Dirt

Dirt by Valerie Parente

I strolled back to that field of dirt
where the trauma was at its worst.
And suddenly I’m twelve again
And I feel absolutely no different.
So much dirt on my hands
Like I didn’t stand a chance
Because I was way too deep
In the dirt beneath my feet.
And I can see it now
The seeds meant to sprout.
The place I was supposed to grow a garden
But a bunch of rowdy kids interrupted the harvest.
Throwing dirt at my name
When I was at that critical age.
My mind is twenty-six years old and it hasn’t forgotten
All the times those kids teased me just for talking.
“Do you want to dance with her?” some girl asked,
“Never,” the popular boy laughed.
It’s taken me a decade and a half
To realize I’ve been wearing that past,
Attracted to the trauma of being unwanted
That’s why I fall for men who aren’t options.
And I’m fairly certain there’s a part of me
That’s been trying to understand why I was teased
That’s why I looked for the worst in myself
And fell into an adolescent kind of hell.
Back then I just dismissed and dismissed
Because I knew that kids will be kids.
In a way I was more sensible back then
Because now I feel the need to openly obsess.
That’s why I visited this field of dirt in the first place
I figured it was about time to unearth that pain.
I’m not upset, I’m not mad.
I just wanna know what about me was so bad
That they felt the need to throw that dirt
When I was just a twelve year old girl
Minding my own business in my own garden
Planting a future I almost walked in.

Its not about trying to re-hash old wounds
It’s about trying to get to the root.
Because there’s trauma under this ground
and I think I’m ready to dig it out.
There is so much beauty in retrospect
Because as I look back, the clouds roll in.
Now the rain is coming down
And those seeds are finally ready to sprout.

– Valerie Parente (12-10-2020)

The Beauty of Darkness (III)

The Beauty of Darkness (III) by Valerie Parente

I do not feel shame
when I am in pain;
I feel grace.

Pain gives you the opportunity to create
something authentically great
from a negative space
and it shows the utmost grace
when you can find honor
in an unfavorable mental state.

– Valerie Parente (11-6-2020)

Idiosyncratic Pain

Idiosyncratic Pain by Valerie Parente

I don’t want to be known for my pain,
I want to make the most of my pain,
and if that entails
emotions to prevail
in a story that parallels
my particular mental hell
and I can make you understand
a specific circumstance
then all will be fine
’cause baby, I’m one of a kind.

– Valerie Parente (10-22-2020)

The Artist, The Muse

dark angel

The Artist, The Muse by Valerie Parente

What if the artist is her own muse?
Well then the art is her own truth.

This girl, a mastermind of the English language,
This girl, unmasked, has a mind of ink and pages.
Her metaphors have a way of making the literal very literary.
She believes in foreshadowing, the act of oncoming clouds.
Though it’s make-believing… for shadows, in fact, are uncommon in clouds.
A dreamer, she is.
A dream, where she lives.

She makes stories and tales
Making up stories entails
Being in private
There she writes this…
Man invested in an emotional girl
Manifested in the motion of words
Written on many sheets that hide
Ridden of men, she confides.

When she finally decides to share a work spawned from her mind
Then you find that she designed a rare world flawed on the inside.
Still, each of her works expressed.
Will teach of her worst and best.

Interesting how brave she is
In trusting the reader to read her.
She is the author who yearns as affliction writes her unique imagination.
Shares another, you soon learn as a fiction writer, you need image innovation.

A motif is a treasure.
A treasure is her motif.
Therefore, when the artist is her own muse
She makes use of her own truth.

 


 

Buy The Artist, The Muse : A Poetry & Prose Collection

The Artist, The Muse by Valerie Parente

– Valerie Parente (11-20-2019)

 

Full Moon Baby

Moon Candy

Full Moon Baby by Valerie Parente

The gravity of her decisions is a balancing act
On a full moon she learned how to manipulate the mad
and when she sees her mistakes she thinks “oh that’s a shame”
but the weight of her fate is never in vain.

– Valerie Parente (6-24-2019)

A Poetic Manifesto

A Poetic Manifesto by Valerie Parente

What it means to be an artist is that I take my life experiences and process them through a creative filter. My internal world manifests best through the art of written word. As a result, when I’m in pain I might write a “dark” piece. To those who find this work disturbing, this is my rebuttal.

"Scar Tissue"

I have every right to say anything I want to say
because this page is my stage and this is my brain
and the reason you felt uncomfortable when you read it
was because you have resonated with it.
If you become upset knowing that I am broken
then please understand that writing about my mental health
is how I begin to heal myself.

I will never stop emoting and hurting and healing and if any of this is problematic for someone then I pray you find the strength to learn how to be human one day.

– Valerie Parente (5-30-2019)

Trust the Stars

Trust the Stars by Valerie Parente

What is meant to be is already unfolding
Promises we send in space and time
Keep your faith through the darkness of night
And the right pathway will be realized.

Trust the stars
They know your heart.

Destiny is your relationship with the universe
The stars reflect the dust you are made of.
Guardian angels glowing down from above
Writing constellations in a language called love.

Trust the stars
Wherever you are.

The awe that you feel in today
Is not constrained to the starry sky
Whenever you forget about your stellar guide
Remember, you are made of the same light.

Trust the stars
They got you this far.

Stardust

– Valerie Parente (7-2-17)