Jing M.Guo
It rained heavily for two days and nights.
It's still raining
I haven't stopped.
Through the window
We seem to
Living in water curtain cave.
Reminds me of a hundred years of loneliness
It rained heavily for several years.
A damp room
I have moss on my body.
Flocks of fish swam to the roof.
On such a rainy day
We take umbrellas.
Walking in the street
Step on stagnant water
We don't know where to go.
(1997) In the second grade of junior high school, Jing M. Guo published his first novel "Loneliness" in the national public publication "Life Sixteen and Seven", which was melancholy and sad. Soon, he received the manuscript fee and sample publication from the magazine 10 yuan. At that time, Guo Jing was overjoyed. When his parents learned about this, they also praised their son and encouraged him to continue his efforts. Parents believe that 10 yuan's contribution fee is not much, but the value and benefits it brings to his son Jing M. Guo far exceed itself, because it is the condensation of his son's hard work and sweat for more than ten years. When Jing M.Guo's works were recognized by the society for the first time, his creative enthusiasm suddenly rose. Since then, he has not only written some articles freely, but also participated in some national composition competitions for middle school students. Because of his solid foundation, his articles can often be published, which makes the students envious. The money earned by Jing M.Guo is used to buy materials for classroom study and his favorite literature books, and sometimes he also buys coke to drink; Sometimes, he will use it to donate to the poor students in his class. Jing M.Guo told reporters that he is an only child. He has no brothers and sisters to play with him at home, and he can't find peers to communicate with, so he especially cherishes the feelings between classmates and friends. )
Those songs, like heaven, like dreams, like clouds, like electricity, like tears, like flowers, like wind, like andante, like Shaanxi opera.
My black elegy
Who sings the black elegy?
Who is guarding the white village?
My mercury
My fireworks
My black hillside is covered with irises.
A vivid calendar
loner
Burning bright and clear soul.
You are me.
A tender wound that refuses to heal
Camel's head, flowing wine
Empty buildings in Syracuse
I want to hold buckwheat's hand
Walk against the wind
Go to the clouds
To peach blossom
The source of this river
Whose right hand picked up the silver needle?
Roll up your cuffs.
Buckle gold pieces of copper coins
Sewing at the end of my world
Whose loneliness?
Wohuashang
Whose Chinese businessman?
Cover my scarred shoulders
Whose bright moon?
According to my black pine mountain.
Whose loneliness?
It hurts the roaring Cangjiang River in the mountains.
Whose is that lonely child?
Evodia capitata
Leaf leaf
Indulge in singing
So huge
So desolate
Hand of the river
Throat at at night
Moonlight holds up the bamboo building.
Who will cook sake for me?
Those burning bamboo tubes
Those blooming wounds
My Gemini
One at this end.
One is over there.
(This is a poem by Jing M.Guo, taken from his < gt; I don't appreciate him, depressed, lonely and decadent. I wanted to return this book to my classmates at once, but his poems are great! So take it off and share it with everyone ~ ~ ~ ~)
The world shines when it is broken,
Shining with once faint youth and years separated from each other.
Iris gradually climbed up all the hillsides and watched the arrival of Black Poetry.
Those poems that are circulated sing legends, and those who sing legends in legends,
Those people have nurtured countless journeys in countless eyes.
Mixed with youth and happy past, unknown origin, unknown origin.
Only when the years return along the road do wizards paint with bright gold paint and silver powder.
So the whistling arrow in the forest was born in the dark years.
The once gloomy clothes instantly glow with crescent-like white light,
You were young, you were handsome, you were silent, you were kind, and after many years, you returned to pure white at the age of seventeen.
Once lonely, become no longer lonely.
This world is a happy playground in your hands, and no one can close it except you.
So the sky is gorgeous and reeds linger,
You show up at the intersection of poverty with a Zhang Mingliang face and white hair.
Like the summer when the solstice was lost many years ago.
The world shines when it is broken,
Shining with once faint youth and years separated from each other.
Iris gradually climbed up all the hillsides and watched the arrival of Black Poetry.
Those poems that are circulated sing legends, and those who sing legends in legends,
Those people have nurtured countless journeys in countless eyes.
Mixed with youth and happy past, unknown origin, unknown origin.
Only when the years return along the road do wizards paint with bright gold paint and silver powder.
So the whistling arrow in the forest was born in the dark years.
The once gloomy clothes instantly glow with crescent-like white light,
You were young, you were handsome, you were silent, you were kind, and after many years, you returned to pure white at the age of seventeen.
Once lonely, become no longer lonely.
This world is a happy playground in your hands, and no one can close it except you.
So the sky is gorgeous and reeds linger,
You show up at the intersection of poverty with a Zhang Mingliang face and white hair.
Like the summer when the solstice was lost many years ago.
Nuancheng
An exaggerated thermometer blinks.
I breathe with my cracked skin in hot water.
Breathe what?
What am I breathing?
It's raining heavily
Or faded parting?
The city is dark, but I am white.
Is this God's arrangement when he is bored?
Or is this your tired soul?
Borrow money from me.
Cities will fall, cities will get cold.
This city will grow old like me.
Could it be that time?
You take your own wooden bridge.
I sang my sunset song.
Who knows? Who knows?
God smiled vaguely in the bathtub.
The heart is cold, but mercury is high.
What is the lonely fever this winter?
Are you laughing or want to cry?
But inadvertently touched the corners of the mouth.
Like a meniscus or a knife.
Kill my grandma bridge
Kill my Niannujiao
There is a lonely long street.
1
There is a lonely long street.
Both sides are covered with panic phoenix trees.
Branch confusion
Pierce the sky
There is a lonely long street.
The black wind surged through the hall.
Shepherd boy, I'm asking you
What time tomorrow night?
2
I gotta find you
Are you in that lonely long street?
three
A cloudy day came at me
A leaf fell off.
An autumn has arrived.
A child got lost.
On that lonely long street
four
Ignite the spine
Gradually burn to the soul.
My ticket is a round trip ticket.
Or one way?
There are some cuts in the lonely zone.
Some sword marks
I will never come back.
Burning the palm print of fate.
five
Those lonely winds, those lonely people
My heaven burns with a smile.
Whose eyes are not pure enough?
Whose shoulders are not stable enough?
six
There is a lonely long street.
It began to snow and rustle.
Whose loneliness,
Clothes make me look good.
Whose skirt,
Cover my scarred shoulders.
Whose bright moon,
According to my black pine mountain.
Whose loneliness,
What hurts is the night wind whistling in the mountains.
Whose is that lonely child? His head got stuck in the dogwood.
Night after night, singing heartily.
So huge ...
So desolate ...
Who sings the black elegy,
He guarded the white village,
My mercury,
My fireworks,
My black hillside is covered with irises.
Busy wind, lonely people.
A hearty soul.
You are me,
A fragile wound that refuses to heal. ...
-Jing M.Guo's The Edge of Love and Pain and A Child Looking Up at the Sky 4.