-written after the Wenchuan earthquake
In the event of a sudden disaster
I heard you. Farewell to mother.
Buried last words; afraid
Wavelength stimulation; A cry for the crumbling sky
Hearing you, baby's heartbeat
My expectation and your persistent expectation.
Listen, people who are enemies of each other.
Facing the dilapidated home
Confess and cry under the same star.
I heard your eyes in the tent and on the stretcher.
I heard your footsteps in the danger zone.
Compatriots waiting in front of the TV late at night
I heard the blood of a strange volunteer in the needle.
Lower your body temperature.
I inquired about your love and got a deep reward.
I asked my heart heavily until I reached the stone of indifference.
Pushed away by a hand that will never take back.
I heard a religion.
The image of God is behind me.
The light of love and commitment keeps gathering.
Command me to listen and listen to the power of prayer.
Go back to the heart of the person who has despaired in lonely expectation.
I heard your name, a teacher named Qian Qiu.
Hearing you, breathing under the ruins
Listen to you, the little girl who survived.
Li Yunfeng's howl.
They howled hoarsely and their voices began to turn pink.
On the streets paved with nudes, there are names everywhere.
Some people stood up, and everyone who stood up was dead. They spoke in a shrill voice.
"One night, only one night" shouted the clock at the corner.
The crowd squeezed out of the room with white toothpaste-like limbs.
The mask tears the cheeks and the teeth grow indefinitely.
One tree began to talk to another tree to discuss the details of logging.
Conspiracy about murder and arson
The axe lies in the bedroom, and the baby sleeps under the wooden handle.
They fell into each other's bodies, with their heads under their feet and their nails sharpened.
But the axe woke up and the blade lit up.
Metal comes from memory, cold, sharp, refusal and indifference.
The axe left the room in the middle of the night and the bell rang harshly.
The voice was chopped to pieces, and there was a voice saying, "There is sand in the body, and the eyes are swinging too fast."
The meaning of language is confusing.
Mengmeng was cut open at the door, and his internal organs were purple.
They began to become happy and hoarse. They jumped over the street.
The street has been emptied, the naked body is pressed on the road, and the face has entered the stone.
They cursed loudly, and their voices were full of pain.
Some people are buried by the side of the road with their heads buried below.
They are still chatting, one is talking about his wife and the other is talking about his father.
The tree stood by and told a joke.
There are erotic and bloody jokes, and only the axe is laughing.
It came here after the dream of two babies, behind the crowd.
Twist the whole world with a riddle
There is a man on the bed. He is half metal and the other half is in the puzzle.
He said the tree was telling a joke when the axe just left.
"One night, only one night" shouted the bell on the street corner.
Axes are crazy in the street, and the sound falls everywhere.
They jumped up and tore at each other.
Some people are howling. Who are they? The baby crawled around in the sound.
Some people stood on the side of the road with their heads down, and the tree said they were real.
At that time, the axe had just stood up after hearing the joke.
All the rooms were closed, and the axe went crazy and rolled across the street.
Its head is metal and its body is wood.
The two babies living in its head are red. They are waking up.
They howled hoarsely
They say it's not a mystery, it's just a joke, and everyone can walk in.
At this time, someone has broken himself, and everyone is laughing at this time.
At this time, there are only two trees left in the street.
One is a man and the other is a woman.
They kept howling and stood up straight with an axe and said
They just howl.
Shen recited a poem circulated on the Internet.
Children, hold mom's hand.
-For the students killed in the Wenchuan earthquake.
children
quick
Hold mom's hand.
The road to heaven
children
quick
Hold mom's hand.
The road to heaven
It's too dark.
Mom is afraid of you.
Touched my head.
quick
Hold mom's hand.
Let mom go with you.
mother
be afraid
path to god
It's too dark
I can't see your hands.
because
A collapsed wall
Take away the sunshine.
I'll never see it again.
Your gentle eyes
children
You may leave now
The road ahead.
No more sadness
There are no endless textbooks.
And dad's fist
You must remember.
My father and I look alike.
We should go together in the afterlife.
mother
Don't worry.
The road to heaven is a bit crowded.
There are many classmates and friends
We say
Don't cry.
Everyone's mother is our mother.
Any child is a mother's child.
Life without me
Give your love to the living children.
mother
Don't cry.
Tears cannot illuminate.
Our road
Let ourselves
go slow
mother
I will remember you and dad.
Remember our agreement.
Come with me in the afterlife.
Rain poem on the back of a knife.
Wenchuan, the heart of the motherland beats with you.
From may 12, when the day is about to fall.
Motherland, the home of our hometown.
Collapsed in this devastating natural disaster.
Dead teeth, biting tightly.
Everyone's throat in the ruins
The heart of the motherland was collectively shaken by the earthquake of magnitude 7.8.
