"resoluteness" poems
She came into her life
A mere stranger of coincidence
Alexander McQueen ivory silk tulle
Empire line gown.
All senses heightened;
She was waiting amidst
The exotic smell of burning
Candle wax.
The scent of a woman clinging
To lustful air, white roses ribboned
Thorns tinting porcelain skin.
She hears the patter, not dislike
A small child coming toward you.
All senses are broken; just a voice
So much power in the echo
Of words spoken with such
Fluidity.
**** he ******* knew that
She was awake, Louboutin steps
Scaring the devil itself; what sin.
Walking through flames,
Burning, hot coals; presence.
Ophelia approaches, a creature
Secure, arms wrapped tight
And smiles at her.
Ophelia speaks to her; lifting her arms
To wrap around her instead.
A gentle hand, to the thigh
A soft caress across silver scars.
The girl feels; inadequate
And yet, forgiven for all she has
Committed; sins of the flesh.
It was only now that, this goddess
Of desire, lust and eternity
Could mark a soul, for she was an
Angel, winged feathers a glow.
She reaches to the empty soul
Challenges her resoluteness
"What can I do to help?"
Eyes welling, the sound of a
Tear, akin to a pin drop
In silence.
In that silence, words formed
Like cloud patterns, shifting
Graceful elegance.
Nothing was heard, all was spoken.
Ophelia stole her heart,
The girl will always be attached
By symbolic resurrections
Of strength,
Spiritual
From
The heart and mind.
© Sia Jane
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
O timeless sloth, I must with thee abide,
Let it be not to my own destruction.
Another life from me thou must divide,
Say to me t’was of mine own instruction!
I cling desperately to thine branches
I must weather the slings and arrows of
Most untimely sharp commands, and blanches
At my staunch resoluteness thereof.
Cease! Cease! See not the moss amongst my hairs,
Nor my talon-like nails, still, motionless.
Judge not, entwined as thou art in bland affairs
In your gray monuments to boastfulness
For nothing is equal to nothing.
To mime futile work is all but bluffing.
Nov 5, 2019
Nov 5, 2019 at 4:04 PM UTC
*Don't let it
get you down*
whether it's tomorrow
or the moment now-
still is my heart
whether events delight or frown
to faith I dearly hold
I'm unshaken on my very ground
Oct 30, 2021
Oct 30, 2021 at 2:00 AM UTC
The forebodings of the dark night call,
To the yearnings of my meekest soul-
To those days of yesterday that pass,
And punishments that've taken their toll.
Wherefore do these worries rile,
To the resoluteness of my will-
To those days of fulfilling deeds,
And the countless yen I let them ****
I might tread my path without vision,
My stars to providence on a platter-
Thy words shall serve as allusions,
To breathe for as long as I need.
-Breathe.
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
through the lips of
the horizon
a purple parasol
of attenuated *****
spread, flagrant is the crepuscule.
these are the exiled
in the heliotrope world:
trees saluting the length
of sprinting air to calm
these undulations -
painted are the leaves
with blame.
lips sinking to find answers
hidden underneath the
derelict of sweat, noisome moan
after quieted breathing,
heavy with the undeniable boulder
of craving's weight -
tongue naked, freeing itself
from the oubliette of flesh,
finding what is still to be
tasted in a covetous harvest,
it is indeed strange to be here,
in this absolute hour
of absent resoluteness.
to deny want and embrace fullness,
my eyes slope these visions
and then dive through steepness.
no words have to be said,
only their significations
held secretively as roots
are unseen flourishing in their
obligations to this flower,
your flower
underneath the twilight
of bodies crossing each other
out, love's derivatives
ensue.
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 5:34 AM UTC
Like the cold beauty of the snow,
Beloved, is your countenance,
And intangible as shadow
Is my own foggy temperance;
You are the rationale of thought
And I the haste that feeling wrought.
To my moonlit silver you are
The triumphant glory of gold,
The radiant sunburst of your star,
The tinge of my gleam, still and cold;
I am a bride in ornate lace
And you the veil that hides her face.
Like the tender soil of the earth,
Beloved, rooted deep am I,
And your grand destiny since birth–
The infinite range of the sky;
You are the grace of the feline
And I the faith of the canine.
O love! you are the Black pieces
Seizing a win against all odds,
Against my White heart's caprices–
The resoluteness of the gods;
I am the longing in your breath
And you the succour of my death.
© InscrutableAngel
May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 12:06 PM UTC
The day slips away
it wouldn't bother
to say--
'see you tomorrow'
nor 'goodbye'
the moral--
time and I
always the 'twain'
but me it's too keen
to deny
with words:
' that person
claims me a friend
and confidant
I think he does lie
for to none
do I belong
I'm no one's keeper
just an indifferent passer-by'
its tone is
harsh
contemptuous
incriminating
abrasive
and dry
am I
the trouble
that separates
myself
from life
or is it
but a trickster
bouncing its *****
of promised hopes
seducing me
right before my very
eye?
but no longer
am I
a child
to be beguiled
I'll stand
my ground
(while time
and life slip by)
in my resoluteness
ready
for a good
and
uncompromising fight
I won't forgo
my living right
I'll go beyond
myself
I'll reach
for the sky
and my words
of freedom
and fearlessness
write
upon its face:
'a man is born
to live
and must learn
to death defy
and invent
his own wings
to fly
where his heart leads
to lands wet
or dry
to every height
and no sky
will be too high'
I'll not hide
behind a curtain
nor construct
a wall
or fortress
least of all
would I retreat
to a lonely corner
my tears to dry
born alone
I'll seek no ally
if I stretch out
my heart
to the splendour
of love
to beauty's wonder
if my lips
are warm
kiss-ready
I'd have had
a foretaste of
life's honey
the grandest feast
I'd have dined
the day
would slip away
and me
it would envy
in its loss of words
I'd be left alone
in a world I've carved
and now I call my own
I've created
my own
bon nuit
and bonjour.
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 7:34 PM UTC
wish not to be
resoluteness of the giant sail
in stormy tides
but the innocence of
a paper boat
floating away in
in monsoon
Oct 5, 2020
Oct 5, 2020 at 2:59 PM UTC