The world has love because of you
There is laughter, because of you.
Because of you, this is very important.
When you are far away from the sun
There are always beautiful flowers blooming for you.
After the rain, you crossed the Tang and Song Dynasties.
Along the flat plank road
Go to the end of life
Someone will follow you.
Read your thoughts.
poet
You live in seclusion.
Weak and quiet
On a night as deep as an ancient well
Listen to the sounds of nature and flowers.
Then there will be countless tears.
Flowing through your face
In the dim moonlight
Bear fruit without flowers
You burned your heart with wine.
Wash the wound with moonlight.
You are always on the edge of the night.
Feel the sadness in others' hearts
Believe in roses in water.
Someone will sneak in looking for you.
poet
You are always in the candlelight.
Go deeper into the world than at night.
Light it with a candle.
This world
Because you are memorable.
Let people see hope because of you.
The poet's modern poem 2 has a persistence that is madness.
There is a kind of effort that needs no return.
There is a narcissistic passion.
There is a name called poet.
Poetry condensed my feelings.
Poetry publicizes my dream.
Half is the tears of acacia.
Half is the flame of passion.
Poetry is concise writing.
Every word is a star in the sky.
I use emotional silk thread
Wearing jumping notes
Sing my madness
Singing the beauty of flowers
There is another dream.
Crossing the rhythm of Tang poetry and Song poetry
Go back to your heart
Poet's Modern Poetry 3 The rape flowers in the distance are blooming brightly.
It seems like another spring.
That winter, the poet said
He no longer writes poetry.
The wound at the corner
On the dark gray marble floor
expand
Loneliness is like a deep town.
Ancient phoenix tree
A building that is neither cold nor hard.
The neon lights dimmed.
Stars in the night sky
It was still that winter.
Small leaves fell from the tree.
Western jackdaw in the west where the sky flies.
Break the heart of fallen leaves
Another building has been built in this town.
Like a stiff corpse.
The trees in the town fell down.
The poet's pen is broken.
He said he was a poet.
He said that he would never write poetry again.
It's another spring
The rape flowers in the distance are blooming brilliantly.
Weak spring breeze
Can't open the door of the town
He said he was a poet.
Live in a small town
He said that he would never write poetry again.
The poet's modern poem 4: He is a careless child.
Poetry is like wine.
Drunk for many years
A collection of poems by his pillow.
Make a great wall where you can't see yourself clearly.
Like all people who write poetry.
Use sentences of different lengths
Walking in your own curved footprints
He has never published a poem in his life.
Poetry is fermented in a damp pile.
Fireworks scattered in the air
Turn into a gray dream
The shadow of thirty years
No one came in.
This narrow space and mystery
The poet is by the river.
Leave the last verse
The name of this poem is death.
A poet left quietly like this.
The poet behind him
Realized his lifelong wish.
Take all the poems to another world.
The soul once again knocked on the door of poetry.
Poet's Modern Poetry 5 Poets and Poetry
Is an innocent child.
With relish in the scorching sun
Play with your own mud.
Poets and Poetry
Is a half-crazy and half-stupid adult.
Build a plane out of wood.
Dream of flying into the sky
Poets and Poetry
She is a woman over half a year old.
Insist on being a man for yourself.
Give birth to a lovely son
Poets and Poetry
Is a poor fisherman.
Every day on the boat that comes home late.
Sing a happy or melancholy fishing song
Poets and Poetry
Is a tired and loving mother.
Still working for children in the middle of the night.
Humming a soft sleep song
Poets and Poetry
He is an old man in his seventies.
In a friend's mourning hall
Singing melodious and touching songs for the elderly
Poets and Poetry
Is a humble person.
Have a crush on a lady
Never forget to say love.
Poets and Poetry
Is a clever shepherd boy.
Facing the empty mountain forest
Blow the leaves with your mouth.
Poets and Poetry
Is a dying beauty.
Interested in your youth and beauty
A hundred turns and a thousand turns.
Poets and Poetry
Just a stolen floating life
People who have leisure for three or two days.
