cheung shun sang


Limbs Ending-Cauchy3 - Poem by cheung shun sang

Moths catch the fires to bright.
Dead beetles take the hells.
Skulls are canned heads at night.
Colors are tints and limbs are ending.

Booze up the bulls and find more.
Circles are packs of jackals that move.
Wolves are cunning but could not pack up the lion.
Paradises are human biotic biotins.

Birds have eyes or black billed.
Bills on trades have trade on.
Flowers have roses and men have rings.
Evolutions are eggs hatched on pure off.

Flying rattles are with swimming wasps.
Beavers have lodges and Americans have homes.
Weasels take the whistles of snakes.
But eating coypu is good for months.

With gods teach our preys to pray.
With powers there are pearls and jades.
Bad thinking is bad soups.
But bean curls are shaped hours.

Political hours are to logo houses.
Then all out are fair enough.
Good putting is off shoots?
A jammed minute is in blue books.

64 requiems are land over.
Deep seas six are offer.
Guns on and tanks on!
Gins are not wines but dry bones.

Moths catch the fires to bright.
Dead beetles take the hells.
Skulls are canned heads at nights.
Colors are tints and limbs are ending.
--Cheung Shun Sang=Cauchy3--


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, April 16, 2006

Poem Edited: Tuesday, July 13, 2010


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