Early morning of May 4, 2007
I got off the train and immediately ran to Huangshan.
Take cloth shoes, gloves and three bottles of mineral water.
On the two-yuan map.
Found the welcome pine Tiandu Peak and Guangming Top.
I'm going to take pictures there.
It began to rain lightly.
The light rain turned into moderate rain.
The rain wet the bamboo forests on both sides of the road.
When I reached the foot of the mountain
Countless shadows of yesterday are moving.
There is no rain, fog, trees and stones on the mountain.
I came from Guangzhou with a pen and paper.
Obviously, Huangshan does not need me.
Write an ordinary poem suitable for the occasion.
I turned around.
Huangshan mountain did not move.
Li Ding: Treadmill.
Let's leave now. you tell me
The road under your feet
The grass clung to the ground and bit its ear.
Some are subtle, some are controversial, some are tangled and gentle.
The wind blows high-profile words.
Put it all in your pocket.
Took it.
I can't hear you.
The grass is still at your feet, whispering softly.
Take away those youthful little sentiments.
Smoke you out
In those days, there will only be one.
Empty and desperate posture
Jiang Ye's inner darkness.
Heart has: moonlight on the journey
.
When the car passed Changxing, I saw the moonlight on the Hangning Expressway.
Long-lost moonlight; It's been years.
I have never seen moonlight. So bright
Moonlight 500 years ago.
The silver I scattered in the moat.
I heard moonlight, three-inch golden lotus and silent footsteps.
2.
It will be fifteen in three days. first quarter moon
Reminds me of a metaphor.
You see, she is more like Chang 'e.
Half a breast. Hanging for 5 thousand years
Still so plain and white, still so cute.
3.
Moonlight in the journey shines on the earth, rivers and distant mountains outside the window.
And lakes; According to Mina, her head was buried in her chest.
Woods dance in the wind, in loneliness.
Secretly opened and closed roses; According to the crow pecking at the corpse.
The fox rolled in the peanut field.
Sleep with an ant. The moonlight shines on the window during the journey.
Outside
Also according to the window, according to a poet's singing.
And the dream of 23 passengers. I don't think god has ever been like
This is fair.
2004/ 10/8
Anshun country Friday
Mubai: The stream at the bottom of Baoshan is missing.
The stream at the bottom of Baoshan is gone.
My parents had to leave one after another.
The hometown of dreams has been overgrown with weeds since then.
Large tracts of forest have disappeared.
These rootless trees
Wandering in the tall buildings of the city.
The narrow stream at the bottom of Baoshan is in the river of my childhood.
Clearly visible
One hand can catch a flower or two.
The splash of joy and happiness
Mother washes vegetables by the stream, and lotus hoes father who comes home late.
Scrubbing my beloved hoe over and over again by the stream.
My sister who is my age next door.
Two white hands
Wash that pink shirt carefully.
My cow leisurely goes upstream.
The stream at the bottom of Baoshan is gone.
My village, my soul is covered with dust.
From then on, the sky was full of painful shadows.
Tears, not water.
Yin Zijun has a diamond-like soul in the dark.
Tang deliang splicing
May Yiran: The infinity of water.
You are infinite.
In the cup, you are a glass of water.
In the riverbed, you are the river.
In the sea, you are the ocean.
On a tree, you are a tree's experience.
And now, you are in the sky.
Cold. Sadness. Joey. Happiness.
Fate! Let's all come down.
I am your container.
Qian Lina cricket
Cao Dong: In my dark body.
In my dark body
There is always a hand groping for something.
In the shadow of the lungs, it is obvious
Hit me in the bone.
I can't stop it, I can only say.
Lighter, lighter.
It wants to find, it wants to be squeezed.
A cold past
Those high-speed rolling stones
Now, be quiet
Waiting at the storm mouth of the mind
Split a sharp edge
Touch the rolls one by one.
Only I know these strange things.
Direction of appearance and disappearance
You Ziyan: Out of the window.
Leaves rustle outside the window. I know
Some leaves will fall to the ground.
I will step on them when I go out.
My soul will leave my body.
Escape into the clear sky-at this time
A darkened mirror
This meaningless abyss
At this time, it is spring, with a faint new green.
You can't turn a blind eye. The door was open.
Leaves keep falling.
I forgot when I went out.
I can't help myself, but this is my destiny.
Fan Xiaoya: The closest person in my life.
sometimes
You can see the time.
Traces of walking
Like a cigarette in your hand.
gradually
excursion
This afternoon is usually
It's a little dark
There is a sentence that is usually appropriate.
Say something
Nothing to say?
Look at his face.
think
This is from me.
The person closest to life
Ke Jianjun: Forgive.
Forgive my confession. For everyone.
say it out
The sign of leaving in winter can't stop a grass from turning around.
Forgive me for asking a river.
Admit the secret of distance.
So far away
Richer than the heart
Forgive my feelings about spring.
It's a little late. March is outstanding.
Pat me on the back.
What a painful beating
I talked about the wedding of a flower.
Forgive me for telling the world my love.
Forgive me, as an ordinary person.
Suddenly there is.
