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saintghost.bsky.social
lichtbringer
@saintghost.bsky.social
1.1K followers 890 following 2.1K posts
Anna | 1991 | Germany | gemini ⋆☀︎. | scorpio ⏾⋆.˚

hexerey & hochgebet ꒰ა♱໒꒱

angel at the abattoir // patron saint of moonstruck girls･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ☾

somewhere between psychotic and iconic ౨ৎ

all words by me
unless stated otherwise ﾟ･* ⋆ ✩ ˚ ｡⋆ ✩
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saintghost.bsky.social
#completethehaiga 131
#haiga #haiku

@completethehaiga.bsky.social ✨
from the frost-fortress reigns his icicle scepter emperor penguin
January 6, 2026 at 2:44 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
I am shamelessly copying @stacebot.bsky.social and herewith post an unsolicited poem for #PoemsAbout #NewYear ✨

Y’all are an amazing and incredibly inspiring community and I wish you all the best for the new year. 🫶🏻
New Year’s Resolution Maybe more a prayer than a resolution but isn’t everything. Even a wound, even that concussion that I gave myself for Christmas. The unforgiving hardness of a door or a fist or how you left like a sparrow down a shotgun. Anyway. The lights are still on and on and on and I am so holy and empty as a god. Speaking of: Dear Lord, please grant me the freedom and the unashamed strength to write awful poems. It doesn’t have to be good. It only has to be true. Amen.
January 2, 2026 at 7:30 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
#BlueSkyPoetry #BSPP49 ✨ #poetry
the inner mirror january frost has silverglazed the lake into a looking- glass reflecting back the night and that itself, the water’s glimmer is mirrored back on winter moon’s tin-translucent skin and so it is that all things melt into a one gleam so bright your eyes hurt from the sheer bright fearlessness of it bouncing off each other back and forth like a never-finished hymn gasp-sung by celestial choirs ever swelling like the lungs of storm-wassailing sparrows that grow into a holy throat with how the wind prays through them and for a second there all of a sudden among all that indomitable blackened cold in your gaze you hold every single star you’ve dreamed winking back at you
January 2, 2026 at 3:16 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
the shiny thread
spanning from year to year
your life’s spiderweb

#haiku
#DailyHaikuPrompt

#art Tuesday Riddell
An illustration showing a nighttime forest scene, in the middle a spiderweb spans between branches. There are flowers and ferns, moths and worms, and a golden bird.
January 2, 2026 at 1:43 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
No cheating, reskeet with the most recent photo of your pet

Poor Albert was scared of the fireworks on New Year’s Eve so we built him a little cave ♡
My dog Albert (fluffy, black) resting in his little bed in a blanket cave under a table
January 2, 2026 at 10:20 AM
saintghost.bsky.social
#MPPrompt ✨ #poetry
What The World Wants From A Poet A way out. A door creaking silver time-backwards on rusted tooth-hinges into the forgiving lilac hush of a dream. Impossible things. Possibly bananas. Angel wings. Wren feathers. Where the red thread went or the blood or any of it. Time, more. Never enough. Where did I go? The way through. A hand to hold. The gleam in one’s eyes, always. Keys. Yes, keys! The key. The one and only and the father and the son and the Holy Spirit. What makes us holy. Love. What we had when we were born but lost living. I want to open my eyes. I want. A home with a light. A way in.
December 30, 2025 at 6:09 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
#vss365 #sole ✨ #poetry
between the years time counts backwards curled around itself you are a single snowflake falling and falling like someone in love through dawn-gleam and dusk-hush and owl moon-calls through days through the rips in calendar pages through lifetimes eras the seconds it takes until the clock strikes now until never until forever until somebody says I think that she is not quite here until everything-is-upside-down and skewered like an eyelash wish in a winter gale who can say where the falling ends and where you begin? maybe you have always been falling maybe that is what life is made of: a lone drop of rain going down the throat of eternity and even if it never reaches the ocean it still reflects the light maybe it is the sole source of light that there is ever has been here now
December 30, 2025 at 4:35 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
her day culminates
into one exhausted drag
from her cigarette
for a flickers she’s a dragon
breathing contented ruin

#inkMine #tanka

#art Camilla d’Errico
An illustration by Camilla d’Errico showing a girl with a little dragon perched on her head. They are both surrounded by plumes of smoke that come out of the dragon’s nostrils.
December 30, 2025 at 4:21 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
december cold
the foxes draw tighter
their chestnut coats

