What poems did Jing M.Guo write?

Loneliness (this is Jing M.Guo's first novel, written in the second day of junior high school. It rained heavily for two days and nights, but it didn't stop. Through the window, we seem to live in the water curtain cave, which reminds me of the heavy rain that rained for several years in a hundred years of loneliness. The damp room was covered with moss, and schools of fish swam to the roof. On such a rainy day, we walked on the street with umbrellas and stepped on the stagnant water. We don't know where to warm the city. The pretentious thermometer winked at me with cracked skin in hot water. Inhale what I breathe. Is it a heavy rain or a dying city of parting? It's dark, but I'm white. Is this God's arrangement when he is bored? Or is your tired soul asking me for a debt? Cities will collapse, cities will get cold, and cities will get old like me. Will you be walking on your own wooden bridge and singing my sunset song? Who knew that God was ambiguous in the bathtub? The smiling heart is cold, but the mercury column is high. What's the matter with your fever alone this winter? Are you laughing or want to cry? Inadvertently, however, I touched the corner of my mouth like a crescent moon, and it was like a knife killing my mother-in-law's bridge, killing my mother's slave, and turning cherry blossom into banana green. You walk on your wooden bridge, and I will sing my sunset song. Whose loneliness is like a knife; Kill my mother-in-law's bridge and my Niannujiao. In the sound of lights and paddles, it is still cold, and the water is still cold. In the dream, the silk and bamboo sang softly, and the outsiders outside the building, the mountains outside the mountain, and the mountain did not return. When people don't return, geese turn back and forget Sichuan early. Tears welled up in the eyes of the fiddler, and flowers fell on his shoulders. Shoulder-length, cold flute, residual window shadow. In the smoke and the sound of oars, where is Jiangnan. East Road, West Road, South Road, Wulipu, Qilipu, Shilipu. Take a step, look forward to a step, be lazy, and in an instant, the sky is dusk, the sky is dusk, and the clouds are dusk. The setting sun is everywhere, looking back at the smoke. No, there are countless mountains, countless waters and countless feelings. I have never seen the sea in winter. So even if you describe it on the phone, I can't imagine it. Why don't you say something and we'll see it next time? The long night is like a monster waiting in silence. It is big enough to swallow everything and be silent. My love for you, my love for you, my indifference to you, and my possession of you are all like sinking into the silent sea. There aren't even swimming fish there. There is an empty, cold and dark sea. A thorn pierced the pearl's heart. Tears of pain want to wash and pull up this thorn again and again. But in the end, it can only be wrapped in vain. Layers of shining tears solidified into pearls and hung around the beauty's neck. Pearl is a thorn that once pierced my heart. I want to turn you into my dog. I can touch you, kiss you and hug you all the time. I want to lock you up. I want to hang a sign around your neck that says "I only love my master". In March 2009, I thought about many reasons why we could be apart, such as distance, disease, war and the most terrible death. These illnesses, like the constant spring, summer, autumn and winter, silently face us in the years. I've thought a lot about losing you. It's not that terrible. It's still the same as my life years ago. I eat alone, sleep alone and wake up in the middle of the night. You and I were bored watching TV in the hotel that day. One antelope died on the Discovery Channel, and the other one stood by without leaving or looking at the dead one. It just stood quietly, watching the sunset in the distance. Like his partner, he didn't actually leave. It is waiting, and after a while, it will stand up again. Stand with it again. "Even if I am old, I still want to be with you." You stare at the TV screen and mutter something as warm as quicksand in the evening. "I hope" I hope that every winter, even the streets are heated, so I don't have to wear thick clothes, but you have to wear thick clothes; I hope that every time I go shopping, there are things that I want to buy for you; I hope that when you have nightmares, I will be by your side. I hope that when I can't sleep, I can watch you sleep soundly beside me. I hope you can send me a message, call me or come to me by plane when you miss me, and I will be very happy; I hope I can hold you every day; I hope we don't want a cold war; I hope you will always be jealous of me; I hope taking a bath every day can help you dry your wet hair, and I hope we can help you cut your nails after we get together. I hope we both use the same perfume, and I hope you smell like me; I hope you miss me most of the time every day, even at work; I hope I am the only one to take care of you when you are sick, and everyone else will leave here. I hope that in the days when I love you, you also love me, and I hope that such days will never pass; I hope to accompany you to the ends of the earth. I hope you really love me. A dream for ten years is like yesterday, mixed with sorrow and joy. Shao Hua has a pool and an inch of snow in the mirror. My skirt is wet when I spend the cold with you. Wait until the evening of life, and then sing this song with you. 9.25 