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Lioness Onpaper Poem
The searing sun has long been a revolving revelation of angst,
repelling songs of the skies, sung by the strings of the wings.
Pallid, poised only by muscle memory - a compositional backdrop,
past the point of revival, yet something inside me still ticks.
A trembling truth that never drifts,
these broken blues: a silent shadow with loud hues.
The bones of me, tunelessly picked out,
until I'm the aching hollow of unamplified sound.
Where do breathing colors of me sleep,
when deadly nights of the air eclipse upon the web once woven by whispers?
Death just a dropped chin and averted eye,
the slow slump of a sinner's stagnant dirge plays out.
Let those cobalt stones cease writings from vicious veins,
where wilting roses dip their thorns in starry puddles with no name.
Now begging for exsanguination of my pain,
the measure of a man captured, still, in expired offerings of disdain.
Copyright © Lioness Onpaper | Year Posted 2025
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Lioness Onpaper Poem
Somewhere deep inside my swirling symphonies,
In the blades of silence and the clouds of chaos,
I find you ,
The rhythm of your rhymes,
The syllables of your sorrows,
The luminosity of your limericks,
Cumulating into a concoction of violin vibrancy,
A dangerous beauty making words glide far better than olympians on ice,
It is there,
Seeped elegantly , in the effortlessly executed flows,
Your feverish humor and intoxicating zest garnished in a sea of marble magnificence ,
A magical mind of a musical marvel,
You, the aura of rhymes! What a breeze of blessing you have become,
to this bruised being that shelters a wounded heart,
to this drained dreams that fears the fire that flourishes my art,
Thank you to your weaves,
The words you wrap around me like a warm horizon,
Setting a smile to those who look upon the breathtaking creature you craft.
Copyright © Lioness Onpaper | Year Posted 2024
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Lioness Onpaper Poem
Note : This poem is inspired by the artwork and we chose to focus on it from a mental health perspective and how inner demons can play a significant role in relationships as well as considering siren myth and legend.
I am the eclipsed dawn,
swathed in searing blooms,
hemorrhaging the heat of restless smoke
into perfumed thorns
and sighing thistles ~
whilst aching to be loved
beyond the damage I cast,
like the queen of darkness,
dancing with demons.
Let your exhaustion cascade into me,
all being healed between this madness and rest.
Incessant pull caresses insistent longing;
collapse and captivation fuse to desire.
Flesh and energy intoxicate these bodies
in the time before hunger evaporates.
Death charges on
as you follow me into the stillness.
And what if the first spark of stars
hardened our night into a kingdom
of ice and frost,
of hurt and hollowness ~
would we not remain infatuated lovers,
pouring poison into
the grass that breathes
in chronic colors of this doomed devotion?
Without surrender, we sing in silence,
yet our swooned hearts remain drowsy from swirling strings,
twisting and turning on a surface seared severely by the sun.
What better way to fill the air with the fragrance of our thirst?
Let us fade into the dim fog
as we cosmically flourish ~
a forest of lustrous chaos, unseen, unbound.
Hold me in a cluster of all your stars,
the delicate ones you’ve laminated and fear might scar.
I’ll cradle them in the softest scarves ~
but even roses carry thorns all the way down their stems.
Copyright © Lioness Onpaper | Year Posted 2026
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Lioness Onpaper Poem
weary
Deep in warm wine
Outshining russet moon
Glazed in the glow of honey glass
Gold breeze
Drifting
Along the flood
Of wilted summer smiles,
While my sky sings in the fall of
Silence
Copyright © Lioness Onpaper | Year Posted 2023
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Lioness Onpaper Poem
Vulgar pale appearance
Viscount of blood sucking
Vicious creature of night
Vulture seeking its prey
Venomous fangs hunger
Victims heedless to threat
Veins puncture on impact.
Copyright © Lioness Onpaper | Year Posted 2023
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Lioness Onpaper Poem
Stay steady and silently still,
Let me adore what your eyes do to my shivering quill,
I am led astray between my walls and your words,
Blinded by a cloud of these butterfly birds,
The weight of my vocabulary seem to have lost it’s gravity,
Relearning how to talk as I dream poetry,
Shall I be an ornament, anonymous to your broken heart?
