O BLACK ANGEL

New Angel Wings by Shadavar-Stock

New Angel Wings by shadavar-stock

 

O black angel, 

spread your wings for me.

Deliver me from ghosts and rattling chains,

chants, haunts, and roots, sinking at the bayou’s bottom.

 

The past with its dried hope and magnolia,

now long-gone; a shattered mirror of forlorn days.

 

O black angel,

spread your wings

upwards and outwards; sweep from

paradise to heaven. where grass grows emerald,

springing back past the walking on it.

To where joy-filled winds speak mysteries of the ages.

 

O black angel,

spirit me away to where

gates of pearl open onto streets of gold, like glass.

 

O black angel,

Uphold me in your massive hands.

Let me look into your piercing eyes, and

see beyond the boundaries of man’s comprehension.

To that place of magnificent, peerless beauty.

 

O black angel,

carry me in your wings.

Take me to that place where I might

see His body, bloodied and pierced for me.

Behold His face and kiss His nail-scarred hands.

 

 

By Alice Parris

 

 

I CRY ON SUNDAYS

Photography By Stony River/AU

Photography by Stony River/AU

I CRY ON SUNDAYS

I can hear the clickity-clack of the many
perfectly-heeled miniature leather shoes,

the swishing of multi-tiered dresses, the carrying
of tiny pocketbooks.  Young men swim in suits,

wear pressed ties from a sealed storage bin.

They are perfectly coiffed as they enter into
the house of reason, malfeasance or treason.

There, where the bell tolls, widows clutch their
pocketbooks, careful of ordained pickpockets.

I watch indifferently, with red puffy eyes

I remember my own personal losses:
losses without funerals.  I cry on Sundays.

Post-congregation parties gather at their local eateries,
in their Sunday’s best.  There, they down syrup-laden
pancakes in hedonistic abandonment.

Bellies are filled to the brim in this ritual,
this careless mocking of starving masses.

I watch with a soul-sadness so deep
that it cannot be named.  I could let out a howl,

but my Maker already understands.  Tears of
flesh-eating rain pour like rivers when

I cry on Sundays.

 

Alice Parris, Nashville, Tennessee

*First published in the Ann Arbor Review

MERCURIAL AMULETS

Image

Photograph by Stony River/AU

 

Mercurial amulets melting, flowing lava-like towards
unknown paths. What was once feared is now desired
for its mesmerizing beauty and quick-silver movement.

Fickle are the minds that must be titilated by blowing
winds, ever moving in directions unseen, unknowable.

Just as dangerous are the minds that will never change.

Time, the great mystery, is but a purveyor of fortune;
blessing or cursing.  Hours march as disciplined soldiers.

Minutes heal or slay victims who do slumber; whisking
away to other realms those who will never escape sleep.

Yet, a moment of decision  is the seed capable of glory.

 

 

Alice Parris

 

WINTER’S CLAW

Photography by Stony River/AU

Photography by Stony River/AU

Winter’s claw
tears at the melancholy nature.

Soot-branches
are ragged, uninvited guests.

Winter’s full moon
denies love’s ample bosoms.

Winter’s night;
the dark gift stealing meadows.

Obsidian-cold
mounts marble grave-stones.

Alice Parris

CANNIBAL MOTHER

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CANNIBAL MOTHER

Your tail sweeps & lashes, gathering the children
you once suckled. It was you who caused the world
to see their beauty & magnificence because of the

justice embodied by your celebrated statue of liberty.

They were proud of their mother, who was hailed
throughout the earth. Your laws were righteous.
Your children fought wars to protect you, cannibal
mother. Their sweat spilled while tilling your grounds.

Little did they know, that you would seek out each
wounded child for a bloody sacrifice at the altar of
your new, strangely-twisted, lethal, grinding-jaws

Virtue departed as your lips parted to shred your own
children. Surely, you had tricked them into thinking
themselves safe from your newly carniverous appetites.

What do you have to show for your once opened arms &
suckled breast? You have sunk to the ground, with scales
like the leviathan; a Biblical creature of fear and loathing.

