Short Archetype Poems
Short Archetype Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Archetype by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Archetype by length and keyword.
Locks untangled slide freely over life giving, affirming white glow.
The indentation along the spines contours,
head moved forward, leant, exposed nape,
the very essence of, in archetype.
Repulsed this heat's passion
Fanned a face, from off.
In diving, less demure
When half one's clothes doff!
Snubbed, scorned this archetype
Of burning kisses
From under leafed bough. Whilst
His, never misses!
ORIGINAL ARCHETYPE-:-
slightly
distractedly
dreaming
novel
beginnings
in a STATE of INNOCENT
locked
barred
paradiscal
serene
garden
back to A FUTURE
discovered
explored
ultimate
yearning
goal
Great Goddess
In fertile essence you were shaped
Upon your head
ambiguous braids were draped;
Breasts as mountains
Belly the great giver of life
Monthly cycle an ocher fountain
Created from ancestral strife
Venus of Willendorf
30,000 year old
Archetype Matron
of Mother Earth
Corpulent bestower
Of genesis and birth.
How dependent are we on language,
for the expansion of our minds
Each word a crucial building block,
an archetype sublime
Can we think outside our diction,
would our thoughts release and form
Or would truth and beauty, right and wrong
—lay dormant still unborn
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
One of those who enters the fray
draws the line at
opposition to belief in hell
still afraid
that God would hate him,
thought how very unpleasant to imagine
this Old Man, Uncle Figure,
Kindly Archetype
hating you, turning His back,
wanting to leave your house,
sniffing at the impurities.
The question is, too late?
The anticipation of
Not knowing
If my fantasy of you
Is being relieved.
To taste and touch you
and then share
my flesh with yours.
Hoping for an expected
Ironic disposition of a
Holy archetype.
I try to rid myself of
This mutation—a handicap
All too familiar.
I lose myself
In your eyes and
I falsely believe that
They are mine
To swim in.
Long into the night
the Dreamweaver works,
spinning dream-threads
of golden silk
into etheric fantasies.
Archetype and metaphor
do a mind-meld
in REM’s
2/4 time;
conjured music
from Dreamweaver’s
harp.
Echoes of
past lifetimes are
revisited in
the Dreamtime;
swirling,
do-see-do
memories are,
identifiable to
spirits who share
the dreams.
Sheathed in unfamiliar undulating curves
Likened to white marble maidens
Once a graceful willowy frame, wistful memory serves
Augmented by fruitful years and plump babies laden
This heart and mind deceived by time
And all that I have collected
My evolution into this voluptuous frame sublime
Youthful archetype of attraction neglected
Yet this mantle that encases
Does not define or symbolize
For my reflection in my children’s faces
Is the only mirror I realize.