"anima" poems
I've loved before
But back then it wasn't me who loved,
It was my anima.
The fake love
Was just my body and someone else's soul.
So then my shadows
Showed me my darkness.
My introspection
Showed me myself.
So I grew to love myself
And love as myself
No more fake love.
So here I am,
Loving all over again
But it feel like never before
I know it has happened
But this time feels like first time
Coz this time
Its not my anima in love
Its my persona in love.
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 12:10 AM UTC
I work for the machine
that bashes bastardized beauty
into the face of the masses
The status quo
of oppressing the Goddess
to some golden ratio
of ***** perfection
"We set the standards, baby"
An arrogance of man,
A battle born in blood
objectifying some sacred symbol,
The cosmic ****
we all crawled out of
as star dust
The holy hole
to heaven on Earth
Gaia taken advantage of
Rejecting the gift of consciousness
We'll de-evolve
like past-life regressions
like we're so self-entitled to
come back around
Among the cosmos
cradled in the crescent
Deny yourself the mystique of the feminine
The clashing of the anima and animus
The syzergy of
the sun
the moon
and us
Call on your angels
And submit to the psychosis
My brothers,
These are our
sisters and mothers
They don't want to castrate
The ******* symbol
Destroy the alpha male
And the omega oppression
The beginning and the end of
**** shaming
I worked for the
misogyny machinery of Moloch
My heart no longer beats here
It just bleeds for her.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 9:13 AM UTC
1.
A broken path of pleasure,
Confronts my waking mind,
Skeletons line the carpet,
The path I seek to bind.
2.
Uncertainty surrounds me,
But so the way of life,
An infant artist,
An unconscious exuberance,
The perverse I secretly entice.
3.
Duel opposition's approach in unison,
Fighting for peace with each,
The true anima hides beneath the blood,
Narcissistic emotions naked on a beach.
4.
Forbidden in reality,
The dark caves of the primal soul,
The lost murmurs of effrontery,
Tortured desires repressed explode.
………………………………………………………
May 18, 2010
May 18, 2010 at 10:34 PM UTC
I am an Otaku,
when I saw you,
I thought you will be my waifu,
on screen, pillow or games,
You still stole my heart with eroge,
you have different colors from **** to ******
but I prefer ***** in your anima,
I spend my days,
yearning for a new episode,
until that day comes, I still wait for you.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 2:09 AM UTC
Spoke to a Baphomet
Down by the willow
He was watching the moon bathe in that same river
That dissolved everything in its way
He whispered:' This is your version of Aegri somnia'
I tell him that this is not a bad dream and that
I really am shattered in thousands of pieces
And that
I came to lay my burden down
So, he offers a rope and I suddenly see a brighter season
He plays me ***** one for the shepherd none for the sheep
I asked for my own Beatrice back
she burns in a pit
9th circle - still have her knife in my back
And only then he tells me the rules-the waiting game begins only when the lights go out
But
I
Can't
See
In
The
Dark
Game over.
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 12:38 PM UTC
She danced
a symbolic grace
with a look of malice
written on her face
She cast a
lunatic eclipse
of my erratic soul
The Maiden
The Mother
The Crone
It was more than a phase
Just a glimpse into our story-lines
She was the moon
I was the son
The anima
The animus
star-crossed
in our own paths
in our own way
I crowned her in stars,
she shed the scales
from her eyes
and we met
in a fiery embrace
Heaven on Earth
aligned like syzygy,
but only for a moment
We destroyed each other,
Yet we were complete.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
A collaboration between SG Holter and Elisa Maria Argiro
Hesitating here, silent edge of this dark forest,
I look beyond me, warm in the white fog.
Seeing your heart, now residing deep within
the ancient wood, is to know it is blessed, loved.
*Silver tongue resting now in golden silence.
Palms of soul upon moss and brittle bark.
Animal song; scent of beasts approaching unafraid.
Fierce peace. The opposite of a machine.*
In the rising sap of silent trees around us,
our deeply beating pulses listen, dance,
smiling kisses at the shining stars, new planets.
Eyes open, anima and animus press tightly
And distance is no more.
*"What language is Yours,"
I ask the still growing giants of
Green.
"Silence and its sister tongues
Such as leaves dancing with the
Breeze," they reply within the
Gap between soft sounds and
Softer ones.
