Imprinting Poems

The day, the soil lab took care of him, and I sighed

The day, the soil lab took care of him, and I sighed
Categorical exclusion, You were there, but almost Nye!
My outspoken, my hidden, my own darker trace
My grace, rancid disgrace, my song and my own mess
Did I ever tell you? I loved you with all my heart, I loved you all!
I had no desire, there, my nihilistic call, they are not an easy Pickthall!
I startled, I stumbled , I ran, I walk and I snore, sneeze and yawn!
I craft and in my propeller shaft, I fly, with flying try, I try simply not to frown!
These are not all stemming from me, these are the imprinting gemstones of praying tea 
You are a done deal only to compose , not to take heed before you even try to say, once again to me!
These are white lies, your sweater moment  drops on your life, legend and universal truth
And all they say is to look after your giggling imagism before it handles him too, to soothe beneath the bluetooth!

April, 2025

(Twelve beautiful lines )

Zen mode

pausing inner flow within silence
we osmotically penetrate the void
imprinting therein our unique emote
resplendent with God’s light unalloyed

View from the void

Mind but echoes heart’s innermost desire,
offering a clue known to but a few,
that if we become pure like mountain dew,
ego’s consigned to the funeral pyre.
We’ve walked many a mile but now we tire,
weary of rancid refrains that renew,
so opting to make void-centric our view,
we ignite in our heart, God’s cosmic fire.

In blissful repose a hymn we compose,
imprinting in space our heart’s pure intent,
wafting through life like the fresh morning breeze,
God accepting endearments we propose,
that thus paving way for our soul’s ascent,
we obtain release with nonchalant ease.

February's Warm

The shower out there fully clothed in snow,
An a.m. stays, so will I remember —       
A kiss let go in cold air, heaven white — 
The very look of you through aspen boughs,
How midnight blew while icicles scattered —                                        
Our first hours quiet under snow's brief time,
There melting in snow, our bodies, thinning, 
Us giving in our heat into Winter —
I shook myself on brass; yourself was mine.
We've made baby snow angels imprinting —
               Early morning chimes.

Thought of the day

from the singularity point 
hum of innate aliveness
incessantly processes
creative expression 
for which duality
is the template
to manifest
a rhythm
in space time
where polarities 
orbit heart’s intent
prismatically refracting
light as bliss beats delight
shimmering awhile in the void
imprinting therein a unique emote

The Bridge

Time tells history
Of cobbles stone and pebbles
Of arch and arches that met
Life, sorrow and pain
There was link that connect
The old and the new stories
The path they have walked before
Still imprinting footprints today
The dust they have breathe before
Still the dust i have breathe today
The water under the old bridge
Never runs dry, it's the water that flows
Right before my very eyes
How many tears and laughter roll on the bridge
Countless memories had passed since time immemorial
The people who have passing has gone one by one
Yet, the bridge is the witness how it was portrayed
The bridge may transform from laying bricks
To the modern sophisticated of metal composition
But the purpose was not defeated and trampled
It's still connecting people, history, and commerce of life.

Piercing the veil

as silence layers silence
in time dissolved staid stillness
we sense ripples in the void
wherein our soul is centred
simply present in agendaless vibrance
attentive and receptive
not only to the words but meanings assigned
by murmurs of heart translated by the mind
a symbolic representation of light
as it is imbibed and assimilated
osmotically by our formless presence
as a soundless reverberation sublime
whose refrains echo in the cave of our heart
wherefrom gushing forth
the bardo that may not be named is then pierced
gently and mindfully imprinting our love
on the heart of God
thus invoking grace
by blurring all boundaries 
and ending separation

Enriching the whole

Joy, empathy and compassion
Ascending octaves of love
Bliss energised effervescence 
Emboldens the soul
To reclaim the sanctum of peace 
Humming in the cave of our heart

Thus bliss and peace as the effect
And agape love as the cause
Vast void of no-thing is animated
By wholeness of luminous presence
Enriching the boundless ocean of light
Imprinting therein, a unique heartbeat

Burn the book

Memorising scriptures was all in vain,
since symbolic words but addressed our mind,
whereas our soul wished to walk the terrain,
to vanquish demons of darkness that bind,
enabled on becoming love aligned.
Breath by breath thus, we chose to walk the talk,
mindfully sidestepping desires that stalk
and in no time at all, felt a bliss squall,
imprinting truth with indelible chalk,
revealing light of true Self standing tall.

