,
and all they’ve inspired.

These webs that she made,
were connected to the dead,
bound by silver cords,
to create spiritual webs.

She sees the interconnection,
all is eternal, all never ends,
like star maps and constellations,
there’s always a common thread.

When loved ones came to grieve,
in the glorious underground shrine,
the Spider Princess bestowed gifts,
tapestries beyond space and time.

Every mother, every father,
every widow in the village,
came to the Spider Princess,
begging to send a message.

Over the years the Princess learned,
more often than you’d expect,
it wasn’t the dead needing to be heard,
it was the ones who were left.

Just the words “I’m okay”,
“All is well, you can rest”,
were enough to relieve the living,
when she wove her silver webs.

It was a heavy duty, for sure,
but the Spider Princess didn’t mind,
she knew how important words were,
for those who are still alive.

– Valerie Parente (4-10-2021)

For the Love of Fantasy

For The Love of Fantasy by Valerie Parente

Nothing has ever made me feel more alive,
than turning a stream of consciousness into fantasy rhymes,
bringing to life dark fairytales that pull at heartstrings,
taking a subtle mood and honing the art of exaggerating.
The beautiful quality of fantasy and daydreamed worlds
is that nothing is literal, it’s all a hypothetical metaphor,
and just because I am the narrator of something literary
does not mean I’ve mistaken my story with reality.
I’m inspired by what’s in my psyche, not the world outside
creating scripts for daydreamers who don’t feel whole in real life.

– Valerie Parente (8-13-2020)