So we speak through breaths
Exchanged, of nothing.
Two souls afloat upon the stream
Of Union with All.
What is Cosmos,
But "home"?
Never a visitor.
Never a stranger.
Nowhere has anyone ever been
Lost, or
Away.*
Humming your essence into my veins,
in tune with the wordless languages
of green lives and wind, listening
among delicate flowers, sleeping here
on the forest floor, wakeful and awaiting
the next sound of your voiceless voice,
wind words blowing
through my long, curling hair,
feeling the intention of your
untouched touch,
at home, just being.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 2:48 PM UTC
L'anguilla, la sirena
dei mari freddi che lascia il Baltico
per giungere ai nostri mari,
ai nostri estuari, ai fiumi
che risale in profondo, sotto la piena avversa,
di ramo in ramo e poi
di capello in capello, assottigliati,
sempre piú addentro, sempre piú nel cuore
del macigno, filtrando
tra gorielli di melma finché un giorno
una luce scoccata dai castagni
ne accende il guizzo in pozze d'acquamorta,
nei fossi che declinano
dai balzi d'Appennino alla Romagna;
l'anguilla, torcia, frusta,
freccia d'Amore in terra
che solo i nostri botri o i disseccati
ruscelli pirenaici riconducono
a paradisi di fecondazione;
l'anima verde che cerca
vita là dove solo
morde l'arsura e la desolazione,
la scintilla che dice
tutto comincia quando tutto pare
incarbonirsi, bronco seppellito:
l'iride breve, gemella
di quella che incastonano i tuoi cigli
e fai brillare intatta in mezzo ai figli
dell'uomo, immersi nel tuo fango, puoi tu
non crederla sorella?
3.8k
I find myself blithely content when she's around though at times I look around and find she's nowhere to be found
Till I close my eyes and smile having seen her in my my mind.
A goddess she is indeed,especially when the corner of her lips are in motion towards her ears. I admire from a distance,she's so ideal. I crept close with my weakened knees pulled closer by the anima mundi and force of attraction in it.
She uttered words to my soul which equalised to my heart to liquidise. Though I was in vagueness with what she said,she sure could sing.
But you know what "they" say that neutral cliché "everything is temporary."I woke up. What a dream.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
She's the girl with the Bambi Eyes
Hidden behind a pair
of heart-shaped sunglasses
The ones I bought her
I like to roll her name
off the tip of my tongue
from the pit
of the fire
of my *****
Great artists steal
She took my heart
and fueled it with temptation
and had me
fullfill her wish lists
with kisses of wishful thinking
if I thought I was going
to get more than pics
Seductive
snapshots
slipping
Something beautiful
in the back of my mind for once
'cause all I see dark
things sometimes
It'd be nice to shed some light
on the situation
like I'm worthy of enlightenment
we are all one narrative
choose your own anima archetype
******
operative
word
plays
my heart like a harp
and makes life seem
more
harmonious
The more she stares me down
with
assisted
spontaneous
combustion
on her mind
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
Today I saw Picasso’s self-portraits only to realize that at 14 years of age, he painted a man 5 times as old as him, believing that it was how he looked like or at least how he sees himself. At 15, he painted a woman who, under any circumstances, does not look like him nor his mother. As he grew older, the paintings became more distorted or rather abstract and surreal that some even looked like there was more than just one person in the frame. His last painting, I assume, is a face but if you look closer you will realize that they are pieces from different puzzles, that somehow, although they fit together, they are not from just one thing – but aren’t we all are?
Picasso, consumed his days thoughtfully to paint such masterpiece that reflects who he is – that he is not just any other person, that he is not just one person. He is a combination of many, the past and present, his mother and his father, the anima and the animus – all these are parts of himself, who, when put together become the Picasso who he knows.
Picasso has mastered it ahead of us – that we are more than just a face, we are a parade of many and if we do not recognize it, we might end up painting faces we don’t know, becoming a stranger inside a home.
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 2:52 AM UTC
I cannot sleep, thinking:
I cannot give you short, bittersweet, sad, delighting, whimsical love poems.
I can give you short, bittersweet, sad, delighting, whimsical life poems.
In cold, rushing spring and river waters,
ash and water-borne soil mix.
A voyage endless.
We too, our voyage.
Endless. End less.
Examine the crevices and ravines that
are the map of your hands.
