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Best Imagism Poems

Below are the all-time best Imagism poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of imagism poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Imagism Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Imagism poems are below this new poems list.

Summertime by Judas, Rylea
Fury, a love story by Raina, Samay
The Old Cathedral by Templin, Shaina
In the Light of the Window by Templin, Shaina
Every Creature Has A Hidden Agenda by Mamabolo, Lekau
A Falcon's Death by Ali, Awsaaf
FOR HEARTS THAT DARE by Marcus, Joanna
Silent Cries by Khurana, Jasmine
Reminiscence of Wall and I by Ben, Su

View all new Imagism Poems

The Best Imagism Poems

Details | Imagism Poem | |

A Lei of Secrets

I found your voice caressing the breeze
A lei of secrets whispering in the wind
Your thoughts, urgent from the dreams we hold
I kiss them on sunsets, as elation claims me
Can I be the taste from your ancient songs?
Would you know me from our tangled stories?
Love me from the fires that tease your chances
Hug my lonely hours with your heady madness
Play my surrender, with your wild love for me
Light this distance away, till I come to you…

More great poems below...

Details | Imagism Poem | |

A song for me

I caught the moon’s smile on his eyelids
My nights heaving, hollow from his absence
The silken ropes around me, finally fall away
As I move to him from lifetimes that must have been

An army of kisses my way, he whispered
Silver spells on my life, our times together
One moment with him, my eternity surrendered
Caught in each other’s universe, his strength all mine

The sun on his shoulders above me
Rhythm our secrets, satin moves of want
I trace his beauty from our entangled breath
Ballads of love from bodies in need...

Details | Imagism Poem | |


My thirst sang, walking thru quicksand
Stardust, from the pollen secrets of my dreams
Swollen rainbows and their rain-drenched songs
They kept me company on the moon’s route

Lit in ecstasy, on a whim’s silver dream
I fly with the winds from a trellised lore
The magic of my beginnings bite into my days
The swirl of illusion peeling layers off

Gossamer truths on tiptoes, they wait 
Shy in their purple robes, tasting elation
Whispering together, sipping their future
They drink from pools of veiled time

Life dances her brilliance 
On the polished shoulders of my desires
Coming alive, on little crumpets of sweet enigma
An Eden unveiled on the brilliance of every mote…

Details | Imagism Poem | |

My Soul Belongs to You

I feel your spirit in the trees
        As your blessed birds
Surround me with their song.
        That first warm sip 
Of morning tea,
        My closed eyes,
deep long breaths
        As I meditate and
I sense your divineness in me.

I feel your breath upon my cheek
        In a caressing breeze
That wanders by,
        That faintest floral scent
That lingers in the air
        Lets me know 
You are everywhere.

I feel one with the rising sun
        As twilight skies 
Gently morph from lavender to blue,
        And your fingers of light behind
Silver clouds subtlety filters through.
        I am thrilled to spend 
Another glorious day with you.

© Connie Marcum Wong

Details | Imagism Poem | |

Sweet Ecstasy

Dreams of you from far away 
Bring us closer  in  every way
My image and face come into view 
As I walk by You call out my name 
I turn to look at you , smile  

I know what you want 
And I like it that way

Flashes and thoughts of you 
Visions of us  touching bare 
The smell of your musky scent 
I melt into you without a care  
My fingers  run through your hair

You snuggling up close behind me
As though we were one heart beating
Rolling on blankets of heavy thick furs  
Caught up in this  moment of ecstasy 

Red flames burn in the hearth 
It may be frigid  cold outside
Though we haven't a care 

As we explore our bodies in time 
We take ourselves there
Until our bodies  are spent 
As sweet slumber comes 

More great poems below...

Details | Imagism Poem | |


Blue waves danced around her slim ankles
Evening winds caressed her delicate neck 
The lascivious sand rubbed raw pleasures
Into that aching body that was she

She arched forward in desire's stupor
Thirsty eyes longing in deep brown haze
Wet legs basked their shimmering length
Bronzed high in drunken poetry

She wrapped her longing around her body
Moving to the sea's heady rhythm
Wind-blown hair hugging her waist
Sun-bleached in salt, tugging at need

She walked towards chance 
Her body heaving on the edge
Taut with secret, wanton frissons

Seduction's prowl on desert hearts
Desert rain on parched souls...

