ALICE PARRIS FAMILY TREE: MY BEAUTIFUL MOTHER, NORMA

Norma Louise RichardsonNorma Louise RichardsonMy mother, Norma Richardson at nineteen years old

Norma Louise Richardson

Norma Richardson at twenty

Norma Louise RichardsonNorma Richardson Kelly in her late twenties

Norma Richardson Kelly

Norma Richardson Kelly at approximately forty years old

Norma Richarson Kelly

My mother Norma Richardson Harrison at eighty years old

Norma Richardson Harrison-my mother

My mother has been married to a physician, a Jewish attorney, a jazz trumpeter(in the Savannah Hall Of Fame) and a Professor Emeritus from University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, Michigan. She is now eighty-five years young. She is very active and possesses more vim and vigor than people a fraction of her age. She has never had to work a day in her life. She has lived in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina for twenty-five years. This is my tribute of love for the beautiful Norma, without whose DNA, I would not have been able to pass down beauty to my children & grandchildren. Alice Parris

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LUNA

Photography by Stony River /AU

Photography by Stony River/AU

LUNA

Smoky-shadow remembrances;
specters of touches, smiles, shapes

of almond eyes & dripping mouths.

Now, the frozen moon cries blue.
Her tears are dreadful, epic floods.

I stand under her looming shadow,
dripping in indigo-blue memories.

Luna is pregnant
with all my scorched-earth secrets.

Alice Parris

THE SHIFT: IT’S TIME TO CHANGE GEARS

There comes a point in everyone’s life when they have to shift gears. For purposes of survival or sanity, a decision will be made to alter the speed of engagement or the direction of the course being taken. For some, boredom is just the norm. Low level depression has become a tolerable condition. Feeling alive doesn’t seem as important as staying alive. Those who have multiple talents and no longer find life to be enjoyable or even bearable, must make this shift. Some people are good at being in the present, while others languish in the past and view the future with uncertainty. We create our tomorrows by what we engage in today. Very simple. No matter how successful someone is, in any given field, if the juice is gone-then it’s gone. It is not anyone’s fault. It is just a universal demand for change in the lives of every living creature. Homosapiens (while more complex) also experience this primal need for change. 

We have become trapped by want. Our want of anything and everything. It keeps us locked in. What would happen if we just stopped wanting? If we simplified and in some cases downsized our lives. We have been told to “super-size” everything-except for our weight! We went along with this agenda because it fed our want. Having fed our want, we wanted even more. How disappointing when our want has consumed so much of our planet. But, I am mainly talking about being personally content. Stop wanting. I plan to. I did not give up wanting as a New Year’s Resolution. I did not give it up for Lent. I am giving it up because I find it to be anxiety producing and the source of great misery when the object of want does not lend itself to being wanted…by me.

I am involved with multiple creative endeavors and I hit a dry spell. I did not want to read. I did not want to write. I barely wanted to create lyrics. I did not want to sing. I lost the song in my heart. It was the end result of having wanted too damned much. Old story, but perhaps a salvation for me. Without want there are no “knobs to turn.”  There are no “carrots” to be successfully dangled. There won’t be the sucking sound as the takers take what they promised to give. Now, I plan to create a new tomorrow. I plan on slashing anything upon the ledger that will bring me back to the state of wanting. Creating a new tomorrow requires going deep within ones “spirit well.”  I am going and I will stay there until I have sorted out what it is that my eyes would like to see.

I have created many futures, already. I started as a fortune-teller, long ago. Then, I became a Registered Nurse. After a season, I went into Forensic Psychiatric Nursing. Rough stuff. I would find myself on night-shift writing poetry. I intended to get the poems published-but they just seemed too dark.  Simultaneously, I had been writing lyrics. I studied everything worth reading on the subject. I got the general idea of how to structure lyrics. Having been an abstract poet, lyric writing required discipline. I, then, hooked up with a talented musician(Bobby Parris) for a Spoken Word CD.  I wrote blues, Contemporary Christian and jazz lyrics that were published and became beautiful songs. I sang jazz songs from the 30’s & 40’s to Afro-Euro Groove. This was all while having had five consecutive  husbands and raising five children(ages thirty-five to thirteen)

There are so many things that we are told that we cannot do without. Well, the list is not as long as one would suppose. I wanted to make my mark in the earth and that I have done. I never wanted riches. My family has had prosperity for generations. By nineteen years old, I had discovered that money and status never made me happy. I spent my time giving away anything that I had and did not utilize. Now, that was fun! I have blogged my heartfelt opinions. Now, I am fairly well blogged-out. Cyberpace has been sucking up my future life. I have to make it stop. I have got to change these gears!