Twisted into a ball of pain, chest began to drop blood.
Thousands of families were in tears.
The most worrying time
Feel the warmest hand.
The motherland started a race with love and death god.
From government to people
From Prime Minister to Little Auntie in Kindergarten
From land, sea and air to remote students
From workers to farmers, from the elderly to children.
Facing the death of showing off
They use sympathy and love.
Cast an iron wall that blocks life.
Let the accelerated death slow down.
Wenchuan, our suffering compatriots.
Our flesh and blood brothers and sisters.
Grit your teeth and get through it.
The hearts of the people of the motherland beat with you.
Zhu Hong's "Earthquake Story Heard"
A girl whose internal organs were crushed by a collapsed concrete precast slab,
The first sentence to the fireman who saved her: "I'm thirsty!" " "
Not only because the water hasn't entered for a day and a night.
The bleeding wound made her more thirsty.
The doctor whispered that you can't drink water at this time.
Firefighters only dare to pour a little water with mineral water bottle caps.
Let the girl have a drink.
She moistened her throat and felt doubly thirsty.
Think water is too precious for others to give it to her.
She took two dollars out of her pocket.
Did my mother give me pocket money when I went to school yesterday? )
-"Uncle, can you sell me a bottle of mineral water?"
Everyone present was crying.
This is a story I heard.
This is one of the countless stories I have heard.
Although I wasn't there, I cried.
Poet, stop writing those irrelevant things.
Write it down quickly.
I think the story itself is a sad poem.
I am not the author of this poem.
The story can only stop here. Are you like me?
Concerned about the whereabouts of the girl in the story?
No one fell
Buildings fall, trees fall, people fall. ...
Unlike fallen buildings and trees.
People who fall will get up.
As soon as I stood up, I was busy helping you fall.
As soon as you stand up, help him wipe off the blood.
Will he fall forever? Can no longer
Stand by and watch America? No, it's prefabricated with cement.
Two stiff legs that were pinned down.
Still trying in the dark: "I will try to stand up."
Even if I borrow your body ... "
No one fell down at the earthquake site.
All the dead people in my heart are standing.
They live in the memory of their loved ones, just as they did before their death.
Earthquake relief, strong output, rich. Poet, you have an extra task: "Write a poem quickly. Let poetry become leaflets, horns, alarm bells and painkillers ... this seems to be its long-forgotten mission. "
I'm not singing about disaster, I'm singing about people who suffer. In the face of the same disaster, all people are "capitalized people": they not only refresh their daily image, but also strengthen their literacy and combat ability. "Capitalist" seems to wake up overnight. All poets should also be "capitalized poets".
I mourn the victims. And bless the survivors. Remember suffering and cherish happiness. God of poetry is also with us in tears.
To the dolls killed in the Wenchuan earthquake
doll
if
Those construction contractors are more soft-hearted
The foundation of the classroom will be harder.
Maybe we can still hear it
The sound of your reading. ...
doll
if
The bamboo curtain that closes the road of scientific speech is more sparse.
Integrity network is more dense.
Maybe we can still see
Your smiling face after 5 12 ...
But the word "if" suddenly evaporated from the Chinese dictionary.
In an instant, you have embarked on a long journey that will never return.
The earth is shaking.
The pain of hundreds of millions of hearts tearing.
We beat our chests and feet and ask for heaven.
Whose original sin is it?
Let this human tragedy happen tragically
Nine days of silence
China Ermeng ...
We can only light candles to express our feelings.
Pray for angels with white wings to take you on a long journey.
Pray that you will become a beautiful flower in heaven.
We will communicate with distant galaxies with endless tears of nostalgia.
Pray that you will reappear every year when the Spring Festival comes.
Let's meet in Tomb-Sweeping Day.
Recite Longlong's poem "Let's save one more person" every month.
May 12 is nurses' day.
In the morning, my computer was completely paralyzed after a few days of poisoning.
In the afternoon, an earthquake of magnitude 7.8 occurred in Wenchuan, Sichuan.
It is the same level as the Tangshan earthquake 30 years ago.
2008 is destined to be as eventful as 1976.
Let's pray!
May the Lord be merciful, bless the souls of the deceased and give hope to the survivors.
Nature is retaliating against us because we have changed her beautiful face.
Seasonal Climate, Environment and Geological Structure in South China
It all depends on intercepting change.
What will we leave for future generations?
Merit and praise,
Science and garbage.
I wrote this selfishly,
I am speechless.
The Sorrow of the Yellow Calendar —— Reflections on Wenchuan Earthquake
My sadness is on the mountain.
Dangshantou collapsed.
It's still in its place.
In the original cloud
Singing bird
It's my sadness.
My sadness is in the river.
When the river flows away with homesickness
My sadness is still there.
The twinkling sand lingered at the bottom of the water and refused to escape.
It's my sadness.
