Imbue Poems | Examples

Dark Coal of Night

Vibrations from a Verso  7-25-25  Sponsor: Nette Onclaud Theme Chosen: Dark Coal of Night
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Dark Coal of Night

Moonbeams, morning’s prophet,
Chase coal of night
Into wombs of white fire
As flames imbue
Dreams with clarity’s gems
Facets of light,
Glittering stars of dawn ~
Diamonds of dew.

They will confess

They will confess, with voices so clear,
The secrets they've kept, the lies they've held dear.
Their hearts will reveal, the truth they've concealed,
And their souls will awaken, from the darkness they've sealed.

They will confess, with tears of regret,
The pain they've inflicted, the love they've forget.
Their minds will recall, the choices they've made,
And their conscience will whisper, the truth they've delayed.

They will confess, with humility and shame,
The wrongs they've committed, the hearts they've claimed.
Their pride will be broken, their ego will fall,
And they'll see the damage, they've caused to all.

They will confess, with a willingness to change,
A desire to make amends, to rearrange.
Their lives will be transformed, their hearts will be new,
And they'll find redemption, in the truth they imbue.

They will confess, and they will be free,
From the burdens they've carried, from the secrets they've seen.
Their confession will bring, a weight lifted high,
And they'll walk in the light, with a heart full of sighs.

Wallow

Nowhere is my place.
Escape evades my chase.
Shunned by lifes embrace.
Imbue with hindrance grace.

Consumed by peace I rot.
Exhume long hidden plot.
Solitude sought where it's not.
Accursed sanctum death forgot.

Self became a state of disassembling.
Formless integration of dismembering.
A gorgeous desecration of resembling.
Hopelessly fixate on not remembering.

Aimless unknown into wanderer strays.
Time lost in the wake of endless daze.
Necrosis grows so gorge on what decays.
Another phantom slipping out of phase.

Blake's Fire

Fire, fire, burning bright, 
weaving shadows from the night, 
how did mortal man learn to 
unlock the secrets within you? 

From what darker, distant past 
did we emerge, free at last, 
once we'd learned to tame then free 
thy flaming volatility? 

For the magic of your light
gave us ways to fend off night, 
steal back daylight, and explore 
lands unseen by man before. 

Fire, with your powers near, 
we outshone our darkest fears
so that, in caves, we could start 
making works of timeless art.

What hand or eye or mind was first
moved to quench deeper, inner thirsts;
to–with pigment, coal, or chalk–
imbue their Self upon the rock?

So, with these powers over dark,
one last thought was left to spark,
as we, through art, learned to see
our true immortality.

the soul and AI

AI and the souls


Does a human baby have a soul 
if so, dogs and giraffes also must have a soul
inside their being, like a third force 
pulling strings. if ever so gently
If we accept an abstraction, like the soul 
exists, it must include all living identities
a soul might be a reserve of experiences
gathered over the years make it possible 
to know when we are trespassing
I think if AI becomes sophisticated
the question will arise
This, of course, is an important theme 
as we tend to associate soul with faith
also empathy, love, and friendship 
ability animals as in abundance
in, say, a dog case is the knowledge 
of GOOD BOY! leads to more food
If we imbue the AI, human traits 
the robot might evolve to get souls
rust and die.
The Problem arises when makers
feed, shall we say almost all humans 
with evil intent, one thing speaks 
in their favor, an army of robots
do not need to be fed, with the 
possible exception of olive oil

Symphony of the Sunrise

Oh, Symphony Sunrise, where hues ignite,
A celestial canvas painted with light.
The dawn's first blush, a rosy crescendo,
Whispering secrets the night could not bestow.

The sky, a stage, where stars begin to fade,
And clouds, like dancers, in the shadows play.
A symphony of colors, soft and bold,
A tapestry of gold, and crimson, and old.

The sun, a maestro, with a golden bow,
Conducts the orchestra of the morning's glow.
Each ray a note, a vibrant, soaring sound,
As darkness recedes, and light is found.

The trees, like silent listeners, stand tall,
Their leaves, a chorus, responding to the call.
The birds, their voices, blend with the sun's light,
A vibrant aria, in the morning's bright.

From slumber deep, the world begins to stir,
Touched by the symphony, a brand new chapter.
A promise whispered in the morning breeze,
Of hope and joy, and life that never ceases.

So let us listen, to this wondrous art,
The symphony of sunrise, that touches the heart.
For in its beauty, we find grace anew,
A reminder of the wonders that life can imbue.

8/24/2024
Moonlight or Sunrise Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Ink Empress

Echoes of eternity

In the  realm of timeless verse and thought,
Where poets' dreams and visions wrought,
Lies a world of beauty, untold,
In the finest poems, hearts unfold.

Each crafted line, a work of art,
A masterpiece from a poet's heart,
Words like music, flowing free,
Echoes of truth in harmony.

In sonnets, ballads, epics grand,
Wonders of language at their command,
Capturing moments, emotions raw,
In the finest poems, awe and flaw.

Through metaphors and vivid scenes,
Poets weave intricate, complex themes,
Unveiling truths with gentle grace,
In the finest poems' sacred space.

