Long Archetypes Poems
Long Archetypes Poems. Below are the most popular long Archetypes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Archetypes poems by poem length and keyword.
That blasted recurring dream!
Time after time, the lair appeared;
and he was a huge movie star,
but I couldn’t recall his name.
The teasing, taunting, lying jerk;
night after endless night,
he haunted my subconscious;
making and breaking promises,
that I seemed to crave hearing, from him.
I couldn’t understand,
why I kept having that blasted dream;
I don’t even know that,
he was a real star;
he was in the dream, though.
Now, dreams have a funny way,
of presenting archetypes;
mind came up with some…doozies.
Imagine my surprise,
when I realized that,
he was me;
deceiving myself.
October 21st 2007
Thoughts – Moneca .
The past has come around to dominate again.
It has brought me into a lesser place then before.
Upon wings of time’s passing, drift memories, ecstasies, experiences of joy to delight – light up my soul, fill my empty, fragile heart with lost hopes and dreams.
Gloomy days have befallen us, darker days upon me.
Those beautiful sunny days, seemed to have faded away.
Dreams of closeness have faded into a reality you create.
The dream has become lost, in what has been left behind,
now the essence for a reality that has become the present.
Fear my Dear
Fear has become a long, lonely, dark tunnel
I walk you, with thoughts that leave me alone,
on my own as you take us back to where
I feel, as if I am no more then a substitute
for those empty hours that come to your days,
when the thoughts of a Mr. Right, a Prince Charming,
Mr Pseudo Intellectual, Mr. Elegant are insufficient
and your current pursuer, man of interest, is not available.
The man you’d respect, appreciate, give yourself to, the man you’d love, – none existent in this reality, the man you desire.
B. J. "A" 2
October 21st 2007
My Dear Moneca :
I have done many times and will again, lay my ego down upon the sacrificial alter in order for it to be the girders of a bridge upon which you may cross over the abyss, the black hole, the seas of uncertainty, the quagmire of fears created from so many negative experiences that continually creep into the mind of your days, from a past, now long passed – experiences that have created beliefs, dogmas, paradigms, archetypes, control .
This I have done – laid my ego aside, to rest – and will continue to do so, for you, because I care, because doing so is my nature, my desire to see you rise up and fly above all that has brought you down, brings you down, hold you back. This I, freely, do for you, with all my heart, soul and love, in order to support, even if I should never know, feel or reap the benefits because you have chosen to give to another .
My ego – I want to be the wings upon which you fly to freedoms light, even though you do not believe nor believe in me .
Love
Bill .
**Human Hyenas**
Since the dawn of humanity, the narrative surrounding creation has often placed Adam at the center, positioning him as the architect of the enchanting yet elusive Garden of Eden. However, this romanticized view glosses over a fundamental truth: many women became disillusioned with the carefree dispositions and laid-back attitudes that men often exhibited. Over time, this disconnect led to a collective realization among women; they became increasingly frustrated with behaviors that stifled desire and intimacy in their relationships.
Now, in hindsight, it seems that the damage has been done—too many grievances accumulating without sufficient efforts to mend them. Our world, vibrant and diverse, belongs to all of us, representing a tapestry woven from various perspectives and experiences. It transcends the simplistic archetypes of the average Tom, Dick, and Harry. However, the mutual respect that once characterized interactions between men and women has eroded, giving way to a reality where the notion of a man's dominion—founded on outdated theatrical standards—is no longer viable.
Instead, we find ourselves navigating a tumultuous landscape, rife with chaos and confusion, where differing mental attitudes and perspectives collide. In this fractured society, phrases like "I was here first" echo with divisiveness,
otherwise called book of wisdom
with its teachings and archetypes
laws and lessons as relevant today
as they were hundreds of years ago
history repeating itself
human nature being what it is
the mysteries of mankind’s experience unveiled
come to light in a cycle of repeated patterns
by candlelight the epochs blurred
here hovers an air of timelessness
in a rite of fire and intent
tarot cards neutralized and purified
wafts of frankincense roam the air
with much reverence my hands reaching
in a moment of silence and bonding
i invite the cards to imbibe my energy
the ritual of unwrapping their silk shield
while wafts of sage continue to disperse
revealing archaic symbols etched
adorning twenty-one major arcana
a hopeful silence for secrets divulged
in soothing stillness the old soul listens
shedding universal light on both past and future
mostly to understand ours and human nature
AP: 2nd place 2026, 2nd place 2023, 3rd place 2020
Shadow Play
While Freud sits at the mind end of the couch phallus in hand
shapes others’ dreams in unspoken imposition ‘must-abation’
analyses abuses his daughter in metaphorical incest projects
his own aggressive sexual drives and neurotic megalomania
Jung after killing the father figure sits with and under shadows
gathers the zenith of clouds rays collects collective conscience
unconsciousness retrieves ancient symbols propagates mythical
archetypes to archetypical conclusions reflects tainted sunshine
He forges gently I surmise poles and vaults of contradictions
opposites polar juxtapositions seemingly un-mutual mysteries
and ponders light and darkness tearing torn apart thus healing
in the complementing contrast of void change completeness
Where Freud posits polymorph perversity bit by sexual bitter
sweet bit in a bid for so called science of mind over matter Jung
morphs perpetual change crafted and cast through a different
lens admits to poetic licence narration oral traditions and growth
******** in mind not of the ***** castrated in fear not envious of
phallic dominance over clitoral defence wombs groomed entombed
by guilt transgression sexual submission shallow **** oral penile
ossification of flaccid resurrection Jung begs and offers to differ
In complex incomplete never-ending search a path from change to
change and beyond dialectical synthesis played enacted in parallel
processes and progressive psychological drama of a different kind
he much kinder more reflective less regressive and adventurous
Lets shadows erect and paint play dance reflect and move on
16th August
Oh sing yon violin upon your strings
and play harps and lutes melodious things
come sooth my soul and for our losses
and shatter pain upon our bed of mosses
Dost thou dare to stay our hearts entwined
do cast your light and airy within our mind
so also to our agony do make us blind
where in time we shall life kinder find
Do misdirect my thoughts upon a fairer course
lead me now away from paths remorse
fail not to impart joy and from its source
and to the courts whats odious I do divorce
and there expire bitterness and mans afflictions
unto the burial sites with their benedictions
the ends of tribulations on the morrow
as I have some aspersion to this sorrow
Come twist your ropes do wrap in harmony
the golden strand in archetypes that be
fluid in the cups elixir we do drink
to shelter from woe and misery we sink
Clasp the inner man intone your song
return to us the living among our throng
embrace the consolation and hold whats dear
for upon us all this place draws ever near
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
The stranger is strange, pariah, leper sounds offbeat,
Neither truculent, nor relevant, all destined to encounter the doomed relic;
The bizarre outlander, alien to stimulate the instant pulse-beats!