Ankle Deep

I took off my shoes 
and stood ankle deep
in the shallow reach and run
of the waves. I felt a sudden
cold, the slow sink of my feet
into wet sand, the gentle pull
of the outgoing tide,
then a tickle of seaweed 
as it tangled around my shin.

There are moments like this
when you become the sum
of your own sensations. 
The world was being taken in
through my feet, sipped joyously
as if each nerve was savoring 
whatever came in contact
with my skin. It was electric.

I was motion, the deep throb
of breaking waves finding 
a resonance, a seashell
imprinting an image of itself
through my heel, the freedom
of wiggling toes. I felt as if
I was being lifted
by a strange buoyancy until
the cold spread its numbing chill 
and I stepped out of the water
back into my shoes,
into my own small footprint.

Imagine

“Imagination is a persuasive inspiration,
motivates the mind with creative momentum.” – Quote by poet


I imagine my psyche morphs into possessed passion, 
becomes a drifing daydream of fervent entity,
imprinting the insignia of opulent obsession, 
inscribed as the image of quintessence of reality.

At the ethereal edge of the sunburst halcyon horizon,
suffused with the surreal shade of celestial hue,
in your verdant meadow vividly aglow,
I imagine I am a sparkling dainty drop of dew.

In the splendorous space of seamless emptiness,
the canvas of azure gets gradually unfurled
in your enticing sky enveloping my mind,
I imagine I am a soaring free-flying bird.

On the beckoning bank of the serenading stream,
cradled in the reclined terrace perched high
in your alluring rose garden gorgeously abloom,
I imagine I am a flitting beguiled butterfly.

Under the star-studded sensuous sky,
when you come through the moonbeam blue,
I imagine I am an enticed poet eternally entranced,
dreaming to write lilting lyric of love for you.

The Velvet Touched Feathered Quills of Mysterious Books

"The Velvet Touched Feathered Quills of Mysterious Books"

Escape arrives easily 
when everything’s ugly 
deep diving into the swelling
pursed lips of smooth purring magi 
seen naked in the skinny dipped
honeyed pools of pausing poetry
kissing the tongues
of mysterious books
tracing fingers 
over their soft 
flimsy pages
their velvet touched
feathered quills hooked
removing covers slowly 
imprinting new movements
like scoring symphonies
Escape arrives easily 
deep diving into the swelling
pursed lips of the smooth purring magi

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)

N Is For Nature a Happening

The wood pigeon awoke on her roosting perch,
fluttered with a nervous jerk;
warilysearching for sustenance,
above the peregrine made a fateful entrance.

The winter harsh and icy cold,
driven far from its familiar fold,
seeking food further afield 
to an urban garden that might increase its yield.

Under a biting wintry sky 
the short tailed falcon hovered high,
an efficient killer from above,more than a 
match for pigeon or dove.

Taking its chosen meal in flight,
swooping sudden from a great height,
the momentum imprinting our window pane,
her throat slashed she soon was slain.

Talons sunk deep into the pigeons chest 
this finicky eater pecked at head and breast.
The lawn strewn leavings of a ravenous raptor,
as nature's journal leafs another chapter.

Breaking Dawn

Its dark, the woods

Jacob sits beside the campfire thinking of all his miseries. A rainbow of thoughts of which one draws attention. "Why". The cackling of fire can still be heard. The thought taunts him.

A brief moment of silence, the cackling fades, no howls, no moon, emptyness. He has let it go, the thoughts. At that moment Jacob stops caring, His selfishness dead.

Renesmee..the fire reflects off her perfect face , as radiant as the sun. Her cheeks rosier than the reddest of the roses she outruns them all human or not. 

Her heartbeats echo my name calling me closer. The future flashes in front of me. The glimpses i can't wait to see. Imprinting...this is what it is

It feels something like never before.. Knowing the world isnt about him, the story isnt about him. Jacob is not Jacob anymore, not just the creature of night,he is the author.

Mark Toney
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 2
15 th June

Band Practice

In bed lovesick, waiting for the rain;
Coffee in the air instruments being tuned,
faintly I hear them ready to try again;

Wearing a sleepy smile I swooned;
Nothing like waking up to a song
as I lay in this blanket cocooned;

In this moment is where I belong
imprinting  every drop of this;
Don't know I'm listening, I'll play along;

Just stay quiet and I get to witness 
the magic  of a morning band practice.

• Short Imprinting Poems
• Famous Imprinting Poems
• Best Imprinting Poems
• Read Imprinting Poems
• Long Imprinting Poems
• Imprinting Quotes