#haiku
#DailyHaikuPrompt

#art Mori Raito
An illustration by Mori Raito showing a wintry woodland scene. A woman in a brown dress/coat carrying a lantern walks through the snow in a nighttime forest with the full moon visible between the trees. A small fox accompanies her.
December 29, 2025 at 6:01 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
categorized by the government as “problematic” and in spite of much protest was shot in June 2006 💔 Now he is displayed in a museum in Munich, poor thing.
The taxidermied body of Bruno the brown bear displayed in a German museum.
December 29, 2025 at 4:04 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
#smallpoemsunday ✨
The Old Year Another poem I did not finish. Or, rather: An ode I’ll continue to write.
December 28, 2025 at 7:29 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
#completethehaiga 124
#haiga #haiku

@completethehaiga.bsky.social ✨
the sky’s a diamond cut by a crane’s wings moon of glass
December 28, 2025 at 6:05 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
#completethehaiga 130
#haiga #haiku

@completethehaiga.bsky.social ✨
blue glimmers down below as if of dancing snowflakes arctic jellyfish
December 28, 2025 at 6:01 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
my phone
thinks my dog is a bear
Siri is drunk

#haiku
#DailyHaikuPrompt

Amerikanischer Schwarzbär = American black bear 🐻
A screenshot of a picture of my dog Albert sitting in front of a green bush with the automatic identification thingy on the phone thinking the image shows an American black bear
December 28, 2025 at 4:25 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
#vss365 #struggle ✨ #poetry

A belated Christmas poem. Sort of.
Rejoice Is holiness myrrh and incense or the tooth of the oxen as he grinds the hay, content to rejoice in how the world keeps turning. He will not be slaughtered, he will ascend in a rush of blood and awe. Maybe it is enough, for once, to place just yourself on the altar. Maybe a cathedral is a willow tree. The sacred cross is where the swan bone of your wrist meets the chapel of my mouth. The wind that gives way to your words as if they were prophecies. It is following the gleam of a morning star where others only see the dying flicker of a firefly, it is crossing over every dead end and going further still. It is calling a struggle a prayer. Sometimes, a new king is born. Sometimes, just a smile.
December 27, 2025 at 4:32 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
#poetry ✨
#emoetry #thoughtful
#whistpr #moose
The Feral Dark Be thoughtful of what others are going through. You do not know the shape of their darkness. Bear, wolfhound, winged hare. The velvet crown-chandelier of a moose. Maybe their sadness has grown antlers, maybe their silence sprouts fangs. They might be another night, another language, a dream you are straining to dream. Listen closely, extend a hand. Sometimes the softness of a fingertip ignites a star.
December 26, 2025 at 7:28 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
#vss365 #survive ✨ #poetry

inspired by a lovely haiku from @jennfel.bsky.social

“bubblegum pink
steadying the bicycle
my father’s hands”

— Jenn Ryan-Jauregui
Remaining Light What teaches you to survive? The hands steadying your bicycle, your mother’s, your sister’s, the sky’s. How you suddenly sprout butterfly wings and pop kite strings, whisking over the lip of the field like a prayer refusing to end. There is a revelation in how the river grows stronger for catching the rain. There is a darkness that is coming down fast but whose relentlessness cuts away the sinews, bones, the things you don’t need anymore, until you are all song, all luminosity, all wingfeather bred by the wind. It is the semicolon at the end of the poem saying, this ain’t over yet. We don’t look pretty but we’re going places. We’re small flickers in the long night but mighty as a god. Our bodies have been shaped by the holes in our chest. Stardust, galaxies. We are an open shrine, ancient. The moon worships at our bare feet. We have come here to stay.
December 26, 2025 at 4:37 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
A very merry Christmas and festive greetings from me & Albert to all of you lovely people ✨🎄💫
My dog Albert (black, fluffy, white chest, brown and white paws) sitting in front of a green and golden ornamental wallpaper. He has a dark green bow around his neck and in front of him is an opened present.
December 25, 2025 at 1:03 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
For #PoemsAbout #Money ✨