Your voyage's log, memory storage.
Indestructible.
In the clouds's moisture,
ever recycling, it is all kept, stored.
Your hands well recall
the very first caress,
the softness of the baby skin,
the sweet of the lips,
thirty some long years after.
Dare to dispute?
The original animus,
the anima and the persona combination
the byproduct of blood and tissue,
some call spirit,
some call soul,
is matter that cannot be
destroyed,
nor created.
It only voyages on,
the conservation of mass,
our body, our enlivement,
our spark.
In cold, rushing spring and river waters,
ash and water-borne soil admix.
From this natural brew, renewal.
The voyage is the resurrection
Life ever after.
Life even before.
Life for ever
lasting.
Our voyage is without destination.
Our voyage is our destination.
Our voyage is our resurrection.
Endless. Perpetual.
Eternal.
5:46 AM
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 5:50 AM UTC
once we were one, so close
now turncoat in lakes of
oleander, creeks run poison
we two betrayed
what stolen ideal cast
in stone against her?
my anima still wants love
from me, yet twists on proverbial
dime
coats were rejected
colors negated, unflown
prisoner of tumble town
chained like a queen
a shanty wish disregard
so no wings, air of nonesuch
grace barrio color to fly
in my mind, sleeping
mariachis playing loud,
my anima rescued me
real, such desert here
just my shivering id
skinned seal, bad memory
still hopeful still here
surely mi anima mi alma
will grant my dying
wish
I am the traitor of my anima
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 8:36 PM UTC
Let me breath you in, she said
Every fiber of your being
And let your soul rest in my bed
An open heart, an open mind
You thought you have seen it all
But you have been clearly blind
Her love still lingers inside of you
Run away and embrace what I am, my pleasure and pain
Stare and let me entice you with these eyes of intense blue
I am, as you see, the calmness of a flowing river; calm and tame
And I am, as others cannot see,
An uneasy ocean, with massive and violent waves
A simple, still flower in a garden of smothering weeds
While being a volcano ready for eruption
Exploding, taking you over like ancient Pompeii was to the lava sea
Posso mettere un pò di polvere di stelle nei tuoi occhi
E far entrare un pò di luce nella tua vita
Let us unite in a state of pure ecstasy
Where the world ends, and Heaven starts
Nothing else exists, and there is no more "you and me"
Swallow my body and spirit whole, and take me in
Where there are no laws of physics or society's logicality
Come into my world and leave this one of gray
We can be gods of our universal dimension
Tu sei la mia stella e l'unica cosa a cui penso sempre
Your mind touches me in all restricted places, as you feel the hot temptation
Tu sei un mistero, Tu sei un enigma,
** bisogno del tuo amore, il mio sconosciuto
Io non ti conosco, ma sento la tua anima
We are aliens from our own dreams and imaginations
I am the light and the darkness
Allow me to inhale you and your inner creations
Take me as I am and you will see
That I will heal and fill the hole in your heart
Your weakness will be replaced with love and peace
Be my melody and I will be your harmony
Let us meet in the unknown, a foreign land
Let us die and shed our skin gracefully
Let us take a walk into the infinite
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
golden threads this autumn bears
waves of thin despair at your iron door
Show Time, says Fosse, heart on the floor
when sunlit window gently flares
a crispy wind, a frivolous sunrise
oh, dance along, your fragile neck so white
Show Time, says Fosse, aglow with light
please, dance with me, and look into my eyes
golden threads this autumn bears
in every leaf, in every grain of dust
Show Time, says Fosse, it's my final lust
melancholy's dripping venom deadly glares.
"Autunno, se vuoi cogliere la frutta della mia anima, ti prego di non esaurire ancora il sole, il filo d'oro della vita, il filo d'oro della danza." - Gianluca Masi, known as the Dancing Alchemist, Firenze, the second half of the XVI-th century
Nov 4, 2021
Nov 4, 2021 at 6:25 PM UTC
Hello Eve
I Am Man
let me MANipulate you
make you MINE
Helen of Troy,
I held you on high
Put the *****
on a pedestal
Mary,
divinity in the
mirror, mirror
objectification
of my own reflection
Sophia,
Set my soul on fire
sex-trafficked my heart
into art
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
Tempus Fugit:
Nought is eternal,
Nox is ephemeral,
And
The Charred Canvas
Of
The Night Sky
(Noctis Lucis Caelum,
Scala Ad Caelum)
Bedarkened & besmirched, bespeaks
A
Love-Worn Wayward, Wayworn.
