Incantations by Valerie Parente

Where there is language, there is a pulse
and my pain is copyrighted on my tongue
maybe that’s why I understand
the taste of my own blood.

We made symbols for what we were hearing
we strung those symbols together to make meaning
we took meanings and organized them
into sonnets of rhyme and reason.

They’re called spells for witches
they’re religion for linguistics
for poets, prose in rows
God only knows the difference.

We speak these conditions
carefully into existence
the inner workings of the universe
have no concept of distance.

The rhymes and their placement
passed down generations
the craft of spoken word
in all its incantations.

Weak men call it a dark art
when women have wisdom to impart
stemming from the larynx
to the rhythm of their heart.

It’s a craft, nonetheless
but there’s nothing nefarious
it’s when we use our words
that it’s the ultimate catharsis.

– Valerie Parente (10-14-2026)