As mine shifts in it’s grave hiding the pulverized parts,
I can glaze my skin in all the sonnets and balladry,
Let the sweetness of your tears drench me in melodious melancholy,
I do not deny the searing sea you long to purge,
Nor do I belong to the grief you submerge,
I am simply a fire set by your golden rays,
And we are but mere fools trying to outrun our own mazes.
Copyright © Lioness Onpaper | Year Posted 2023
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Lioness Onpaper Poem
What happens to this poetry embroidered within the walls of my heart,
When the joy of my words are shattered underneath your feet,
Can the torture of your empty moon paint a slithering promise,
Far across into my deep colorless dreamscape of dahlias,
Your dry eyed apologies took me to a mortal with no reflection,
As you hide behind your short lived excuses and homed cruel intentions,
Like a fool I was to believe that a rose could bloom in the peeks of winter,
While broken instruments illustrated a weak illusion,
Shame, These knees you held with such tender affection,
Poured our tales into my abstract dreams,
How you wandered into my eyes casting a waning crescent,
Hoping the fragrant of a swine won’t clear my sight,
I’ve stood by the hills, where it steeps down your hell,
Perhaps the burdens you trust and love are the saint in your spells,
Claiming clarity for a chaos that have you deeply compelled.
Copyright © Lioness Onpaper | Year Posted 2023
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Lioness Onpaper Poem
Let me be the first
to have the audacity to translate,
This piece of mystery molded
in a magical meadow of mistakes,
The reckless subject, there,
just standing still like a landscape of order,
Disfiguring a flow of ridged ribbons
in shapes of unheard names,
Carelessly manipulating my optical
constructors to articulate promises
from paper wings,
Bewitched by the light warm
slash of sun laid upon the raging tides
within trembling silence,
How far charms can go to seduce their
way into a destructive satisfaction,
Might it'd been too kind to dry brush
around the edges of your shadows,
When the basement of your
intentions homed disturbing dreams,
Hunting for the tremors from
freezing nightmares that pray to
bury my ocean and all it's devotion,
Where do the ones who
seek the sins of lost words hide?
While half of the living cling
onto the drifting light,
This shrewd figure that clasps on
the thousand synonyms of shallow tears,
Whisking a bath of blades for
my pane of glass that hold scads of scars,
The pace of time, travels differently
when I try to captivate you through my sketches,
I am told by the tones of my pencil,
that your armor shields a menacing maniac,
Too cowardly to battle for your own persistence,
So hold on to what's left of your timid thoughts,
Sadly strength has long evaded you.
Copyright © Lioness Onpaper | Year Posted 2023
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Lioness Onpaper Poem
On the eve of that somber, stormy night,
I began to see strings of spring swirling soundlessly
along the thread-thin blade of this culinary cutlery.
Why does gravity lay on thick in this silver steel accessory?
If only you knew, where there is a subtle screech of harmony,
there is a violent war viciously humming melancholy.
As the dust of what was once obscure drops from the passing clouds,
it sets in an assembly of soft, dull vowels,
waiting for the rug of grass to spread a path to the furthest mountain.
Why do I feel no raging colors from the twilight
yet see them so vibrantly?
How do I know nothing of summoning my movements,
when this adrenaline speaks distantly?
Alone, a rush of flame once formed, now shows the demons in the storm.
When this flesh and bones become one with the unpredictable elements,
I hope what prevails is the lore of my regiments,
where I bled into the disasters of my own shortcomings,
learning to rest without a bruise as I drown.
Copyright © Lioness Onpaper | Year Posted 2024
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Lioness Onpaper Poem
You have yet to see the bountiful ornaments in my orchard.
Perspiring perfumes of the passion we play and preview,
Weaving wonderful whispers of the wishes we ought to do.
Let me show you the silky thread of our poetry,
As I wear your handwriting all the way
Down to the very slopes you dare to kiss,
Demanding my eyes, to stay stoned into your hazel soul.
What my thoughts could do to your tempting traps, to your luscious lats—
When my lips could read the rhythms you bleed through your throbbing teases,
Braiding beautiful ballads on the nape of your neck,
Surely , an invitation for an appetite,
Oh, beauty of a beastly back.
Copyright © Lioness Onpaper | Year Posted 2026
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