Details | Imagism Poem | |



Closed eyes; under a locked prism of unavailable light 
subjects our third eye to mind's internal creation; 
imagined images viewed by non-existent senses
on an opague three dimensional screen.

In an algorithm of shedded particle waves
Insight quickly fades back into a darkened vision 
of only half a picture without reflection. 

It leaves with us a broken trail of possibilities 
new thoughts, new choices, changes in destiny 
warily made under duress of immediacy 
trying to conceive a canvas framed 
by the hand of God.

It is in response to these panchromatic memories
held back by the sun's blackened light, 
that we clearly notice how the prism 
reflects an undercurrent. of shadeless secrets 
different than the realm of visionary colors.

Sensory detections relinquish an uncompleted picture. 
The image within, at times, may reveal an idea.
the transmission of which however placed
when received should strive to become an emotional 
mover of otherwise placid thinking where wizened leaders 
can in causes wept in sorrow from yesterday's sadness 
proclaim a hope for a brighter tomorrow.


When our eyes are shut tight, there is no light or vision.
We are limited to what we see with our inner mind. 
Nevertheless there is an internal sense,
a feeling of a creative process going on. 
It occurs as insight and often fades into a clouded vision 
of a thought picture barely perceived within.

When we leave the path of contemplative thinking,
we lose the benefit of what could have been. 
The choices we make are usually expedient 
and we struggle to determine 
what it is that we really want. 
Often we are faced and challenged by outside forces 
many of which we deflect as we espouse our point of view
without exploring all the possibilities. 

We see what could be and would like to be 
hoping that it will make a difference.
and help humanity move forward 
to a brighter tomorrow.

CAK  5-23-2103

Details | Imagism Poem | |


The stillness of a 
mountain ravine
overflowing with lush foliage
at the base of a tumbling waterfall
is painted with a rich cascade of words

Details | Imagism Poem | |



As autumn settles 
like a mantle across her shoulders 
the dancer lowers herself gracefully 
to the leaf-littered ground
curls her still shapely 
yet heavily veined legs to one side 
exposing bruised knees     
plucks her veils free from their clasps
with nimble fingers    and offers 
their wispy worn fineness in trade 
for a taste of the honeyed    
once forbidden confections 
tumbling over the rim of the pottery bowl 
held by invisible hands

For Giorgio’s small poem contest IV
Motif  #4

Details | Imagism Poem | |

The Seekers Song

Parched thoughts mirage in hope
Destinations reworked 
Barefoot on illicit emotions
Pacing nights, stalking rainbows

The ink haunts every written word
Molten anguish in whirlpools
Looking for wisdom’s silver mane
Deserted by the jade green eyes of duty

The drumbeats of intuitive sunsets
Fades religions from the angels’ wings
The word limps on in chains and shackles
Leather-bound, gold-printed on captive minds…

Details | Imagism Poem | |

Till My Poems Are, no More

I bequeath to you my poems,
For words are all I own--
May the images of snow and fall
Bring you comfort when alone.

And I will leave you all of it;
The moonlight on the moor--
As well the quiet, leafy wood,
Or a sunbathed distant shore.

And among the rhyme and imagery;
The metaphor, and theme--
You'll read of rose and morning dew,
Of midnight naps, and dream.

And somewhere in between the lines
The fantasy turns real--
So take these words I proffer you,
And touch, and taste, and feel.

Amazing are the things you'll see,
Like the ivy-covered wall--
Or the icy streams of diamond
And the spill of waterfall.

So enchanting is the moonlight,
So too the autumn breeze--
Oh how I'll miss the butterflies
And the stand of ancient trees.

So precious is the lily pond,
The wildflowers too--
Take comfort in the song of rain
And the pansies playful hue.

How amazing is the hummingbird
In uncertain, frenzied flight--
Reminds me of the dawn and eve
As they argue, day or night.

And in the valley of the glen,
Where stands the steeple church--
There remains a knee-high meadow,
And a lovely stand of birch.

So Immerse yourself in wondering,
Set your spirit to the sky--
Behold as children, puffs of cloud;
The bee and butterfly.