The idea of writing poetry
2003、03、 18
Wei, a girl from Sanhu Farm.
Zhangminhua temple
Flower language: from Qianjiang to Xiantao
This road
The reason why I can't go on completely
Because every step I take,
Everyone should carve some words and put a comma.
Every few steps, carve a few more words.
Draw a full stop
Like some gestures, they
Accepted or abandoned by other gestures
Like some abandonment, bit by bit.
There is unknown bone blood and crying.
Nest: carry the darkness to the end
Don't watch TV tonight
Turn off the lights
Stick to the dark to the end
Turn off the phone
Don't disturb
A man stretched out his hand in his own house.
Practice being a thief and not knowing your fingers.
The thief's head shows that
Thieves have brains.
Great
I can get there before dawn.
Steal yourself.
It means there are thieves.
It means the thief is fine.
Red Sea: Confessions of a Skeptic
Walking in the street, I always feel
Someone is following me, aiming at me.
Lying in bed, I always feel
Get up tomorrow and the grave will be left in the wilderness.
I always feel that the books I have read
It will turn into smoke in an instant.
I always feel that the water I drink
Bats have been touched.
I always feel that the wine I drink and the smoke I blow out
Will affect the whole city
I always feel that everything in my dream is true.
I always feel that everything I see is fake.
I always feel that living in this world.
It's like not being alive.
Su Landuo's diary: On the evening of July 24th, 2006.
I browse the web in the house.
Like a fish, it swims from one fish tank to another.
Without water, it is poetry that can breathe.
The stars in the night sky there are also electronic.
There are children shouting outside the window.
Grandma-grandma-
Don't say anything, just keep shouting.
Is it a boy or a girl?
A pair of little shoes on your feet.
Crunch.
I always pricked up my ears and waited for him to speak.
Until it creaks.
Disappear in my listening.
Residual strength hypothesis
Li Hao is simple.
Xiaomi suddenly thought of
Liu Dacheng (Liu Dacheng, male, born in 73, a native of Xiangxi Mountain, Hunan Province. I once roamed the southwest alone, worked as a teacher, editor and painter, and came to work in Dongguan in the spring of 200/kloc-0, and now I am).
Junko: This unfinished person.
This unfinished person
He chose to jump lightly from the window on the seventh floor.
It is right to free him from all entanglements with the world.
So, after he was dumbfounded, he hid in.
Father in the Rock
His mother cried for land.
They express their views in their own way.
The attitude towards this incident is also correct.
The only witness and narrator of this incident.
Should be cursed.
Because he found out, oh, this is not his invention.
That deep-rooted love
It's just hatred that we can't say in our bones
Chen is here and now.
Black dates: old pile drivers
Several times I put that heavy old pile driver
"Mao", "Mao" and "Mao" ...
I didn't know this was a place to make this secret.
Become more indestructible? Or crushed?
It's so late, still working.
It bothers me-when I am in a confused state of making much ado about nothing.
It uses its rhythmic impact.
Pull out an overnight train from the depths of my soul ...
2008.3.7.
Fireworks: On Earth
The world's harm to me comes from
My loneliness and sensitivity
My fear comes from my deep love for the world.
As far as I know
And invisible things.
Cold smoke: under the stars
You can't help looking up.
Like a vast dictionary from the starry sky
Find your own source
A star suddenly shines like a nail.
Nail you vertically there
So it was named and lit.
In the darkest hour
In this way, he was driven to the vast wilderness.
Like a beggar, his palm is spurned.
Pick up the crumbs scattered by the stars
Every ray of starlight thrown into my heart
Will grow into stone as scheduled.
-How did you find it?
How will you crawl?
Zhao Yadong went to the hospital to visit an old friend.
Duo Yu: Mom, don't be sad.
Mom, it's autumn.
Busy harvesting. telephone
Ask me if I found a job?
I said no, I still stayed at home.
I don't know. In addition,
What else can I do?
All the work seems a bit shameful.
All professions look like accomplices.
Mom, I can't go back. Don't be sad.
Don't be sad because I started making enemies.
I had a shameful experience. Don't be sad.
They beat me, scolded me and made me swallow.
Broken glass of the system, mom, don't be sad.
I saw the clown's footsteps stepping over the body. Don't be sad.
Don't be sad because they are having a meeting full of bad ideas.
I waited for the arrival of charcoal workers in the wind.
Don't be sad, mom. I'll get out of here eventually.
Don't be sad, I'm like a lost donkey.
It took several years to think of going home.
Are you sad?
I know, they tore up your beautiful clothes.
Hanging shame on the wall makes you sad.
They broke my nose and made me eat dirt.
You're sad.
Are you still sad? When I don't look back
Mom, I'm not begging for mercy anymore.
I suffer, I love, I use the conscience you gave me.
Tell me, mom. Are you happy?
I wrote so many words, and you?
Are you happy? I wrote many poems.
It's a pity that you can't read.
This poem, when you are free, I
Read it to you.
Just like that year, it was raining outside.
You stop in front of the loom.
Ask me: What classes have you taken?
I read the last lesson, mom.
I have graduated from that school.