Beloved parents

all the while, they both enjoy, all the time they rejoice
in every minute they always think, all the way everything
will be fined

now you come, in every lines they remember, for every
day they want it to be, in your side, they always pray, that
you will always be okey

rain my go, sun will stay where in their lap you will be carried
wondering always that you will be happy, for a mother and
father you will always will stay

as you grow, they waited you that, you will be free, in harm
in danger they watch every minutes of the day, for mama
and papa, your so dear to thee

in every meals they hold you so tight, even spoiled food, they
eat so bright, as you laugh, makes them so crazy for a baby,
a child likes you is so dear to see

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poem by Antonio Liao
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A Hearty Congratulation Of Pres. Barack Obama

a One Hundred Days, a beginning of dream come true, a
start that waits the flourishing wish to reach, the jubilation
remembered at the soil of American people's victory of
this 21st century, in the continent of the East

all citizens has to unite in the new found anniversary, each
one is counted and in every street, the cheers, the laughters
the joy of each face resembled that another new years has
to start as the past year has already depart

welcome every race, faith and fate awaits, America the
mother model of democracy, where young and old comes
in victory to live in the land where God has plan, always
forward to the heaven's flag the 100 days of victories you've
have achieve, in face of the world you wave

Congratulation PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA, you've
conquer the moist of the sand and leads the country to victory,
refresh and go, all our prayer lives in you and lead us in the
way to that promise day, that all people who believe

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poem by Antonio Liao
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Flourishing Idle

as life comes to an end, everything ceases no one
the solution leads nowhere to found, friends have gone
sometime brothers forget your name, ostracize by
many, only your own name is hardly be remembered,
whom you think that will not leave you, even at the
end of time

now you’re alone in the paradise you drunk...wake up!
Brothers’ time looks no goodbye, it's just move slowly
waiting you to drift into a memory of history that you
die, for each bottle of wine or rum; never the hard
drink would hold, to makes you happy, nor life always
say that every day is a holiday, always ask that vices
and lapses made you crazy and made every step
forwards uncertainty of no where to be found

face and flourish the idle in you, leads your own, the
high way is near and far looks the same; the clouds
seems it cloudy but its sunny, the ice melt and pour to
the ground, seen no drops but the air brings back to the

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poem by Antonio Liao
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Medicine, an icon of Hope.......

like a bow of Achilles, speed of light hit the bosom heart
of Medusa, the poison lance the heart of every soul that
worship the Zorather flame of eternity

voyage the Viking of the Saxon and lead the victory to the
place of the pyramid of Egypt, as all the wings of the angel
flap to the doorstep of heaven, where the timeless sleep
await to come in the dawn

let the wounded tired flesh, anchor to the hand that cherish
and fulfill the sweeten rainbow in each lonely face, make
the unsettle mind blamelessly witness the cooling cure of
the heart, for the last is always be the beginning of healed
in bastion of hope of the spirit

as the sword of poison perfume the wounded flesh, the
conqueror shouts for joy in the heaven nest, and let the day
be the healing body of gladness of joy in the profane
universe as it stray

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poem by Antonio Liao
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Laid me to rest and take me in your Hands

let the sacred soul return, the spirit that tired from a
bounded journey and nestle in the acumen of fresh
hyacinth of angels home, the endless paradise of the
seven heaven glows of avenue with the ONE

laid, my holy body in the engrave stone and shower
with a drops of the sacred fume of incense; with
the harmony of notes in the altar park to stand, glow
and wind the candle chandelier, with the angel's
choir in every ladder i step in the garrison of soul,
where I come from

let me speak of the language of the angel, and seat
a side with the judge as i remain calm, silent me in
the midst and wait till, the sun will lead me to rest,
touch me dear Holy One, for my aching soul fall me
down, leaving my wounded spirit to lay my head in
the soil, for i forever return

rise me at the end of the day; a second, a minute, an

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To foolish to fall

Though the eye is open yet! its close, and the stomach is
empty even the hand is full, what makes it easy if you just see
and do nothing, while the fruit of the tree is leaving to the
ground and the mouth watch in the air, as the worm eats by the
birds up in the sky

what then is the use of your head, if the water in the
bucket spoils the thirst of the soil, as for the leg is used for singing,
and the ear run for crawling in the dirt’s, all push every mind to
value what parts suited to move, to act and to response in every
action, the specific organ function requires

as creation made everything possible, the purpose brings
order to a proper activity, where every return leads to grow and
see what lies ahead; too blind, fail to realize the rendezvous of
success

heavy where you go, weight the reason where you want to
pursue, everything has to follow the bright reason that falling
apart is only, the beginning of staying you depart, wait and let it

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poem by Antonio Liao
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Flick my touching Aroma...

flickering crickets move the green grass to subdue
the tearing worm of fertility; as the soil rejoice the
honeycomb of dew in the morning sunshine wake,
the ending prize of growing prose

show me the path, the hidden shadow of where I
lay my dear booming start of my journeys forever
and go, to find the looks that I will be taken my break,
until the flicking magic of wondrous moment will
just end in wimp of a traveling speed will stay in
the midst of the sleeping break of joy

oh! what wonder makes the best in your eyes that,
the creeping sound of the night, awake the worming
nuggets of wisdom calls the light of a turning hope,
to open of what means to be true and genuine in your
heart, dear someone in my soul

nurture my weakness and paddle my arm for the
sweating fluids hold the key to know the beautiful of

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poem by Antonio Liao
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Athletes

in every games there
is always few winners than a looser, for
in every
episode there is always the
point to begin

the very aspiration of the body
pushes to start
to finish of what is being ignited, and as
it goes a feeling of
Conquering the star, inflame the athletes
to pursue its dream of victory

as the scramble started to swift, the
audience sees only the gesture emitted
to reach
the athletes goal, blinded the
shadow that underlines the cloths, there lay
a pain, emotional, spoil foot, dehydrated face
obstruction, swollen skin

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poem by Antonio Liao
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The whistling Breeze

listen, listen, the humming breeze calling each
name in the humid cooled air in the nostril sway;
that closes perfectly in the mode of the freezing
heart of early morning in the sofa you just lay, the
bumble bee wants you to stay and listen as it sings
your favorite sweet melody

stay, stay awake and suite yourself to
motionless blink, close your eyes and feel the soft
voice of prevailing wind of the moist and talk
endlessly in your thought the calling silence of the
moment; it has something to say and move and
wipe your tired body of discomfort for a whole day
your busy, even the cockroach may look ugly yet! it
give you the sweeten way to go

hold, hold not the burden, yet! let it feel, the beauty
of nature that whisper each day that sometimes, you
lost the meaning of today; the crow of the cock tells
you to remember that slowly down you’re in the right

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poem by Antonio Liao
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Give me a Square Circle

the motionless brain puzzle the cyber optic nerve
of the impossible, to transmit and connect; the
fundamental circuit of operation, a numb of the
entire system, futile and zero level of intellectual
capacity

life denude, the whole promise, the aroma of first
kiss at the wedding day, the witnessing journey of
the flowering Lotus perfume and the beginning step
to reach the waited dream of the future, the lasting
ending to mesmerize in the golden moment of
ages to come

timeless night, the snoring sleep tangle the
memory of your dream patiently I am awake for
what love may always come, in the listening ear of the
daylight of the knot enjoyed

the “yes” becomes the “no”, as the I do take the
I will, installing the lasting honest mistake of that

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poem by Antonio Liao
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