Looking back on childhood endlessly
Poets and Poetry
Is a dying man.
The concept of afterlife after death
Talking about waiting for the next life.
Poets and Poetry
It was played by a man.
Or being played by a woman
The pain and sadness that followed.
Poets and Poetry
Also entered an empty door.
The sound of dusk drums and morning bells
This has nothing to do with emotion
It's also related to emotions.
Poet's Modern Poetry 6 Am I a Poet? This seems a bit like
Will I plant words in the fields I have cultivated?
The villagers in the countryside have told me about the planting festival.
Miss Jie is ringing the artistic conception clock for me.
I planted my jumping words in the field.
Words extract the buds of poems and sketches from the face in early summer.
Little ass, whose poems are touched by the breeze.
The sun stretched out its golden hand and spun green clothes for my poems.
Swallows circling in the north are singing my poem.
Groups of sparrows invited my poems to sing on the same stage.
White clouds floating in the sky stare at charming eyes.
Watching my poems creak and grow in the fields.
Do you know that my inspiration comes from the waves of Fenhe River?
Do you know that my imagination comes from that antique village?
Do you know that my poems are deeply rooted in fertile soil?
My poetry will flourish.
My poetry is a tireless singer.
Will always praise nature.
My poem is the spirit of happiness.
Always roaming in the land where I was born.
Friend, do you know that poetry is my life?
Just like Lu Liangshan holding high its vastness.
As long as my vocal cords are not corroded and broken
I will sing my poems until I go to the grave.
The poet's modern poem 7 ◎ Why did she blow it in?
Actually, I just thought about it.
If the world is beautiful
I reached out and caught a wind.
Free folding
I like ...
A paper crane.
It says your name and mine.
Hang a blessing
Tonight belongs to you.
I was just thinking about you tonight.
I want to follow consciousness tonight.
Put away the look of missing.
Look at the shape of like and love.
Let me know what love is.
Just like when the wind blows in.
I just want to know
Why does the wind blow in?
Why does the wind blow in?
I think.
Why did she suddenly appear?
Poet's Modern Poetry 8 Poets are dangerous occupations.
If you are not careful, you will die.
/
That night,
He picked up a cigarette by himself.
But I don't have the courage to light it.
Facing the infinite darkness in front of the window
There is only one piece of paper.
A few scrawled words on a piece of paper
/
That night,
He is blowing the wind.
Walking on the concrete pavement in the village
He is afraid of hearing his own footsteps.
A sound like plum blossom falling snow
Smash water like a stone.
/
The temperature at night is always lower than during the day.
Black is so familiar.
For example, the vastness of thinking
Can't see the difference.
/
In the evening, the poet is walking.
Extremely pale blue moonlight
Cover the wheat field like dawn.
Dry or wet
/
quiet
The shadow of the tree reminded him of the time.
Always empty.
I also like this text.
There is no existence without thinking.
/
It is dangerous to be alone at night.
Walking slowly will approach a cemetery.
Walking slowly will be a long way.
/
Thinking belongs to night.
Daytime is noise.
/
Poets are not afraid of noise.
Although it drowned itself.
Violent murder
/
This is life.
/
The poet is thin.
Like a girl's transparent clothes
This metaphor is very inappropriate.
Girls are too far away from poets.
/
We always see leaves falling.
Not thinking about the death of a tree.
Poets die easily.
Like leaves floating away
But I hate the meanness of trees.
/
Poets do the opposite of trees.
/
He has courage.
He is very determined.
He is not afraid of death.
/
Poets love life.
enjoy life
/
Speaking of separation.
Just because of deeper love.
It's as if we are far away from the people we love.
The heart will be warm and full of love.
The poet's modern poems 9 distant stars
I have to
See a bright moon
I can only see a bright moon.
When the dark clouds cover its face
My heart will grow into a roaring abyss of hatred
When the crow cries its night
I'll throw stones to drive it away from that dream.
At this time, the crowd began to make noise.
The moon, it hangs in the treetops.
I want to climb to the top of the tree and touch the face of the moon.