My sorrow is in the jungle.
When all the trees fall down
The valley turned into a mudslide.
Silence and beauty no longer exist.
That gloomy never-ending fog
It's my sadness.
Tan Wuchang recited convex and concave poems.
Resume: No.7, Father Southwest Road, Chengdu
Suddenly, this unexpected guest!
The car bumped inexplicably and the bricks flew inexplicably.
Death is so fast, so familiar, so huge.
The earth is so far away, strange and small.
So small that there is no ideal city to stand on.
A reptile's crawling path, a person's.
A place of shouting; Small enough to be a bird and fly away in panic.
At this time, people must become bigger: bigger than death.
Faster, more familiar and closer.
Like Qiu, like a roller.
When I write these lines,
An aftershock, another aftershock, another aftershock.
They reached 92 kilometers.
Grab my pen! One time.
The pen fell to the ground and I saw it rolling around the room.
Like Qiu, like a roller, it seems
Try to put out the fire and smooth the ups and downs of the earth.
Simple Poetry: Finding Friends in Two Earthquake Zones
Sheep in Wenchuan, Wang Guoping in Dujiangyan.
Friends, two poets in the earthquake zone.
Can someone tell me where they are?
Who can tell me what kind of phone can connect them?
What kind of moon can make them into the mirror, what kind of poems?
In order to break through the dangerous stone, recite their news?
A man named Wei Ping said.
Want to read their poems-especially tonight.
Absurd book: nurses
On May 12 this year, nurses
I want you to pay attention to my Chengdu and my Wenchuan.
I want you to put the earth on the operating table.
Scraping poison and cutting tumor for it, eliminating evil and avoiding disaster.
I want you to finish all this before 2: 28 p.m.
Protectors, I want you to reverse time and space. I hope you
Forgive a poet's dream, absurdity and salt-soaked doubts.
I want you to spend the holidays like this!
United heart, a strong city.
If the creation of nature fails,
Wenchuan's shock is the biggest blow?
No, it's not the earth that is shaking us.
It's the devil: it's the devil shaking the earth and the will.
Our home, harvest, happiness and poetry are shocking!
Look, this devil, he has been to Tangshan.
Now it is Wenchuan. Come on, guys, lock it up.
Use all people to build this strong city!
The poet Mughal recited concave-convex poems.
May Day, or that day?
the other day
The morning sun will not appear in the afternoon.
Wind: the earth shakes and the mountains shake, and dark clouds hang overhead one by one.
Everyone saw my panic! First tears, then rain.
It rained all over the country before midnight.
the other day
Nurses celebrate their Nurses' Day.
There are so many people: no year has more festivals than this year.
They are really busy: no year is busier than this year.
Not before, and never again.
the other day
The earthquake changed the lock on the door: a lock locked Wenchuan.
A lock locks Beichuan ... along with my heartbeat, it is locked.
In the ruins! The mountain collapsed, blocking the way to unlock the lock. People outside the lock
I just want to be the key and the angry locksmith!
the other day
Buddha was born under the carefree tree for more than two thousand years.
On the eighth day of the fourth lunar month, the afternoon of Buddha's birthday.
The temple is a bathing Buddha. Take a walk and let people go.
A horse carrying Shuigong Mountain finally hissed.
the other day
It's not just Li Bing's water that flows in Dujiangyan.
And the blood of houses, mountains and children ...
1962, I was born in Dujiangyan.
In 2008, Dujiangyan made me cry!
the other day
At 2: 28 pm, the west third section of Chengdu First Ring Road.
Xu Jiazi and I are discussing the performance with the Municipal Art Theatre.
The curtain suddenly opened.
The drama that shouldn't be staged crashed on the slope.
the other day
A few days later.
I bent down and slept in the car with my wife all night. Drill out the car door
I found myself much shorter.
And the height of the home upstairs: so high, rickety!
the other day
There are so many people.
They, they, are too young.
But I hurried through my hundred years in Sang Yu. ...
On that day, Sichuan was in trouble and the globe had no face!
Zhezhe recited clear poems.
The meaning of life
The meaning of life
It's not about him. It's about life or death.
When disaster strikes,
I only have children in my heart. Kid.
They are the most beautiful angels in the world.
I hate myself for being too weak.
I hate that my wings are not full enough.
Try to open your arms and go all out.
But only one child can be protected.
Dear mother, don't cry for me.
Suffering and pain are over.
The road to heaven is covered with flowers.
Your daughter is also a beautiful angel.
Children, don't cry for me.
The teacher's dream needs you to inherit.
A life has fallen.
More hope is rising.
I won't cry either, son.
One day, flowers will bloom in this land.
One day, big trees and tall buildings stood there firmly.
One day, you will write the great legend of the Chinese nation.
The meaning of life
It's not about him. It's about life or death.
When I am away, love will always be with you.