Skies cry in torrents for you, cannibal mother. None else
will. All the world watches as you cannibalize yourself. No
civilized society can chew up & swallow their own progeny.

Now, your fierce, scaled children slither reptilian-like upon

your grounds, and you are no longer a beacon of light to the
world. You will not take your blood-thirst to another planet.
Higher intelligence withstands you. You are considered a virus,

now, cannibal mother. You are not welcome anywhere else.

Alice Parris

PALIN’S FINGERPRINTS

Fingers in the powerful’s pies
from one end of the country
to another. America’s  Siberia

declared too confining for an
ascending star. Always there

to whisper into the ear of the
next person who will implode.

Chameleon by nature.
Save McCain today. Tomorrow,
ride with the Tea Party Express.

Not rattled when fingerprints
are spread with cribnote-palms.
No shame. No shame.

Spin, spin , spin
deny, deny, deny
lie, lie, lie…

Palin’s fingerprints.

Cunning figurehead
strategist who pulls down
 
her own allegiances by
virtue of her idiotic advice.

Just ask Jan Brewer
about the advice of Palin.

What?  Arizona collapsed;
all business came to a halt?

What do you expect?
She sleeps with a successionist.

Never try to corner Palin.
Teeth barred,
you’ll suffer more than

Palin’s fingertips.

divide, divide, divide
deflect, deflect, deflect.
destroy, destroy, destroy.

Touted as clever-
made millions off of the
backs of the believing faithful.

CSI: follow the money-
it is awash with fingerprints…
 
Palin’s fingerprints.

 

Alice Parris

PAINFUL CRIES OF THE EAGLE

 

I hear the painful cries

of the eagle, in trouble,

atop mountainous, leafy domain.

Could these distressed sounds

signal talons, wings & beaks;

fettered, clipped, broken?

 

Blue-sprayed skies pushed aside

by crematory-colored storm clouds.

Lemon-sun forsaken.

The eagle cries;

squeezes out gods of greed

upon the altars of the needy.

 

Reptillian eyes of dark lords

wax brilliant, yellow-topaz

watching life-blood drip upon

crocodile-cracked, earth crevices.

 

The bone shattering cries

of the eagle are being heard

above the level of humankind.

 

We are in the season of the

separation of wheat & tares;

angels have been assigned

to stamp our expiration dates.

 

Cease from all quarrels.

May heaven help us all.

 

Alice Parris

LOVE VERSES

 

CONSUMED

Imperial flame
Fire of Love,
Torch me
Till I am
Comsumed…

Urn-clad ashes
Memorial remain:
Love’s sacrifice
Immortal.

Alice Parris 

THE GATHERER

I gather
Your
Facial
Expressions
And
Gestures
As
Crumbs,
I
Myself
Becoming
An
Ant,
Pull apart
And
Drag
From
My
Memory
Every
Morsel.

I have
Stored
Them
For the
Time
Of
Famine
To
Come.

Then,
I
Will
Feast
Upon
The
Shape of
Your eyes
And become
Satisfied
With
The fullness
Of
Your lips.

Alice Parris 

RENDEZVOUS ETERNAL

There is
A sweet spot
Of melting,
Coming together.
No need
For words
We just
Enter in
You and me
Into the
Sweet spot
That is
Our love.
Unspoken
Arena
Where
Oneness
Reveals
Itself
As the
Soul’s
Master.

Let us
Therefore
Once again
Immerse
Ourselves
Into
The Mystery
Of oneness…
Let us go
Quickly
Then,
My beloved
That we may
Enter into
Our
Rendezvous
Eternal.

Alice Parris 

THROUGH TIME
AND SPACE

Through time
And space
I will
Come to you.
When you
Send for me,
I will come.
No evil
Spoken
Of you
Shall stick
To my heart,
For love you
I will
Always.

No heinous
Plot to
Separate us
Shall ever
Secure my
Consent.
To deny you
Is to deny
Myself.
If we fail,
It shall
Not be
Because
I would not
Love you.

Through time
And space
I will
Come
To you.
There are
No partitions
That can
Separate
Those with this
Kind of love.