And let your palette taste the wind,
Hear the quiet of the snow--
While delighting in the jasmine;
The sweetest scent I know.

Take my words and nurture them,
Kindly revel in my dream--
And keep alive the buttercup,
As well the mountain stream.

May you sleep the night, and linger;
That my dream may carry on--
Give life to every word and thought
Till the images are gone.

May you celebrate the beauty;
May you open every door--
Till the sun is swallowed by the sea,
And my poems are, no more.


Details | Imagism Poem | |

Between Shades

“Alive,” she said,
 “and becoming such a beautifully-
painted picture.”

Where-in you walk wispy
(She said)
through the moon’s light
shinning on the branches
of leafless trees.

Then tomorrow shakes his tired head,
halfway into Autumn’s-
dead middle;
and you stand shaded and colored
(She said)
by the fiery skies.

While down among your feet
the wilted flowers 
wake like a carnival 
and encircle you
(She said)
with forgotten happiness.

And on you trod shyly
into forests of yes and no.
Where all happiness is lost,
and the flowers forget-
to grow.

“Alive,” she said.

Details | Imagism Poem | |

Scent of the day

Scent of the day 
The sun and the moon, at random met in a race,
But never walked together on the forgotten grass
Of their recollections tuning incredible bass;
Drums asleep rested in a secret chamber of grace.

Fade, the flowers crushed under the horses’ hoof
Called the white dawn with the scent of church,  
While the sick forest shared hope with the birch
Like a monk in pensive mood, standing sadly, aloof.

Sun arises, pushing a shinning golden fork
At the other side of the soul and the throne
Ready to touch and wound the flying stork
At the first date with the white cloud-heron.

And the silent grew green like the firs on the crest;
And the sun was running on the moon all the day,
And the hope was running like a butterfly without rest;
It looks for the flower with secret scent of the day.

Details | Imagism Poem | |

Dancing Verse

You are my dancing verse, from early frozen dawns;   
But clouds still rested, like broken glass of sky,
When playful youth, a snowball threw and hit a ray;             
But clouds still rested above the inner dreaming lawns.                 
At first I thought, the world is made of frozen honey;
But clouds still rested, like windows of the people’ soul; 
By river-time, as I stayed and saw the stopped sky`s condole
But clouds still rested, so I chose from them, the pony.

A farther world in which I live, I guard my glass menagerie:
And dreams still rested, like tamed animals in your hands,       
When words I chose, they were like penguins of farther lands;    
And dreams still rested, like ready to adorn the season` tree.        
You dancing skate and keep my hand, beyond the mirror white; 
And love still rested: the golden ray is playing in thy lock.
We form a joyful stanza, in which we dance around the clock;
And love still rested, and feeds us all with tender light.

Details | Imagism Poem | |

one wish

i imagined finding a bottle in the desert sea 
all encased with jewels it mystified me
i open up the bottle 
and out comes a puff of smoke 
it swirled all around
but did not make me choke
then out of no where 
a form began to appear
it was you, my jennie
popped up from nowhere 
you are my magic jennie 
with power to grant my every wish
you wait for my command 
but truly i am thoughtless
you are my wish 
and nothing else would do
when it comes to wishing
i have no more to do
you and nothing else would satisfy me
you and nothing else would compleat my dream
you and nothing else would i write into this scene
you and nothing else would i make my queen
thoughtless yet am i 
to all material things
your presence is my answer
to my sweetest dreams
your beauty is my treasure
such a wonderous thing
your spirit is my light
to you i'll always cling
so here to you i'll say
and lets be on our way
you don't have to be a jennie
just be mine everyday

Details | Imagism Poem | |

'twas All Wild

‘’twas all wild—All wind, All shores:
Seas were brewing savage storms;
Rambling clouds were moving thunder—
Thunder herself, did her chores…
 With white, foaming, briny waters—
The fleet of men crossing them—
Howling Capes and crowing Bergs
That ever saw trespassing them,
Witnessed the lot being washed—
The visor of Mercy being cracked…

The howling, screaming, deathly Play
Waited the time Night approached
To aide—to rescue hacked and chopped
With farewell bid to the angered Day:
Time now when the Rivers—joining hands
(That had shrieked and showed their might)
No more chid the juvenile Bank—
Traveled course in faded light,
Whilst the strength of Fury lay
To tell Quiet of squandered Peace…