 

Alice Parris

MOVING THROUGH REALMS OF DARKNESS INTO THE LIGHT

 

Faux-photography from Anna Donovan-poet

 
 
 
 I was born a “Sensitive.” This means that I have always been able to gather information that exists in spiritual realms. There are many forms of “knowing.” I will just call it PSI. Because I had such a strong degree of extra-sensory perception, I was recruited by the forces of darkness to be trained as a fortune-teller. This “recruitment” was something as simple as a “reader” telling my mother that I was born to be in the occult. She bought me a deck of  Tarot cards and told me that she would never spend another dime on “readers,” that I was going to read the cards for her. I started out studying astrology. This is the gateway to the occult, in the same way that “pot” is the gateway for other more destructive drug usages.

I got a crash-course in the secrets of darkness, the moment I desired it. It seems as if all of the secrets of darkness from antiquity were downloaded into my consciousness. I “knew” about ancient civilizations, their forms of prognostications, their occultic rituals, their gods. I knew about things as far flung as “The Book of the Dead” in Egypt, to the witch queens of New Orleans and Jamaica. I knew about the persecutions of witches during the period of the “great purge.” I knew about what lies in the dark, as well as who rules in the darkness.

I used to enjoy Halloween, before I understood that it is a holiday for Satan just as Christmas is a holiday for Christ. I hate Satan’s holiday.  It is a day where satanists & wiccans alike become more powerful due to the amassing of spirits who come to do their bidding. There is a great assembly of  demons dispatched to make Halloween special for serious practitioners and thrill seekers alike. What you don’t see are the spells cast, the curses uttered, and the sacrifices performed in the name of their god. It is a dark, grizzly mess. It is on Halloween where spirits are free to roam; to torment, hinder and harrass human beings who are not protected by God. The only way to become innoculated from forces of darkness and to gain the power to overcome them when attacked, is to know Jesus Christ, and know that He and He alone  is the name which will repel them. I learned this the hard way. I have never looked back.

I am a defector of darkness. There is a great spiritual bounty upon my head. I knew the secrets of darkness and turned to the “glorious light.” For ten years after I became a Christian, I wandered in the wilderness. Over a period of fourteen years, I had accumulated a slew of demons who would do my bidding, should I require it. It took ten years for the Lord to undo the “unclean” mess which was Alice. During this wilderness time, I moved to one of the UFO capitals of the world; Arizona. It was there that I backslid into the New Age, which is basically the old occult, repackaged in holograms and crystals. Satan kept trying to get me back, to get me to use my telepathy/clairvoyance/clairaudience for him. He tried continuously to deceive me during this ten years of wilderness. There are others who think that they can call Jesus their Saviour and if their prayers are not answered quickly enough, they dabble in darkness.  They will seek out practitioners of the occult to try and effect the change they want. Most of these practitioners will do whatever curses are required for money. Others consider themselves working for God, but they are deceived.

You cannot have it both ways. This is one of Satan’s greatest deceptions. You are either God’s or you are NOT!  There are many types of demons and fallen angels are the overlords of these workers of darkness. These would be the fallen angels(principalities) which would have rule over countries, very much like in the book of Daniel, where Daniel seeks the Lord and the prince of Persia withstands Gabriel (God’s messanger) Prince Michael (head of the warring angels: the one who physically kicked Lucifer (Satan) and his followers(one third of the angels of the Lord) out of Heaven during the “great revolt.”  Satan remains legalistic. Which means that he knows the Word of God better than anyone. He knows what he and his “crew” are allowed.  The trophy for him is the utter corruption of a human being, for which he doesn’t give a fig. He just wants to deprive the Father of sons and daugthers; the very thing that Christ died for.

Satan has created many prisons upon the earth for his “chattel.” Prisons of fear, addiction, lust, hatred, violence, murder, depression, suicide. The workers of darkness will choose a target. They will then need to adjust the hearing of their human target to the frequency of angels; fallen and unfallen alike. (the high pitch frequency) Once they have done this, they can talk into the head of the target. If the target listens, they proceed to the next step which would be controlling the mind of the target. Parents would see this in dark changes of behavior in their children. The target would gravitate to anything unholy, profane and unclean. The powers of darkness need to accumulate symbols or “accursed things” within the living quarters of the target, which will give them the legal right to operate. Once they control the mind of the target, they will plant ideas of corruption. By direct command they will tell the target to steal, kill and destroy whatsoever it is that will benefit the kingdom of darkness. When a target has been “possessed” by enough dis-embodied spirits, they will become “living evil.” They will no longer be the target or victim, they will be the perpetrator. They would have become a pawn in Satan’s very elaborate scheme to prolong his days and to destroy the human species: which is God’s portion.

During the end of my “wilderness period,” where I was deceived by everything from the New Age, channeling, UFO worship and angel worship, The Lord challenged me. I was on my way to a bookstore to look up some one’s astrological chart when an young, on-fire-man-of-God spoke to me while I was looking in the occult section. He said, “What are you doing here? You know what the Word of God says about this, what are you doing here?”  I was in shock and mumbled something inadequate. He said, “God told me that you believe in reincarnation, too. You know what the Word says about it. What are you doing here?”  I was freaked out! Nobody knew that I was going to this bookstore but me and God. I figured that God wasn’t going to say anything, so I went. I never imagined an encounter of this kind.  It was the fire in this young man’s eyes and his true assertions that burdened my heart. So I had a talk with God.

