Cosmic Web

Cosmic Web by Valerie Parente

No illustrations this time,
only words to sway your mind,
I want you to read and absorb,
into your own mental world,
the manifesto alludes my intentions,
tell me how it fits in your dimension,
because my experiences come from me,
but when spoken they fill a collective stream,
in this sense, we are all connected,
a cosmic web that needs no mention,
like a dreamcatcher catching dreams,
we’re all interwoven miraculously,
come, tell me your name,
come, into the infinite space.

– Valerie Parente (6-8-2021)

Fever Dream

Fever Dream by Valerie Parente

It should not be hard to believe
her manifesto is written in poetry
a declaration of every insight
she finalized with the moonlight.
A quill pen in her hand
from the feather of a phoenix
and her tempo flows and flows
a silver tongue put to a scroll.
That poet’s name, its Valerie
a doll manifesting her fever dream
collecting lessons like mannequins
while she learns to love again.

– Valerie Parente (6-5-2021)

Make Sense of It

Make Sense of It by Valerie Parente

I saw my teacher speaking,
I saw the words on the paper,
but I couldn’t make sense of it.
I knew it wasn’t a foreign language,
but it damn near felt like it.

I tried and I tried,
I read the same pages as everyone else,
but when it came to discussing the chapter
I missed everything they talked about.
Peers scoffing that I didn’t understand what I read,
teachers scolding, thinking I didn’t read at all,
peers moving on to honors without me,
teachers announcing that I was lazy.

This isn’t a pity party,
this is processing a processing issue
that went on for so long undiagnosed
and I just want to understand
why it was so hard to make sense of it.

Now it all makes sense,
why I struggled in the way that I did.
Starving my brain certainly didn’t help,
but it felt like a just punishment for being the “dumb friend”.
Developing obsessions certainly didn’t help,
but it felt damn good to understand something inside out.

They said this was about intelligence,
they said I was just stupid,
but I didn’t feel stupid,
I felt like I was trying to make sense of sound with sight,
like I was reading a language foreign to mine,
like I was going through the motions blind,
like I was faking it all the Goddamn time.
Well I’m a writer now,
I make art your class can talk about,
I excel at university with essays,
I write books, I write articles,
and guess what? I get paid.

This isn’t a bragging session,
this is finding comfort in that it was never about intellect
and I just want to understand
why full grown adults who were supposed to help
couldn’t make sense of it.

– Valerie Parente (4-12-2021)

These Laurels Were Not Meant To Rest

These Laurels Were Not Meant To Rest by Valerie Parente

Imagine, imagine, imagine.
When the world is mundane
I give it my passion
another artistic era
to rise from the ashes.

Create, create, create.
People say I should be satisfied
but I need to formulate
an endless stream of words
from this mental landscape.

Another rhyme, another day,
another opportunity for artistic display.
These laurels were not meant to rest,
in this garden I’ll always progress,
so ever-evolving, so evergreen,
like the creativity that lives within me.

– Valerie Parente (2-26-2021)

Art Without Fame

Art Without Fame by Valerie Parente

Artistic displays without God-like fame gets you weird looks.
Promiscuous fashion without hollow passion gets you unsold books.
Poetic mindsets without a publisher’s subtext gets you ridiculed.
Free expression without others’ discretion gets you verbal abuse.
Because it’s okay to feel hurt
as long as you have a following
and it’s okay to create stories
as long as you’re not being honest,
but the moment you draw from your real life
without the public’s hype
that’s when they call you the bad guy;
Because art without fame is just the diary of a lunatic.
Love without a mate gets you deemed the psycho chick.
And this is not a complaint, just a reminder that I’m aware of it.
So bid me your hate, I’m already immune to it.

I’ve learned to accept that when you merge intellect with fishnets as a way to project an explicit mindset and mental health awareness you’ll get teased by the rest but I’m okay with that test because I’ve overcome too much stress against the odds of my illness to still give a fraction of a shit.

– Valerie Parente (1-12-2021)

The Crystal Tree

The Crystal Tree by Valerie Parente

There is a plant that sprouts
though not from a seed,
it spawns from a gem.
They call it the crystal tree
and when it is full grown
sparkling prisms it breeds,
dangling from ebony branches,
a quartz and amethyst variety.

All the boys and the girls
like to go crystal picking,
plucking off shiny rocks,
in return a prophecy is given,
reflecting the constellations
that the stars have written.
Each crystal shows a path
specific to all the children.

One day young Elissa
wandered through destiny’s groves.
Eager for some direction
she plucked a droplet the color of rose
and ever since that day
she thought in poetry an prose
making a living through words
recording her conscience in rows.

Sometimes we find guidance
in the depths of nature
discovering ultimate truths
for man is its mirror.
We can sparkle, we can shine
and nothing is dearer
than the clarity of our instincts
and an intuition that is clearer.

– Valerie Parente (11-25-2020)

Copyrighted

Copyrighted by Valerie Parente

I own exclusive legal rights to the words from this mouth
drawn by my tongue
always right and never wrong
because I feel how I’m meant to
in the phrases that come through,
they’re from me to you.
If you love it, I do too
but if you hate it, I don’t know you.

– Valerie Parente (10-27-2020)

Like Fine China

Like Fine China by Valerie Parente

How can one be so strong and indestructible
yet appear like fine china, so fragile.
Royal blue details drawn on clay
art on top of an artistic display.
Breaking as I break down,
a million pieces so jagged and profound.
I could use them to separate my skin
instead I made a vase out of porcelain.
I filled the china like a beautiful bouquet
with flowers that had already decayed.
And everybody calls me a sick freak
because I can still see their beauty
but it’s them who fail to see
that dead flowers make great tea
and I’ll sip it as I grieve
remembering how it felt to be
like fine china, too pretty to comprehend
until they break me down again.

– Valerie Parente (10-5-2020)

Pick A Side

Pick A Side by Valerie Parente

I’m either a threat or I’m a mess.
This cannot be a dual process.
Because you say that I’m problematic
and then in the very same breath
that I have no influence on your conscience.
You cannot have it both ways,
I’m either intelligent or I’m crazed.
And if you think I’m a combination of both
then you’re in support of the role I chose.

– Valerie Parente (10-2-2020)