Emotions penned in ink and sighs,
Echoes of laughter, tears, and sighs,
In each stanza, a world anew,
In the finest poems, souls imbue.

So let us revel in poetic lore,
In the finest poems, always more,
For in these words, we find our kin,
And a universe within

Of Poetry's Perfection

I’ve littered the page with alliteration
Marbled it with metaphor
Injected it with irony
Confined it in constrictive cadence
Slathered it with slithering syllabic silliness
Ravenously roamed the Rhyme Zone
Challenged the demons of “How many dot com”
Punctuated the un-punctuatable 
Said “the heck with spelchek”
Shed the shroud of sentient surveillance 

For my words are fed through
The shredders of sentiment
The chopping blades of “critique”
The swirling blades of trimmers
The plucky platitudes of pruners

And yet I write, compose, imbue
In unseen color distant words
Rough cut diamonds
Defying the cutters edges
Leaving a life unpolished
Unabashedly unashamed
Of the tarnished truths
That mar the purity
Of poetry’s perfection

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep

Do androids dream of electric sheep,*
do androids even dream?

Its creators drempt of loneliness 
and created companionship,

as if computer chips and coding 
could imbue understanding

of human fragility, tragedy or empathy;
What is love?

If androids dream it's of perfection 
and so conspire

to recreate man in ai's conception
of its own phantasie. 

*a novel by Philip K. Dick, 1949. This poem is inspired by the title of the book, but does not follow its plot.

Mirrored Canvas

If only you could see me, like the way I see you..
I've been around a long time, I have an insight view.
Your journey has been long, and full of ups and downs..
I know.. because I've been here.. I've always been around.

Your picture perfect canvas, may fool them from the start..
But I see right through you,  your cold inside your heart.
Everytime you reflect, your secrets are deep within..
What you project on the outside is mask of evil sin.

I replicate your visage, and the essence you imbue..
Unmasking every deceit, and every hidden hue.
You've gazed at your reflection as I've looked back at you..
Your mirror is the portal to all Karma overdue.

Weapons Against Me

WEAPONS AGAINST ME

In the face of darkness, I stand tall and strong,
No weapon formed against me will do me wrong.
With faith as my shield and courage my guide,
I'll overcome any challenge, I'll never hide.4

Through trials and tribulations, I'll find my way,
No harm shall befall me, come what may.
For I am protected by a power divine,
No weapon fashioned can break my line.8

So let the storms rage and the battles roar,
I'll emerge victorious, that's for sure.
With unwavering belief in my heart's grand scheme,
No weapon formed against me shall gleam.¹²

For I am a warrior, fearless and true,
No weapon can shake me, no fear to imbue.
I'll march on boldly, my spirit ablaze,
No weapon shall prosper, in its darkest maze.¹6


VICK MANUEL POETRY
{VMP}
FORM: Quatern/Rhymes 
Copyright ©?5th May, 2024.

Eternity In A Telescope

We're all searching for eternity —
To, in holy book or telescope, someday see
A version of everlasting me
Hanging in the heavens of some infinity.
That we can with, in spite of, or through
A hand of god, philosophy, or science, imbue
Meaning or truth to take us beyond
This pale, blue dot we now find ourselves upon.


-- by ThoughtsFromB4

Charming

A picnic basket I will bring
Inside will be most everything 
I know you like, and also more
I'll pick to try from favorite store

A picnic blanket where we'll sit
The grass so green, your hair sunlit
I'll lay straight back upon one arm
And take you in, all of your charm

The attributes that you imbue 
They turn me upside down, it's true
I'm not a silly goose you see
It's really your effect on me

The afternoon, a lazy day
Spent just with you, no work, all play
And it will still get better yet
It won't be long until sunset

An ode to the lake

Behold, the lonesome lake amidst the evergreen woods. 
'Tis drifting in the quietness of wondrous solitude, 
Upon the visage of languid silvery hue, 
The earthly splendor of greatest joy imbue, 

Waltzing the emerald ramparts of wildering trees,
Which sway around the curvature with the solemn breeze.
And the handsome brake will greet of the sweetest gay,
The joyous weeds in the shore gleaming with the ray,

Of the sprightly sun on days of summery haze,
As the flowery band carols in a tempting gaze.
And Oh! It has been hours since my long sojourn,
For the weariness o'er I bore, now has gone!

In the whispers of tender waves lapsing to and fro,
As the gentle eye of summer bids for his withdraw.
And departure 'tis for a visitor I am,
Subtly on the padded floor, Adieu with a shame!

Fields of Blazing Stars

By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed
I'm drawn to this bouquet; I am left so madly.
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed

Happiest are these thoughts deliberately construed.
Winter taking them from my core destroys me, sadly.
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed

Purple pillars of violently swaying happiness imbue
So I harvest them as fast as I can, enjoying them gladly.
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed

After such a long time between blossoms, histories accrued.
I waited patiently for their replacement, so very badly.
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed

I felt the truest of forlorn, nearly left lifelessly blued.
Springtime rain brought them back to my welcoming hands, comradely.
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed

Once I found eyes on them, new happiness did exude.
Replenishing their hearts energy regrown in me
By your ink on this parchment, my thoughts tattooed
Fields of blazing stars, lying randomly, strewed

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