Alice Parris 

FUTURE PERFECT

Somehow
My timing
Is off
By one
Or more
Degrees
To the
Left
Or to
The
Right.
I cannot
Tell
Which.
I know
You are an
Important
Person
In my life
In a
Future perfect.
But…
My time
Has not
Yet come.
I cannot
Reach you.

Alice Parris                                                               THE TWO SIDES OF YOUR LOVE

Your love
Is like
A
Creme
Brulee
Served
On
Silver
Tray
Carried
By
White-
Gloved
Hands
With
Red rose
Bud
In
Place
In a
Lalique
Vase.

Your love
Is like
A
Dark-
Chocolate
Truffle
Filled
With
Tears:
Bittersweet
And
Difficult
To eat. 

Alice Parris

YESTERDAY’S FEAST

It was
Night
When
I knew
You did not
Love me.
It was not
The harlot
Nor exotic
Creature
Who held
You…
Twined in
Her lush
Tresses.
It was
Memories
Too Painful
To bury,
Places
Too
Tender
To touch
I stood
Outside:
A beggar
Viewing
A feast
That had
Been eaten
By the
Ghost of
Yesterday
Past. 

Alice Parris

MY HEART

My mind,
My mind
Is a
Sampson
With
Waist-
Length
Hair.

My body,
My body
Is an
Aphrodite
With
Luscious
Snare.

My spirit,
My spirit
Is an
Eagle
Powerful
And
Rare.

My heart,
My heart
Is a
Little girl
With
No one
To care.

Alice Parris

CONTRITE COURTESAN

I cannot
Let you
Touch me;
Your power
Is mighty
As you
Wield it
Towards
My open
Heart.
I cannot
Let you
Touch me,
For I am
Mortal
And
I fear
Annihilation.
I cannot
Let you
Touch me
With your
Magic words
And your
Skillful hands.
I cannot
Let you
Touch me,
For my
Heart
Is a
Contrite
Courtesan,
A penitent
Mistress. 

Alice Parris

LOST ULYSSEUS

Too many
False gods
Have
Separated
Us…
Too
Many
Journeys
With
Shard-
Laden roads,
Too many
Days
Of
Waiting.

A Penelope
Hopeless
Has
Rendered
Love
A lost
Ulysses.
Alas,
My love,
My desired
Destiny,
The gods
Of love
Have
Separated
You
And 

Alice Parris

WHEN YOU LOVED ME

When you loved me
I was as a spirit
Set on high,
Soaring at will.
No currents
Could override
The strength
You gave these
Wings of mine
When you loved me.
I was light
And love;
I was music
And muse.
Life at its
Cruelest had
Become beauty
Itself…
When you loved me.

It was then
My eyes beheld
The ill-fated
Piece…
Unraveling the
Lower side of truth:
I understood that
The perfection of
An exquisitely
Adorned world
With all of its
Sumputousness
Was reality
Only when reflected
In your eyes…
When you loved me. 

Alice Parris

THE CITADEL

I have spent my years
A citadel, locked up,
Impenetrable…
Where only fools or
The stout of heart
Dare to gain access
To my inner recess:
A fortress fortified with
Wise walls of protection.
Total devastation
Was not possible.
Neither love nor hate
Could access the
Inner sanctum of
My sanctuary
Where all life
Began and resides…

You came offering
Me love so pure,
So splendid,
So
Noble in character,
That my citadel
Became a living
Breathing wall where
The exchange was made.
You touched me in my
Impenetrable place.
I wept at the way
You loved me.
I wept…
Relieved 

Alice Parris

LOOKING OUT FROM
COLD MOUNTAIN

Tourmaline-
Green silk damask
Curtains hang heavily
From the weight of dust mites,
Entrenched
Yet undetected.

Cobwebs in the corners;
Like lonely Ghosts.

Neatly mounted gold rings
Part the curtains into shoulders:
Golden braided epaulettes.

Diffused sunlight
Streams through dirt-caked windows.
She sits at her piano.

She has found true love,
Arriving at truth
By unenviable longing.

She wonders if she can will
Him to live, if her need
Will bring him back.