Details | Imagism Poem | |

Silence 2

Still - I sit in the silence
Thoughts slowing
Colour warming from pale yellows to cadmium reds
Wonderful sunsets happening gently
Muscles relax into soft blue-green
Sweet clean smells assail my nostrils
Silken cords unloose my spine
A burst of joy filters through my body
Senses heightened
I rejoice

Details | Imagism Poem | |

tiny words

tiny words

'went to the gas station
and opened my mouth 

filled my stomach
with gasoline

lit a match and 
swallowed it in

burned myself
smoked with fire

i spread like charcoal 
smeared in a kid's hand

stenched and charred black
i spread to the pristine clouds

deploring the blue vault
like a black shiitake flower

suffocating lungs
with a dire myth

then went to the ocean
and devoted myself 

to no resistance
and drowned .......

'cut my lips with sharp
visceral shale and waited

for the sharks to gnaw
my weightless lips and

useless mouth ..........
while the rest of me

traveled in the bellies
of fish ..............




fed by tiny words .


Details | Imagism Poem | |


Young girls
pluck their eyebrows
paint on new faces
practice walking in heels
swirl the hems of their dresses
Slender willows leaning
into the tentative breeze
waiting to be asked to dance

Details | Imagism Poem | |


I was playing with colours, white for happiness 
In the glow of bliss, back to serendipity
Earth brown caught the spell of the moment
The scent of rain, heady, waiting at borders

The amber sparkling of old comforts
Back again soft and easy, I am smitten
Euphoria in ochre glances, dances back 
In unhurried moves, waltzing deep red chances

Memories thread back, orange from sunshine
They veto out caution from its dark corners
Irresistibly stubborn, they perch pretty on me
And I untangle slowly, my senses whirling pink

Wishes turn secrets, in trailing purple robes
Woken by dreams too good to be locked up
The enigma I find myself in, layer thirsty yellows
Rainbows haunt me, in my solo dance…

Details | Imagism Poem | |

a bench in the woods

a fine mist quiets the forest floor, an acorn drops from above, with a thud a crisp oak leaf spirals, gently to the ground a burbling brook, feeds it's trout in a while, my heart joins in .... and worries drift away

Details | Imagism Poem | |


The merchant vessel    its hold heavily laden 
with coffee    corn    and fabric of silk and brocade 
sails from the harbor on a breath of springtime breeze
The captain looks not ahead    but behind to the row 
of houses with identical widow walks on the beach
He marvels that the image he will carry of his lady 
is not her fair beauty    grace    or soft voice 
but instead    the last glimpse of her rose tinted lips 
pressed against the windowpane

Romantic motif
Giorgio’s contest; Impress me with a small poem II

Details | Imagism Poem | |

I Wish...

I wish I had told him

I drop a rose on his grave

For Brian's "Spaces" contest in which the middle line is blank and leaves its contents up to 
the reader's imagination.

Details | Imagism Poem | |

The Shadow of Love

I am the shadow that passes through your mind
as you remember times long gone past
the wind in your hair as you stroll
a soft touch as a leave brushes your cheek

A certain scent I always wear
tells you I am near to you
yet when you turn around
you find you are alone

You can sense me watching over you
but when you reach out all you catch
is a shadow that slips away
leaving just memories behind

You can hear my voice in the breeze
carried down from the mountain top
feel me when you bath in crystal streams
and in the beams radiating from the sun

I am everywhere yet also I am nowhere
just the shadow that protects you
I am the spirit that dwells within you
the shadow of our love for each other

Details | Imagism Poem | |

Premenstrual Syndrome -

She painted cubes and angles
drowned in hues
of density and celsius pressures,
it was in part due
to her retrospect of comfortable sorrow,

the syndrome was complicated
by the distant shine
of a brilliant lover,
I remember her voice coming to 
to me like that of a 
summer solstice
eagerly carressed by the lungs
of the bluejays
that would translate the technique
of blossoms
like it were their first language,

her fury was lush,
and she channeled it properly,
I'm positive shes negative
in an act thats sincere,
she is positively negatively
painting in gray today -