Happy Camp I don't recite games, I don't have a bow and arrow. That winter passed quickly. Prajna, you have opened a bright stalk with three broken memories. Whose silence took away whose clothes? Who refused the curtain call? Who will always stage the desolation hidden in the prosperity? An angel with two chapters and infinite memories came out. A melancholy country without tall grass full of sadness. Birds flying south have been flying in the desert, and the canopy of the soul is blackened by the broken string in the north of Polaris. Since ancient times, I have been a hunter who lost his memory standing in the wind. There is no way out. Chang' an sword was broken long ago in the stormy night. Jiangnan attic swordsman is drunk. I'm not drunk. There is no more pink. Why don't I go out the window? It hurt the pagoda. The pagoda cried and cried. It hurts the lonely fence. Under the fence, it's my green yarn from Chang 'an. My burning peach blossom Daming Palace fell down, but I still have it. Standing in Daming Palace, I fell down and woke me up silently. Who is crying out the Buddha's lamp? Who's laughing? Who's laughing? Who is it after forgetting the tassel of this glass city? When you are hungry in a foreign country, who is asking your soul? I am very tired after passing the dragon chair. I want to go home, but where are you? Is it a desert? Is the desert Millennium yellow sand the end of the world? Or am I behind the end of the world and before the dark hair? At the foot of the white horse that once laughed at the west wind is the peach blossom you touched with your fingers. I said I'm leaving. I drew my sword. I'll kill you. Are you scared? You said you should go. You should take off your hairpin and kill me. Are you distressed? Snowfall blessing 1. On New Year's Eve tonight, there are big clouds floating in Tibet and grasslands. In my past years, I heard the loud singing of Yang Jinma, and the moon floated out and shone brightly on me. I covered my scarred shoulder with a cheongsam. I saw the skull of a crying camel, which was full of blood and yellow sand. It told me that I would go home. Tonight, New Year's Eve, my mother is waiting for me today. 3. Whose voice is that? My black eulogy floats on the black river and lies on the ground. Some mercury and some fireworks. And my black hillside covered with irises. I saw the beautiful Namtso, waiting for someone as quiet as midnight on the horizon. What else is there? I don't know. I only see its blue sea water and boundless vastness squeezed into slender silver palm prints by black mountains surging out of the ground. 5. Whose voice sang my best? The bride's body was carried to the hillside by the moon. My Ge Sang, my Shula, who sings the elegy? It's snowing. The children began to run, and the camel began to look at the elegy floating in the direction indicated by the seven stars. 6. I broke a black clay pot. People say that the years are safe, and the years are safe, so I know that there are blessings in the snowy area, just like my black eulogizing universe or the second hand in the sky or the faint breath. You stop in the void, you sleep in fate, and you wake up gently in the shadow of a huge hourglass. In the future, the gap in life is filled with compassion, and your dream in this indifferent world is blown into a silk thread by the fog. Rain slowly permeates the world and leaves the frozen wasteland. At the end of the world, killing is sung as a poem, despair is disguised as a prophecy, and then fate is pushed far away. It was not until the first bodhi grew in the Garden of Eden that we learned to find loneliness in Swan Lake, and finally everyone had an ending. On which bridge did you meet the novel the plucking of your wings and strings? The beast in the dream opened his snow-white eyes and breathed out the clouds all over the sea. Which wall does this bridge lead to? What is behind that wall? Who is looking down at the sky with gentle eyes? They say God is a boy. They know the color of dreams, my secret, when the playground closes, and how many windows are open in the school corridor. Does that naughty boy know that you have sad wings behind you? Autumn is a sad season. The leaves cover the secrets of the earth's crust, so you can't even hear your breathing clearly. The light wandering in the dense forest makes your side face half bright and half dark. I'm getting sad. I'm afraid your other half and your own other half will go out of the sun-do you want to come with me? Ok, where shall I go with you? -My home.-Where is your home?-There! When you gently raise your hand, you draw a river between you and me that you can't cross any more. The long river of time is deep and urgent, turning the strings you pulled when you were alone into clouds, and the blue sky is full of them, rolling into painful thoughts. Then break the sky. I'm here again. I am willing to give up the world I live in day and night, beautiful clothes and beautiful candy, and I am not willing to give up the good times and years. But I want to ask you, I'm already at your house. Why do you keep looking up like before? "Looking for Heaven" I leaned down and stared at you in heaven, just as you stared at me, slightly sad. I look up to you in Jiuquan, just as you stand in the wilderness and look up to your once sacred ideal. One day I will come back, bring back the fragrance of kapok and bauhinia, bring back our shining good times and tell you that I have found heaven.