There is a fire
In the portals
Of her soul: a hot-blue flame.

The dark world of death,
Staved off by the notes of a
Life-song.

There is hope,
Looking out from Cold Mountain. 

Alice Parris


DARK VERSES

POCKETS OF EVIL

Sinister, snickering,

Spinning, plotting

Destruction.

Awaiting

the unsuspecting.

Venomous lusts

For wrongdoing

Fulminate.

Arising passions

Secrete hatred

And violence,

Unable to contain

This unbridled

Propensity

For evil,

Awaiting

Some passer-by

Traveling unaware

Through a

Pocket of evil:

Sojourners beware!

 

ECLIPSE OF THE SOUL

Each day

Passes

Disappointment;

Like pieces

Of lead

Chained

To a man

Fated

To drown

From the

Weight.

Every day

I die,

Not with

Nobility;

I die

Kicking,

Screaming,

Cursing.

Alongsisde

My dreams:

Fallen

Like

Dead flies.

WHAT SPELL?

What

Spell

Have you

cast

Upon me

Oh,

Mortal

Man?

What lies

In shreds

Is my

Heart:

My cup

Now bloody,

Empty

Of wine

To ease

The pain.

VISION AT THE TOMB

Gray figures

Move like

Zombies,

Lost souls

Shuffling

As though

On Thorozine.

There is

No need

For the

sound

Of chains

To know

That these

Are prisoners.

 

SOUNDS OF THE LOCUSTS

Mutant summer

By reason of

Divine decree;

World devourers

Loosed

For a season.

No blade

Of grass

Shall remain

Once we hear

the sounds of

The locusts.

 

CATACLYSM

Violent seizures

Convulse our universe,

Taking place

When our earth

Belches upheaval,

Violent change.

the world starts

Reeling out of control,

Staggering as a

Drunken man

Helpless

In the wake

Of some

Cataclysmic event.

 

GNARLED BRANCHES

Gnarled,

tortured

Branches,

Growing

Upwards,

Brushed

With gold.

Hiding

Earth’s

Drab

Olive dress:

Surrealistic

By contrast,

Futuristic

By design.

What place

Have the

Amongst

Orchid

Centerpieces?

 

Alice Parris

 

These poems were taken from my book,

Soulgasm: the journal of my life in cryptic verses

with its visions, dreams and fleeting revelations.

These prophetic poems were written in 1993.

Our world has now lived some of these verses.

SILENCED VOICES SPEAK

                                

 

 



THE MOTHER OF MANY NATIONS

She moved with the ease of a queen
Causing dis-ease among those who
Demanded that true queens wore crowns
Of encrusted jewels.  Her bracelets and anklets
Were of rusted iron, making clinking noises with
Each melodic step that she took. Her neck was
Long and graceful, having been lengthened by
Many a metal collar.

She walked with hips swiveling under crude sack
Cloth; as if she still balanced baskets upon
Her head and babies upon her back.
This sensual hip movement proved to be more than
Enticing as evidenced by the drunken nightly forays
Into the slave quarters which produced yellow babies,
Who carried their master's loads, if not their names.

She had a proud head wrapped with turbans made from
The nothingness of her life; a scrap of this and a scrap
Of that.  She walked proudly and if one could but listen,
They, too, could hear the tinkle of golden bells upon her
Ankles and see elaborate charm bracelets upon her wrists.

If they could but see, they would behold a bejeweled crown
Of pure gold and a treasury of flawless African diamonds.
If they could but see, her dusty calloused feet were shod
In the finest badger's skin, and her sack cloth garment
Transformed into the most magnificent purple and gold
Embroidered robe. She would finally be able to sit down on the
Throne prepared for her of leopard skin which merely covered
A foundation of solid gold.

If only they could see, they would have looked into her
Dark-brown, ageless eyes, seen centuries of silent suffering
Borne only by the great.  They would have understood that only
This queen could have possibly rocked the cradle of 
Civilization from which all nations are said to have emerged.
Alice Parris
Artwork By Artist Nancy Grace
Silenced Voices Speak published in India by cyberwit.net