Wings Of Poison

let the sun dried up my flesh, and collaged
all that makes the painted image of clear
crystallize blue ocean up in the sky, crown
my throne

the mind the silent troops in time the
grasping of merit of what the hands reveals,
has fulfilling chain of the best of works of
the heart; like a slaking thirst of the mouth,
cautiously wait until the ripe moment will
come

like wisdom in the closet of sandstone
floors, touching the scallop art of design
ready to be explore, underneath the hidden
roof the potter hands

oh! the quench of urban China thirst, poison
the rainbow of beauty and hand to find my
stash the imported perfume of honey in the
smell I linger on

leaves my thirsting lips to the hands of a
dying Champion for a little piece of mind.....

poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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