for @thebrokenspine.co.uk
& @alanparrywriter.co.uk

I guess what I am trying to say is that there are lots of things money can’t buy, such as love, or a home, or the feeling of being at home. Looking forward to reading everybody’s poems later tonight! ♡
We Can’t Afford Love How much does it cost to be able to sleep through airplane turbulence? Is it the price of, say, sourdough bread or lip filler or a Netflix subscription? Is it more or less than that, more than Armani or the Solomon Islands or death? Wealth is continuing sunwards on your pink bicycle after your mother’s hands have left, it is the tangerine fizz of summer oranges in winter, of a dog’s wet snout. Wealth is knowing where to go when the last person has stopped thinking about you. You are a spectator at your own quaint funeral. You are a few minutes late, of course, as the fashion dictates it, but also because the dying has taken a bit longer than expected: The audacity of the gash to cold-coagulate, the rope frayed like a dream in half-sleep. Death adheres to no schedule. And death always takes more than you have. There is a reason that money tastes like that sharp tang of blood and death thinks you owe him some more. There is no one there to bury your corpse: All dolled up in your expensive suit, you droop before the headstone like a missing parcel delivered to the wrong address. Nobody came to place silver into the hollow furnace of your mouth to pay the ferryman, Charon, who will not slave away like an Amazon drone but who insists on being compensated fairly like a veteran postal worker for shuffling around all those stray souls from the now into this permanent awe. He is an avid advocate of labor rights and head of the union of psychopomps, boat owners, and gondoliers. Every threshold you cross will cost you, every corner you skip snags a piece. How much do you need to leave yourself behind, to de-body, detach, and become? On the brimstone-charred shores of the river Styx — who himself is not a cheap wisp of tinsel but the scissors cutting the worlds — you will meet all the other unfortunate ones: The broke-asses who can’t pay for the fare. Sometimes, the issue is of empty pockets, while for others, it is a loving-too-much; a…
December 19, 2025 at 3:40 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
they are dancing 💜
My dog Albert (left side, medium sized, black) playing with another dog named Günni (a bit smaller, also black). Albert and Günni chasing each other at the dog park
December 16, 2025 at 5:45 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
from the Earthsea saga, so I will definitely get that when I have some money to spare! 😁
The Books of Earthsea book cover
December 16, 2025 at 4:24 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
But DM has really good ones, too 💖
Trend it Up (DM) Pretty in Tint Fruity Lip Stain
November 14, 2025 at 5:28 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
Lip stain/tint is like lipstick but MUCH more liquid & the color doesn’t sit ON your lips but kinda really seeps INTO the skin. Lasts much longer. You can eat & drink & it stays where it’s supposed to. One of my favorite ones is MOONSHOT Performance Lip Blur Fixing Tint
MOONSHOT Performance Lip Blur Fixing Tint in some shade of red
November 14, 2025 at 5:27 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
For #PoemsAbout #Desire ✨

for @thebrokenspine.co.uk
& @alanparrywriter.co.uk

I know I need to learn how to edit but this is another one of those that just burst out of me in a fountain of blood and snot. It kind of had to get out, I guess.
Desire She asks me, what do you want, and I say I need a raging cattle gun between my eyes. I say, I want to go crazy, like real crazy, not this choked silent suffering but a scream that will burst every seam-crazy, neon-crazy, heroin-crazy, woman with her head in the oven-crazy. The kind with confetti and ambulances. Chalk outlines. Hot as brimstone, emergency room-bright. Look here, I want to open this here window and jump the fuck right out of it. I want to cut deeper. Darker, more demented, more desperate. I want to hemorrhage. I want you to have to sew me back together from scratch, without all of the mistakes, the failure, the fear. Twenty-one stitches is not nearly enough. You ask me, why, and I say, desire desire desire. I am going mad with desire. for him for love for belonging for applause for a hand around my neck for fame for attention for death for cheating death for outliving for the blood of christ For the rush of losing your mind. The desire to cross that line. I want to be the lady in the park that coos at the doves and flaps her arms like wings. I want to dangle from the precipice like a leaf in October, I want to be a tightrope dancer across all of your edges. I want to be that patient on the ward who barks the whole day long like a frenzied dog. I want to stick needles into my arm until I squeal like a porcupine. I want my veins fat with methamphetamine. I want a harder door, a bluer bruise, a more brutal concussion. I want to bash my head against this wall until I laugh again. I want to tear this room down this skin this padded cell a world a girl a wound that hurts like fire that is too sharp to touch to kill to feel to fuck. I want to leave myself behind to become everybody else. I want to be a poet I want to be a lover rockstar priest saint cult leader a goddamn work of art I am possessed by desire and empty as all hell.
November 14, 2025 at 2:00 PM
saintghost.bsky.social
Get to know your followers
10 random things you like

Passing to:
@readingraindoe.bsky.social
@spacer.bsky.social
@anntigone.bsky.social
10 Random Things I Like 1. Dogs! Deer! Llamas and alpacas! 2. Tarot cards although I still haven’t figured out how to read them 3. Atmospheric black metal 4. Lip stain (100 x better than lipstick!) 5. My cheap old guitar with the even cheaper amp that randomly turns on the distortion sometimes (it might be haunted) 6. Korean skin care 7. Fancy & overly sweet coffee (pumpkin spice, gingerbread latte, white macadamia vanilla cinnamon cupcake, you name it) 8. Velvet skirts and dresses 9. Woodwick candles 10. Concerts!!
November 14, 2025 at 11:44 AM