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 SUMMARY

NEW BOOK HERE

Have you been enjoying my poetry? I love to post my work on valerieparente.com to act as a free library for my writing and art. That being said, if you would like a HARD COPY of my latest work (200+ poetry and prose pieces) you can support me by purchasing Moonchild Manifesto: A Poetry & Prose Collection on Amazon.com. (LINK HERE) Coping with the trauma that arises when you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder during a pandemic and heartbreak and also dealing with the leftover trauma from OCD and anorexia growing up are major themes in Moonchild Manifesto. There is a progression throughout the collection that begins with recognizing pain and heartbreak, transforms into reflection and how your mind could ever get to such a traumatized and obsessive point, and graduates into hopefulness through fantastical allegory-poem hybrids and personal poetic affirmations. Along with stomping out mental health stigma this collection has undertones of feminism, free speech activism, spirituality, and commentary on living through a pandemic. This is easily my favorite project thus far and I would love to share it with the world.

If you liked any of the following pieces on my website you will love them in a full collection that follows a trajectory from The Hurt, The Heal, into The Hope. Some fan favorite poems in Moonchild Manifesto are:

  • Let Go
  • Fishnets
  • The Moon & The Third Eye
  • Venus Fly Trap
  • Like My Dolls
  • These Laurels Were Not Meant To Rest
  • The One That Got Away
  • Your Wardrobe
  • Change, So Bittersweet
  • Why?
  • The Picures I Paint
  • You Look Like You’ve Seen A Ghost
  • In The Jungle
  • Pamper Yourself
  • The Spider Princess
  • Wind Up Toy

– Valerie Parente (7-5-2021)

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)

Pixie Dust

Pixie Dust by Valerie Parente

Little nymph with rainbow wings,
sprinkling pixie dust,
making the darkness sparkle,
with her magic touch.

Little fairy with sharp intuition,
seeing auras through glass eyes,
your energy is clear to her,
even when you try to hide.

Little creature of the forest,
with empathy like the stars,
she envisions how you feel,
dividing light in equal parts.

Their whimsical spirits exceed the days,
like totems passed down the human race,
so very minuscule in this time and place,
yet endless in the sentiments they convey.

– Valerie Parente (3-8-2021)

Abandoned Castle

Abandoned Castle by Valerie Parente

She thought she had it all figured out
when she was young
dreaming of a big grand castle
glowing under the sun.
She thought she would live in a fairytale
when she grew up
dancing in a glorious castle
a place to fall in love.

The years piled on
the castle’s appeal faded.
Some say she grew up
some say she grew jaded.
Love is not as simple
as the moss that covers stone.
Dreams are not meaningful
until you fail, then you grow.
Now ivy on the walls
climbs up so very tall
and with dreams so big
she began to feel small.
That’s when the abandonment happened
and she realized fantasies can cause harm
often inflated by a toxic desire
so she decided to move on.

Tale be told, she abandoned her castle
but that is no more than folklore;
she didn’t abandon that castle
that castle abandoned her
and that turned out to be
the castle’s greatest favor
for when the fantasizing ceased
she began to enjoy the real world.

– Valerie Parente (3-7-2021)

Spellbound (Analysis)

Spellbound Analysis

A major project I have been working on in 2020 and 2021 is a fantasy series (to be completed). The poem Spellbound is not part of this series, but it is inspired by the same artistic process I’ve been using to write my dark little fairy tale. This process consists of me translating my mental struggles into fantastical terms and motifs. I was thinking to myself about the obsessive nature of falling in love or falling into fascination with a person, place, or thing as someone with OCD. It is an experience more negative and toxic than it is positive and enjoyable. And it’s something I get called “crazy” for a lot, so I wanted to write a poem in my own little self-aware way as a hypothetical rebuttal to anybody that weaponizes my OCD against me. With that in mind I started to refer to the that mind-altering moment when I fall into fixation with something as a “spark”. This spark, something that many people feel with “love at first sight”, is always exciting at its inception. In the mirrored fantasy version of my psyche the spark is, quite literally, “magic”. That spark has proven since I was a teenager to always end badly though, and that’s why Spellbound describes the origin of this spell as a blessing from a witch that has gone awry. “[She] struck my heart, but must have missed […] because I feel it in my brain.” This whole concept of feeling love in the brain instead of the heart is, well, at the heart of my experience with obsessive compulsive disorder. It’s a trick. It’s a gift gone wrong. It’s not the magical feeling that one feels in heart, it’s obsession, and that is the difference between OCD and real authentic love. One is felt in the brain, and one is felt in the heart. The one felt in the brain is a toxic version of the latter. And I’m no fool to how that spell has manipulated the way I handle social situations in the past.

Spellbound carries on to describe three stage of obsession in rhymes. First the excitement, second the longing, and last the devastation. This is pretty self-explanatory of how OCD feels in any brain that feels the initial “spark”. Then the poem finishes off in a closing stanza about the repetitive nature of the OCD cycle. OCD fixations happen in the following order: Obsession, Compulsion, a feeling of Relief, and then starts over with a new Obsession. This model for the mental disorder was directly referenced when writing the last stanza. The reason I even thought to write this poem was mainly due to the sentiment expressed in the last line, “It never works out and I get worse. A brand new spell with the same hurt.” This is where my frustration comes in, because I do truly feel like falling in love for most people is like a spell, but its a magical experience that is innately positive. I don’t feel that way as someone with OCD. This positive experience that seems so great for everyone else always goes wrong for me because of the way my brain malfunctions in an obsessive compulsive manner. I thought about this recently because I started to feel a new spark, and it was fantastic, but I shut it down as quick as possible. I just don’t have the energy or will to be spellbound again. Not now, at least. Someday I’ll figure out how to be spellbound in my heart instead of my brain, but that day is not today. I’ll stick to exploring psychological phenomena with a rhythmic fantasy backdrop for now.

You can read my poem, Spellbound, here.

– Valerie Parente (1-29-2021)