In the
Citadel
Of mine
Temporal Heart
Time
Streams infinitely
As an
Exhalation of The Ethereal One.
The Chronology of
The Arbiter of Fates
Shalt Destine,
Herald Eternitas
Upon
The Phantasmagoric Horizon
Of
Mine Mind's Sky
Wondering
Upon
Days of Yore.
(The Hither,
The Thither,
And
The Morrow.)
These
Luminescent Children are
Are born
To wax Luminaries
Then,
Wax Nebulous
For all eternity.
O, Metempsychosis;
Born of
Edicts Unseen,
Of that
Which was,
Is,
&
Will Be.
(For
All things
Are
Circular & Cycling,
Existentially.)
We were conceived
Infinitely
To
Infinity
And beyond.
Let He, Let She
Whose
Ears & Eyes
Of
The Unuttered Anima
Be unstopped, unfurled
To resonations:
Deep within.
The Emerald Lifestream Anew
Dost begin.
The Sovereign of Songbirds sings
Esprit d' amour
To those who wait.
(Se' Lah.)
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 5:21 PM UTC
Trembles commence beneath the exterior
An eruption blacker than a hollow wails superior
All light alienates,
Obscured by manifested immorality
Only spared by vast vitality
Virtuousness defended,
Intended to liberate slaved maliciousness
Autonomy of the anima was the consequence
A union through yielded yin and panged yang existence
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 8:57 AM UTC
Manic Pixie Dream Girl,
I'm sorry I slaughtered
Your sweet-heart
You tasted like
electro-magnetism
when I pulled
the sword from inside you
like ******* symbolism
In an anti-synchronistic
fashion
I lured you in
Led you on and
broke the law
of attraction
It was supposed to slay the dragon
not the anima
All you wanted was
to make me feel alive
without drugs.
I gave into temptation
And let the patriarchal door
Of oppression
Smack your ***
on the way out
The fire of my *****
went to my head
And I killed chivalry dead
Long live debauchery
You just wanted to be
the light of my life
Now it's the shadow
And I
******* in light
of your bloodshed.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
floral effervescence
wafts around you
thy theo black temperament rose iq
ushers lulabies as playful amor kru
apollo is falling for the aquamarine
rays, reflecting the sea's craved ardour
and our love is like a cyclamen oleandro
the fascinating, dissolving, poisonous sleep
inwardly unaware of the whitest clouds oro
seducing the beauty of a ceruelan absolute ~
if i were the wave i would foam your dream
if you were a black panther i'd be your kaa
for a day to experience your mighty paws
to tremble like open window shutters, strickened
by the fire, by light, by thunderbolt's love flame
oh, come on, come on sweet man of the fantasia
i've got to tell you i ain't foolin' around those dim
alleys at nights like this; luscious calls lure hello
at least, hear my hearts deepest throbbings, hear
them, embrace them, conquer my world's cream
taste the strawberry sweeteness on a tip of me, u
trickle your tongue against my open buoyancy
write kaligrafic words of love's invisible tint
beautify the untouched pergament, maestro
write like there's no time nor tomorrow's no;
inaugure every christmas crickets flash mob
within you and awaken me from a slumber,
deeply rooted, lovely and mild as wood's chi
and I will cherish you, praise and love long
forgotten wild forest's animals as panacea
for the dissolving salt upon a love wound
which torchered your solitude for who's
pleasure, for what reason, for a slick slap
of an epic trustful faith as lux aeterna
crashing the myth of a love superior;
a desolation of waning touches soma
hiding its fragility in madmind's attempt
to overcome what's earth's given inferno;
to die in a lustful blazing heat of creatio
contemplating about heavenly key lock
how to forge a golden key to your anima,
gracefully giving a hand to her emperor
to dance on a verge of an existence' folie
to blossom upon hushed world's meridian
in dreamy space n' time, first darlin' flush
the prime animus dances, dares, waters~
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 3:50 PM UTC
I keep seeing her
in post-traumatic
flashbacks
back to back
she's bound
in a little
black dress
Tearing through
the mayhem
the mosh pit
of my mind
To save me
Some punk princess
archetype
always
in another castle
castrating
the *******
symbol
Because she's
'O so liberated
...So I decorated her
With a pearl necklace
Old patriarchal
habits
die hard
Honey
Sweet
Nectar
Ambrosia
Summoned
from my
sacral chakra
Come
my
Goddess
Come
my
Goddess
Come
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 5:39 PM UTC
Bacio che sopporti il peso
della mia anima breve
in te il mondo del mio discorso
diventa suono e paura.
