THIS MORTAL COIL

 

Royal blue &
translucent gold do await my soon return.

I  go to where there are no bones arotting.

Do not cry for me;
I am kept in the bosom of a holy dove.

Lo, these many years, 
my hands have been stretched upwards.

Abundant joy &
immaculent breezes are my preferred portion.

Blue-midnight,
angelic visitations steer my many night-visions.

This mortal coil is
but my chrysalis; gossamar wings wait for me.

The last mile is truly bloody virtue-Via Dolorosa.
 

 Alice Parris

Photography by Stony River/AU

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

APHID FURY

                                                            

Aphid Fury
                                                                                                   

by Alice Parris

Black asbestos-clad  beetles       burrow their way up though   the desert- basin. They bear witness   to mutated scorpions with body armor   awaiting their fierce day of battle.   Then, they will darken the sun.   Those distracted by aphid fury   Will be unable to evade mortal stings.

THE GILDED CAGE

I have made for myself a gilded cage. I have
decorated it with lovely trickets in many colors: 
fushia, gold, ivory, hot-pink, cilantro, lilac, ruby

citrine, turquoise, emerald,  silver, sand and sage.

There are mirrors everywhere. Their borders
are brushed gold or eggshell-lacquered metal.

I have throw pillows on top of my opulent bed

in satin hot-pink and peacock -green. A pillow of
lilac brocade and golden tassels execute the exotic.

My coverlet is adorned with brocaded baby cherubs 
on ivory satin. A Tiffany butterfly and a space-age,
multi-pastel, heliotrope lampstand lights the night.

Blinds & sheer cilantro curtains diffuse sunlight.
I am allergic to the sun. I will burn like a vampire.

My king-sized, pillow-topped Tempur-pedic bed
has four Tempur-pedic pillows to prop my head
during  sleep;  ensuring maximum oxygenation
from three Ionic Breeze purifiers with O2 boost.

White noise from a ceiling fan is conducive to
celestial dreams & visions. Humans enter only by
permission.  No feathered or furred creature can
ever enter; my own Kryptonite (along with dust,
mold and all green, growing things) My nightmare.

I am strange-flesh; exotic bird trapped in gilded cage,

wingless in the face of this black obsidian hole
into which I was unceremoniously dropped long ago.
 
When I am freed from my gilded cage, do not look for
me. Joyously, I will exit this planet with its many secret
stones, cryptic passageways  & undeciphered pyramids.

Earth is still scheduled for a series of eruptive/disruptive,
volcanic/colonics.  It is then, that prayer will be guileless.

 

Alice Parris

THE THIRD DAY

There is a

Choosing

That visits

Us all in

Our brief

Sojourn

On earth.

The decision

We make will

Forever

Alter our

Destiny

Here and

Beyond.

There is a

Choosing

That must

Try us all,

With but

One right

Choice

To be made.

It is

Simply this:

To love or

Not to love.

What value

Has silver

Or gold,

Pain or

Pleasure,

Pride or

Power,

When on

The Scale

With love

Weighed

In

Eternity.

Alice Parris

THE SEASON OF MARTYRS

 

The Cardinal exults herself in muted shades of grey. The Robin has lost his throbbing breast. Quietly, he hops behind black curtains hung from the heavens. Our once-quiet home has become the haunt of every bird of prey. Condors spread their wings like peacocks while the Great White Eagle watches. … awaiting the signal, awaiting a sign. Do we long for the smell of one last summer rain, as sulfurous flames belch out from hell? Who will make the preparations as we enter the season of martyrs? Alice Parris