SILENCE SPOKE

 

SILENCE SPOKE

Now, is this great love
of yours spotted in imperfection.
 
Self-interest trumps the
declaration of your undying love.
 
Love was slashed in the ledger

This rose of yours bore thorns;
bleeding hands dripping rivulets…
 
Silence spoke. That which remained
unsaid was greater than that which spoke.

Sometimes, you can never go back…
I was bathed in great joy for one day.

Alice Parris

Photography by Anna Donovan-poet 

 

PULSE STORM

 

The underbelly of caterpillars
yields food for thought. The veins
of leaves became the swelling tendrils
of my ancestors, secured by moisture.

Lightning striking blows of blackened
sorrow. Thunder claps streaking across
orange & purple skies, swollen seas.

Mighty trees felled; throbbing fibers
left aching in the wake of pulse storm.

You came back into my life, pulse storm,
uprooting memories hidden in forests.
Branches sealed by tender touches had
been torn, cast to the ground.

Fushia optics, scarlet-reddened,
invigorated, awakened synapses travel
through time tunnels bringing me here
 

and now, facing yet another encounter  
with the alpha-force of mighty pulse storm.

 

Alice Parris

photography by Paul Thomson

Concept of title, “Pulse Storm” by Stony River-AU

 

THE WOMAN OF A THOUSAND CUTS

She barely noticed, as she skipped
along as a child, the bushes of ill-will.

She, being envied, never understood…
As she passed by these bloodied-bushes,

thorns scraped her legs and a thorn
pierced her left foot. She kept on skipping,

stopping long enough to pull out
the offending thorn. Forgetfulness…

When she became a woman, she never
noticed the lustful glances.

After the rapes, she noticed a gash in
her private parts. Unmourned…

Time heals all wounds. She kept moving.
The pimp-style beating, the steely-glint

of a pointed gun, the betrayal of love,
left black & blue marks in places no one

was designed to see; within her heart.
Loving again, she found mockery to be

her daily bread. These assaults became
lacerations of the mind, not the will.

When others carried away her children,
she moaned deeply, gutturally; a wounded

animal. There was massive internal bleeding.
She kept moving. Die to self is the only truth.

When she stopped to share wisdom and light,
she met deception and darkness.

Fiery comets cauterized this bleeding.
She kept moving, though her pace slowed

with age. She has flash-backs
of a thousand cuts, looks above, seeks

comfort from life’s only love.

 

Alice Parris

DEBAUCHED BRAIN

 

 

 

 

Faux photography by Anna Donovan-poet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do not

 

Judge me

With your

Debauched brain.

A brain plundered

By excess

Of wrong thinking.

 A brain

Ravished by

Endless

Self-justification.

A brain

Laid to waste

By opening

Itself up

Too many times

To the traditions

Of  men.

A brain

Kept alive

By imbibing

Poison

From the

Adder’s tongue.

Do not

Judge me!

Judge yourself…

If you dare!

 

 

 

 

 

 

ADONIS IMMORTAL

                 An
                Ancient
                Carving;
                Cushite
                King
                With
                Full
                Lips
                And
                Dove
                Eyes.
                Majestic
                Male
                Beauty
                Carved
                In
                Eternal
                Ebony.

               Alice Parris

INSOMNIA

Bleary-eyes do not trouble me. My eyes are crystal clear and wide awake in the hours of darkness.   I am a gate-keeper. I await the dawn. Another will take over my watch.  Vigilance is needed, lest the walls be broken down, the city overrun.  Frivolities are fruitless as the darkness paces itself as a snail. My spirit searches for what ever moves; strange limbs re-position themselves in the darkness. I am aware. I can see without eyes.   By Alice Parris

THE JAILOR

 

 

When did you become my jailor? Was it during one of those costume changes, that I thought was such fun?     You appeared as a Harlequin at Mardi Gras– How was I to know That you were soon to be feared?   When did that state ID appear upon your slate-gray uniform?   When did you begin to blow a whistle, demanding that I queue up?   Alice Parris

 

MY LIFE: UNPREDICTABLE

Is as unpredictable as the myriad hues of Autumn leaves.     I never know what season of life that I am in. That too, has been unpredictable.   I have had to just wring my hands until trouble passes,    I am caught up in the tornado of life, wondering whatever happened to Kansas?    Where did I get those sparkling, ruby slippers?    My life has not been planned, plotted, scheduled, or on course.  It just happens.    Am I a star-child, wandering?    By Alice Parris

THE UNTOLD

                                                                                               

Deep waters and raging seas    Are within the sound of my  Voice departing upon the ether. Deep waters are a graveyard; Untold stories are buried there.       Alice Parris

YOU LOST ME

                                                                                                                                                    

 

 

You lost me  Somewhere   Between   Meandering Lines…   Between Silences, Omissions, Compromises, You lost me.    Alice Parris