I said, “Lord, I have all of this occultic knowledge in my head. What am I to do with it?”  I heard Him say, “It destroys your testimony and hinders your walk.” From that day until this, I have never backslid into the occult again. The Lord asked many things of me. One of them was to give up Tarot card reading. I was good enough to teach and I was making money by word of mouth with the cards. I said, “Yes, Lord.” I gave up Tarot cards, occultic practices (used to gain advantage) and any “graven images,” forbidden books and the practicing of numerology, palmistry and telepathic mind control.  It was after this test, that He led me to a “prophetic” church where I was taught the Word and began to operate in the gifts of the Holy Spirit. God will not mix clean with unclean.  He will  not give his gifts nor authority to anyone who thinks that they can “have their cake and eat it too.” God commands absolute faithfulness in those who call him Saviour and those who evolve enough to call him their Lord.

There you have it. I know that there are many who wonder by whose authority I speak. I can feel them. I can feel anyone whose mind is on me anywhere in the world. Occultic practitioners, don’t bother to attack me. You will find it a waste of your time, and dangerous to your health. Curiosity seekers, I hope you have your answers. Christians of all persuasions, I can only tell you about my conversion. I can only speak for myself.  I operate in the prophetic. The Lord taught me how to discern between familiar spirits and the Holy Spirit speaking to me. I keep my dial tuned to the Holy Spirit at all times. This is my only safety. I could turn to any channel and know about anything going on behind closed doors. These things are not my concern. I learned and practiced ‘spiritual warfare” for twenty-one years. There is so much more that I could say, but I will simply say this, pray to be like the sons of Issacar who had knowledge of the times and season that they were in.  If you do not know the Lord, call upon Him, whereby you will be saved from the times which are coming upon the face of the earth. Pray to be counted “worthy.”   Be still; call upon the name above all  other names.

Alice Parris

The Birthing

In my mind, at least, there seems to be some mystery surrounding my birth. I was told that I was an “un-planned birth.” This seems odd considering the birth control methods of the day; the early 1950’s. Were there planned births then?  I was also told, by my mother, that while she labored with me, my father was out buying another woman a fur coat. This seems oddly cruel. I was told that I was born premature, with weak lungs, allergies and a myrid of auto- immune problems. I had A negative blood which was problematic since both of my parents were positive. Back then, conventional medical wisdom declared this an impossibility. My older brother and sister also had negative blood types, and my mother (to this day) says that she was a nineteen-year-old virgin when she married my father. This was the generation where secrets were buried within crypts.

 Harold B Kelly,  as a physician,  set about to keep me alive. My nursery was set-up like a neonatal unit. I was fed glucose water I.V. I was allergic to everything on the planet-including milk. I was born during the time when it was extremely unfashionable to breastfeed. I was not given the benefit of the immunity -laden properties now attributed to breast milk. I could only drink whey. I was told that I lived in an oxygen tent for two years.When I say, “I was told,” it is because I have no memory prior to kindergarden. This alone has been a question on the lips of therapists and psychiatrists alike. They quickly make a notation and attribute my lack of memory to some early trauma. If that is the case, and I cannot remember such a trauma, then there is a great possibility of what can be described as a “shattered-soul” For all intensive purposes, this is just a theory that is one of many out there describing such traumatized persons. I believe, however, that I lay between life and death through my early years, and that I might have been sedated at some point because of the many invasive procedures used to keep me alive.

My sister Rhonda, became the story teller in my life. She interpreted events to me so that I could understand.  She was and still is highly itelligent and imaginative. She told me that my mother was a “white witch” and that someone had stolen our real mother. I was told to keep looking for our real mother under the beds. I grew up neither close to my mother or my father. My siblings were my only companions and my confessors of choice. When I was one, my mother, brother, sister and I sailed on the Queen Mary to meet my father in France. He was a captain stationed in Fontainbleau, France. We lived in a chateau that had formerly  belonged to some wealthy Jewish family that had been taken by the Nazis.

 This chateau became the focal point of many nightmares for me. We had two French maids; Antoinette and Louisiette. I was told by my sister that we were locked in the cellar when our parents were vacationing in Europe by the maids as they entertained their lovers. I can recall recurrent nightmares regarding fears of a black rat. Now, my sister tells me that there were only spiders in the cellar. My mother denies any dangerous or traumatic capability within an old cellar with a forlorn past. Rhonda was always the trouble -maker. She took a wooden hanger and dropped it down from the top of the winding staircase onto the head of one of the maids. My parents slowed down on their travelling after that. French was my first language since I did not leave France until the age of three. To this day, French will roll off of my lips as I stand at counters paying for groceries or services. It becomes a “hoot” when I have been given some wine. My favorite French recitation is about “Blue-beard” and his many wives. Due to frequent trips to France and studying in Montpellier during a summer session, I have a Southern twang to my French, certainly not what is considered cultured, spoken in Northern provinces like Paris.