I want to ask why? Is the moon high?
The moon hangs high on the hill.
I ran to the top of the mountain.
The moon is high in the sky.
Among the distant stars
I found the ladder.
Can rise to the clouds
I want to climb into the sky before dawn.
I want to ask why? Is the moon high?
The moon is high. Who let the bad wind blow?
The moon was high and I broke my waist.
Why don't I know?
There are nine days
The moon is high and soft in the water waves.
I vaguely entrust
Sigh of dreams
Look, the ground is covered with gray dust.
The moon is high in the water.
Shadow. This is the highlight of your life.
The moon in the eyes is very high.
This is one of my shiny copper coins.
I want to use this silver lamp.
Change your sunny day?
Just in a hurry
Aroused hallucinations in the water
Scare the shadow of the moon
It's broken and gone.
I close my eyes.
Also sank with the dream.
The moon is high in the sky.
Among the distant stars
I can only see a bright moon.
I just want to see the bright moon.
The poet's modern poem 10 must proceed from reality, from reality, from primitive simplicity, which is far better than those long "epics" with gorgeous appearance and gorgeous language. Some people are always talking about the demise, trough and decline of some modern poems. In my opinion, the soil where poetry culture breeds already contains the ability to resist some external erosion. Besides, people who love poetry will
The audit of tea has always been a problem that binds and puzzles the spool. Many people are questioning why they think that a well-written poem is not only not popular, but also shot or simply rejected! I think this reflects several aspects: first of all, we should look for shortcomings from ourselves, whether we have deviated from the theme of poetry and drifted away from the matrix, or whether our foundation is really thin. Secondly, perhaps, the audited editors have their own understanding and interpretation of poetry.
The development of modern poetry has not stagnated, but I feel that there has been a qualitative leap. Recently, I took time to read many poems of my predecessors and read many "new modern poems" advocated by our generation. I found that the positive attitude, natural and simple words and graceful and euphemistic techniques in previous poems are all lacking in the image, form, language expression and psychological changes of poems. Here I want to give an example to illustrate the poet's "This is Beijing at 4: 08":
This is 4: 08 Beijing time.
The sea of handspring;
This is 4: 08 Beijing time.
A magnificent whistle sounded.
The tall buildings of Beijing Railway Station,
Suddenly there was a violent shaking.
I looked out of the window in surprise,
I want to know what happened.
My heart suddenly hurts. it must be
Mother's buttoned needle and thread penetrated her heart.
At this time, my heart became a kite.
The kite string is in mother's hand.
The rope is too tight and will break.
I had to stick my head out of the window lattice of the carriage.
Before that, before that,
I realized what had happened.
-Wave goodbye,
It is necessary to take the station away;
Beijing is at my feet,
Has moved slowly.
I waved to Beijing again,
Trying to grab him by the collar,
Then shouted to her:
Always remember me, mom, Beijing!
Finally caught something,
No matter whose hand it is, he can't let go,
Because this is my Beijing,
This is my last trip to Beijing.
The birth of this poem is undoubtedly inseparable from that specific background and period. In those years when the chairman called on educated youth to go to the countryside, the poet expressed the sad scene of leaving his hometown and bidding farewell to his loved ones with his keen insight, in the form of poetry and in the language of poetry. The pain of the child leaving his mother was clearly described, and my heart became a kite in his mother's hand. Best of all, the poet did not directly describe how the train started and left, but used the movement of the station under his feet to highlight the climax of farewell. No matter who reads this letter, he will be moved by the loud cry, "Mom! Beijing! " . This is the place that attracts people's attention most.
Therefore, this poem, with its simple and emotional sentences, touched millions of readers, so that it was treasured, copied and recited by everyone!
The modern poetry of today's generation has made a great breakthrough in the consciousness of poetry creation. The eclectic poetic concept and diversified writing methods make modern poetry follow the style and characteristics of the previous generation of poets and become a new pattern of self-created stream of consciousness. I think this is a bold leap to the future of poetry, and the future of poetry can only be better and brighter!