Tag: Poetry

Incarnate

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Incarnate by Valerie Parente

If the soul is something invisible
then why do certain songs make my soul feel seen?
And if my consciousness is divisible
then why do centuries of stories have the same theme?
If I didn’t choose this body
then why do I pick my own brain?
If I didn’t choose this journey
then why did I incarnate?
If true essence is impossible to capture
then why can art mirror my mind?
If there is no such thing as life after
then why does lost love linger behind?

I don’t think anyone really knows
what we’re doing here
but if there was ever a clue
it wouldn’t be in what makes sense, but how we feel.

– Valerie Parente (4-6-2025)

The False Promise of the Damsel in Distress

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The False Promise of the Damsel in Distress
by Valerie Parente

I don’t think enough girls were taught the difference
between being in love and being obsessed,
so many stories of womanhood
were really stories of sickness,
that to attract a man
you have to be a damsel in distress,
that happily ever after was the goal
and your journey before was meaningless.

They taught us that pity
means he endlessly cares
and that negative attention
means love is in the air.
They said there has to be an obstacle
you can only overcome with him there,
that your accomplishments are null
unless a prince witnessed the despair.

So here’s to the girls
who broke their own hearts
taking on the damsel archetype
before adulthood could even start.
We are not ruined beyond repair,
we’re just a little scarred;
may we raise our daughters
as we raise our bars.

– Valerie Parente (3-28-2025)

A Wordsmith, The Original Spellcaster

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A Wordsmith, The Original Spellcaster by Valerie Parente

Words.
They are magic spells.
That’s why they call it spelling
when you string these symbols together
and create meaning out of them
to cast what’s inside your head out into the atmosphere
to evoke emotions and reactions out of your peers.

The wordsmith,
the original spellcaster.
The poet,
the witch of language pastures.
The scholar,
the sage becoming a master.
The linguist
the manipulator of matter.
Free speech,
the enchantment we must look after.

– Valerie Parente (3-23-2025)

Pull

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Pull by Valerie Parente

She feels the pull
of light in equal amounts
the full fledged growth
from a garden she’s planting now.

They say it’s a green thumb
but it’s more like a claw on her hand
the one she used to scrape the dirt
then watch the seeds turn to plants.

This is no burial
it’s a call to rise
for a girl to become the woman
like a flower growing towards the light.

That light is her future self
smiling from above
a perfect reflection
of the frown she came from.

This pull she felt since she was young,
it was always in her view
and the only thing that is with you 100% of the time…
make no mistake, it is future you.

– Valerie Parente (3-22-2025)

Irrevocable

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Irrevocable by Valerie Parente

In my anxiety
I imagine
if I lost it all
and in my anxiety
I imagine
my reaction
to if I lost it all
and the first thought that comes to mind
is “I’ve had such a great life”
because something about being without
makes me realize how unfathomably blessed I’ve been
and in what I lack in the present tense
I’ve gained the ability to see how the universe once filled that space
and to be able to recognize a miracle
is an irrevocable miracle in itself.
The world can decay and the universe can evaporate
but to no longer be blind to how life was great
is not a loss, it’s a gain.

– Valerie Parente (3-15-2025)

A Vicious Circle

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A Vicious Circle by Valerie Parente

In the circle of life
there is no disconnect between left or right
the farther you stray
the closer you get to being one in the same
meeting in the middle
no matter how much or how little
you try to hide
under the guise of “you and I”
but there is no separation
just a vicious circle of hatred
you can go around the world a thousand times
and see the same shapes, just different sizes.
Maybe it’s time we realize
our point of view isn’t so profound and
you will always come back, full circle,
so you might as well be well rounded.

– Valerie Parente (3-9-2025)

Medusa Had It Right

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Medusa Had It Right by Valerie Parente

Medusa had it right
when she turned that man to stone.
Female wrath doesn’t just happen
it gets provoked.
If you dare look at her
when she does not condone
don’t act surprised
by the rage she holds
because the male gaze
only benefits one role
and it’s not the women
it pretends to boast.

– Valerie Parente (3-7-2025)

They Want Your Heart of Gold

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They Want Your Heart of Gold by Valerie Parente

It is not your fault
that you were manipulated again
you trust so easy
and find it hard to comprehend
that someone might use you
to tie up their own loose ends;
just know your greatest crime
was being a good person.

You have a softness through and through
and this quality attracts manipulators to you
because you have something that they don’t
a heart, and it’s made of pure gold.
Gold is one of the easiest elements to mold
to poke and prod and fold
manipulators see you as a commodity to behold
as if your honesty and loyalty could be sold
but did you also know
that gold does not easily corrode?
They can scratch and stretch and pull
but nothing can chip away at your soul.

Darling, you have a heart of gold
and the ones manipulating have a gaping hole.
Guess who is the valuable one
between the two of those?

– Valerie Parente (3-1-2025)


Winter Trees

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Winter Trees by Valerie Parente

Winter trees look quite distressed,
naked before the rest
but did you ever notice
that winter trees perfectly reflect
the roots that grow in the depths
of the grime, the grit, the stress,
in the dark it all manifests.

Like dendrites as they work,
planted once, then bringing forth
the nutrients through the dirt,
all you need to grow well versed,
a mirror for what it’s worth
of what goes on unearthed,
bound to one place but still traversed.

Winter trees denote
the truth of the untold,
that the ways we grow
don’t always show
until we withstand the cold,
so let it be known
as above, so below.

– Valerie Parente (2-23-2025)

Supernova

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Supernova by Valerie Parente

A dying star
is still a star, nevertheless
and when it goes out
a burst of light will be its last breath
leaving behind
shockwaves, so complex
the world cannot help
but feel its effects.
We may call it space
but there is no emptiness
for memories will linger
far past any death.

– Valerie Parente (2-16-2025)