The Creator’s Paradox

November 11, 2025November 11, 2025Leave a comment

The Creator’s Paradox by Valerie Parente

What am I
if not God’s art?
God creates perfection
but you say that I’m wrong
and in the same virtuous breath
that I was made in His image all along.
How can the thing that created everything
be a pillar of perfection but create a world of flaws?

Every abomination
was someone’s creation
can we say the creator is sick
but not their rules and their laws
either I am a masterpiece, so idealistic
or I was a mistake never meant to spawn
but the one thing I know for sure is that I exist
so it would be insanity to say that there is no God.

The creator must be an artist
because our existence is a paradox
the goal of art is not to appear perfect
the goal is to express a breath and a thought.

– Valerie Parente (11-11-2025)

Everything Becomes Art

June 14, 2025Leave a comment

Everything Becomes Art by Valerie Parente

Everything she touches
turns to art.
Every challenge
a writing prompt.
Every dream
a metaphor.
Every breath
a lesson learned.

– Valerie Parente (6-14-2025)

If Only My Thoughts Could Fly Away

January 7, 2024March 3, 2024Leave a comment

If Only My Thoughts Could Fly Away by Valerie Parente

Crossed my legs and started to pray
that my thoughts could just fly away
but they’re delicate, so I confined them
inside a cage of the like-minded.

These thoughts have a life of their own
beautiful ravens that don’t know where to go
I tell them, “It’s okay, go with peace”
but they don’t know who they are without me.

The feelings are mutual between the thinker and the thoughts
but maybe it’s time to align with an outside cause…
so to those darklings with feathered wings
I bid you farewell from your upbringing.

– Valerie Parente (1-7-2024)

On Paper

January 2, 2024Leave a comment

On Paper by Valerie Parente

We were perfect on paper
but he didn’t like to read
that’s why it didn’t matter
when I wrote down our story.

– Valerie Parente (12-31-2023)

Succubus

October 6, 2023March 1, 2024Leave a comment

Succubus by Valerie Parente

Milky eyes rolled
in the back of her head
they accuse the succubus
of stealing dreams from the men.

She’s only as good
as when they want to be around her
as if her morality
is tied to their arousal.

He can touch her
but she can’t touch him
just like she can lose her value
but he can only win.

Her pleasure, her lust,
a malevolence in itself
while he’s in high heaven
she’s going straight to hell.

They call her a succubus
because she likes to be exposed
that’s why they justify
putting a knife to her throat.

But they don’t know
she’ll stroke the knife with her tongue
because she taught herself
to like the taste of blood.

she is the tree whisperer (A Fantasy Chronicle)

September 8, 2023October 4, 2023Leave a comment

she is the tree whisperer by Valerie Parente

Little baby girl
found at the bottom of a tree
nestled in the moss
along the tree’s anatomy
but she was not alone
in her perfectly sound sleep;
for the lullabies of the tree spirits
kept her warmth and company.

Found by three druids
but raised by two
they named her Sylvianna
under the wake of the moon,
offered her a home in the village
but she kindly refused
because there with the tree spirits
she felt connected to her roots.

Sylvianna grew to know the forest
like the back of her hand
from the tip of her toes
to her antennas of branch
receiving the whispers
from the lay of the land
learning about lifetimes
far beyond man.

With nails like claws
Sylvianna climbed to her kingdom
a network of treehouses
where she learned from the brilliant.
For there is a reason that trees
are known for their wisdom
because they’ve heard it all
throughout the ecosystem.

She is the tree whisperer
and she is one with the Nightingale forest
protecting the very territory
that granted her solace.
She had the option to leave
nature’s cruelty and harshness
but she whispered to herself,
“I’d much rather be haunted.”

Bitch!

September 4, 2023September 4, 2023Leave a comment

Bitch! by Valerie Parente

She says “I’m not your bitch”
but he sure was possessive,
eager to identify her
through his own perspective.
When that woman was assertive
she got called aggressive
when she used her brain
she was oh so deceptive
when she remembered his betrayal
she was so damn obsessive.

But you don’t fool me
though I’ll admit, it’s impressive
how you’ve villainized the female
in the conscious collective.
Since the beginning of time
the men in charge were defensive
talking down to “little girls”
but we knew the real message
they didn’t want an even playing field
they wanted outright oppression.

No I’m not your bitch
but I’ve learned my lesson
go ahead and call me one
7 days out of 7
I’ll carry the weight you gave the word
when you were busy deflecting;
now who’s the stronger sex
in this pointless competition
the one calling names
or the one making the impression?

– Valerie Parente (9-4-2023)

the illness that wants me all to itself

August 20, 2022Leave a comment

the illness that wants me all to itself by Valerie Parente

There are voices in my head
that do not belong to me
and when you ask how I feel
I can feel them speak.
There is a pattern in the language
so ripe with irony,
“To be sick is strong,
to be healthy is weak.
The pain finds a cure
when you cut skin deep.
To be sober is trapped,
to be drunk is free.
When you avoid your fears
their power depletes.”
It’s as if by design,
this backwards philosophy,
and I have to share a home
with the voices on repeat.
But I am no lost cause,
I can still find my speech
and maybe that’s why
I can write it so easily.
This illness wants me all to itself
but it will never have entirety
because as long as I have a pen
I can differentiate between
a voice in my head
and the words that compete.

– Valerie Parente (8-20-2022)

Thunderstorm Ritual

July 16, 2022July 16, 20221 Comment

Thunderstorm Ritual by Valerie Parente

The thunderstorm ritual,
light a candle,
open the windows,
and with every flash,
wait for the clap,
because this life,
its lightening fast,
written in the stars,
there is a crack,
striking a light,
from your past,
it already happened,
but it comes back,
the flicker of a moment,
never loses its impact.

Revel in the storm
like it’s your last.

– Valerie Parente (7-16-2022)