1.8k
**Intolerant feet of clay
shout out “Not Him!“
echoing, ignored
Life’s cathartic poetry
now mediates extrovert ideas
and introvert intuitions
Past’s flicker of persona masks
solicit with anima driven darker roles
remote and mysterious - not nice
Real now, not reflecting her animus
all becomes stilled and naked, to seek
that physical and spiritual soul mate
Jung’s bucket plumbs the black well
awash from hidden depths of creativity
and kindred ghost’s of spirituality
Change is loss then change - feeds
thy growth’s capacity for understanding
socket of creativity and enlightenment
Life’s tutored process of intelligence
responds elegantly to image and symbol
as a morality conducts the minds music
Babbling on to sip from the well
gains tested may then help others
Ghost glimpsed not genius or mad
spirituality and love held close**
.
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 10:04 AM UTC
Don't listen to me, I'm a copy too
I'm nothing that should be considered original
I'm nothing worth building a statue over
I'm nothing that can't be replaced
If I get hit by a bus
Just pull someone else of the street
Put them in my clothes
You'll hardly notice the difference
I think my parents will like someone they won't have to feel guilty towards
They ******* me up
They know it, too
My brother'll like someone that's not trying to put him down all the time
I'm still in the process of ******** him up
He knows it, too
You could all just throw my dead, stinking, toxic body in the back
Feed me to the dogs
Let's mosey in the other extreme, let's say I'm unique
Or you are
They won't let us be different
If the commonwealth start listening
They'll **** us
Out of fear
What else they can do?
If we threaten them with consciousness among the masses
We got to go
It's nothing personal
I'll never have a Swan Song day
I'll never have a woman that I love
I'll never get to die peaceful in bed
I won't get to see the kids I never had grow up
But I'll have the benefit of having the memory of a fresh life
Doesn't sound like we have much of a choice, does it?
Conform, jump through the hoops, sell our soul, give yourself up
Or you live your life not giving in
And they decide you can't stick around
You're given the people funny ideas
I'm sure they'll **** you or me
If we're too free
They already got rid of Bobby, John and Martin
I guess that's why Jerome went into hiding
He gave too much hope and courage to people
You can either rot from the inside
Or you die young
Because, maybe one way or another they get you
I like to believe they don't though
Imagine this, as you lay bleeding from the three holes in your chest
With that last word of hope or love or divinity or whatever you want to call it on your lips
You sit and you think
It was all worth it
I don't regret anything
Because
Unlike them
I can still taste her lips
Unlike them
I can still hear the music
Unlike them
I can still see the endless fields of rye, the forests, the amazons, the rivers, the mountains
Unlike them
My eyes still smile
Unlike them
I laugh
Unlike them
I dance to my own music
And as the blood that retains it's anima leaves my veins
I smile
Because I'm not like them
And I realize
So I'm grateful
And I notice
All the little scared people look so cute in their mislead, unshaped, self-righteous indignation
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 1:15 PM UTC
Ich hasse mich um dich zu lieben,
immernoch in so vieler Wegen;
nicht dass es eigentlich so schlecht ist,
nur dass du mir nicht mehr lecker bist,
jedoch, wegen Erinnerung,
hab ich keine Wahl doch zu schmecken.
Ich hatte gedacht du warst meine Anima.
Falsch gedacht.
Du hattest gesagt ich war deinen Animus.
Falsch gesagt.
Jetzt hasse ich mich um diese Restliebe;
Du wohnst noch in Gedanken und Träume..
Ein Paar sind ja süßlich,
doch sind andere bitter.
Wir sprechen mehr in Träume als in Realität,
auch in der Alpträume... als der Alpträume.
Ich würde gern dich nicht mehr lieben.
Wenn es nur so einfach wäre!
Jetzt hasse ich mich um diese Restliebe,
Krankheit, ob ich es je geschmeckt habe.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 4:37 AM UTC