The uninvited hobnobber, one despises to welcome in routine frolic.
The stranger is unsolicited, the object of latent fear,
As strange may be the ways of the unbidden ones' intentional cares!
The stranger is unfaithful: weird to tranquility, comfort and cheer,
For the sceptical one, we become anxious by a mere fateful encounter!
The stanger lies in our conscience; in a distant land in paradoxical disguise.
Masquerade, the image generates an uncanny fear to sigh!
Sounds delinquent to subjugate the wires of prudent conscience!
Nonetheless, cogitates as usurper of peace; an ineffable parti pris.
Self-centred, they are loquacious, spell bound like con stars;
Babbles from the masks, camouflages as the epitomes of pretenders.
Unknown, unfamiliar, stirs alarms not to mingle, to be away, to be cautious.
In disguise, comes the alleged stanger to ruin ones' peace to shudder and shatter.
But the most alarming of all preconceived archetypes, are the strangers:
Who lingers on, as routine friends and well wishers,
On whom we doted on, are the real dear strangers,
Who by feigning friends, acted quisling, an obvious stranger!
'Hold!' sometimes left us dumbfounded with their insensible fickle deeds;
Even when the unknown stanger might spare and stand by us in awful needs!
When our intimate ones deny to wink at the distress;
While busy in spilling the beans, our woes go unnoticed by the feigned well-wishers.
Indeed! They are the untagged apparent strangers, fugitives in our trials.
Beware of those strangers, whom we adore as near and dear ones, 'bosom friends,'
the agnates and cognates, to entitle the crown, “an actual stranger" who elopes in tmes of miseries!
All Rights Reserved © Silpika Kalita
In an incandescent wood luminous poppies offer
guidance to travelers; tree limbs dance in
syncopation to universal rhythms.
Fireflies shed their phosphorescence
among the flora.
I walk here in radiant beams of enlightenment.
Gathering gemstones; dream time baubles
of esoterica for I am first, a spirit.
Hearts of lavender and rubies
sing out their wisdom in archetypes
of eternity’s cultivation.
I secret it all away in my backpack
and return with a smile to mortal reality.
I have heard the voice of the flowers,
smelled the sweet scent of the Universe
and danced to the refrains of cosmic elation.
Inspiration comes from unnamed realms
and rests upon the ethers...
grasp your share.
A tangerine moon glides across the sky;
I am enamored, of its beauty.
Twilight expires and gives way to dreamtime enchantments.
A color swirl opens the door;
behind it lay monsters.
Faces shape shifting into familiar friends,
are more than archetypes;
they are swimmers in unconscious waters.
The etheric ocean holds many secrets,
possessing great wisdom;
both a deadly and holy place;
here we all must come.
The mortal, is a perpetually swinging
pendulum with no course.
The soul is a traveler of realms unseen by mortal eyes;
a journeyman; his life gathers much to live by;
success is all around us.
Mortality is a soul’s prison;
it’s up to everyone to parole themselves.
In freedom, we grow; we help others grow.
The temple is within;
the library is free;
never closing its doors.
To grow and progress a soul has no choice,
but to read, each night.
When Mother Moon sleeps,
she brings new miracles into the coming nights;
how I do love to sleep.
3-27-2021
ALL YOURS (Mar 28) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
New archetypes are rising, whispering among shadows and unspoken dreams,
You are not "too sensitive" or "too intense," you are simply remembering a nameless role,
A role that takes shape now, in this era of memory and rediscovery,
Where the frequencies of the soul rise, dancing in harmony with the universe.
The Timeline Weaver heals by braiding timelines, not bypassing them,
The past, present, and future respond to their conscious choices,
The Code Whisperer translates frequency into art, sound, and expression,
Creating works that awaken dormant memories in others, sparking new beginnings.
The Grid Tender feels the Earth like an old and dear friend,
Not only visiting sacred places but weeping with them,
Remembrance comes through reverence, through a deep connection with the soil,
The Soft Disruptor doesn't fight to be heard, but their existence destabilizes illusions.
The Shadow Synthesizer doesn't bypass darkness but dances with it,
Alchemizes pain into wisdom without shame, transforming everything,
The Veil Threader brings truth from thin places, where visions seem like déjà vu,
The Frequency Anchor doesn't preach or force, their presence alone changes reality.
The Mirror Guide reflects your truest self without judgment,
One conversation with them and you are never the same, you change profoundly,
You may not be all of them, but if one touches you deeply, it's because you are one,
Or you are becoming one in this New Age of Remembrance and self-discovery, in light.