There is always an impulse to write poetry.
Whether it's the joys and sorrows at work
Or the ups and downs of life
I want to express it in the form of poetry.
Just like someone else's diary.
Tell a straightforward story.
In fact, I have kept a diary for many years.
Just in a different way.
I wrote my diary into a poem.
Poetry became a diary.
Diary is the genre of my poetry.
Poetry is the soul of my diary.
Diary is a paradise for my poetry.
Poetry is a frequent visitor to my diary.
I can't write poetry without my diary.
Without poetry, my diary is lifeless.
Anyway, I think so.
I won't say what others say.
This is my poetry diary.
Sunshine all the way, wind and rain all the way.
Record my spring, summer, autumn and winter
Little by little.
once in a while
My diary of naughty poems
Will be like a group of urchins aged three or five.
Someone will run away from me.
Walk into the newspaper network
Engage in business
Diary of Modern Poetry 2 How many years have passed?
Countless past events are like leaves.
Falling one by one
Starlight dotted the night sky.
My mistake is printed here.
Time flies in the face
I can only tell it silently.
Looking at the empty blue sky
Dispel loneliness in one's heart
Arouse the laid-back Qiu Ge.
How many years have passed?
Countless past events fall like fallen leaves.
Bit by bit is the spring flow in my heart.
My wasted time is remembered here.
Diary of Modern Poetry 3 I am eager to be your reporter.
Interview you during the day
In the lonely light at night
Write your diary.
I am eager to be a journalist.
It's hard to interview your story.
Must rely on imagination
Keep a diary every day.
When will it melt in the rain?
When can I hold you in my arms?
Let you and me
Review your diary.
You are very beautiful.
Grab my nerve.
I'm obsessed with
Dream of you.
Really want to
Write you in your diary
Let me read it to you every day
Diary of Modern Poetry 4 Diary is my most precious property.
Described my 20-year life course.
Recorded my 20 years of dribs and drabs.
It has carried my joys and sorrows for twenty years.
Open my diary,
Read your feelings and feelings twenty years ago.
Sometimes I cry with excitement.
Sometimes I will recall and sigh.
Diary is my eternal memory.
I have six diaries.
Fold it and put it on the bedside table.
They followed me everywhere.
I often toss and turn.
Although the covers of some diaries are loose and rotten
But diary is very important in my heart.
I still like these diaries so much.
Look at these diaries, past memories, such as movies.
It keeps popping up in my head.
The complex taste in my heart.
Poetry that forms enlightenment and traces
Diary content
Have a plenty of feelings from life, family and work.
Have a plenty of feelings after reading the article.
Have a plenty of feelings after watching TV series.
Have a plenty of poems written by Yin.
Through these diaries
Analyze and interpret yourself thoroughly.
Shuttle through the long corridor of years and move towards a better future.
Modern poetry diary 5 counts,
All the heavy rain,
In the diary, obviously,
Just, between the lines, you occupy.
Every time it rains,
Every time you show up, real and unreal,
In the diary, it keeps raining,
It's just that between the lines, you are dancing.
In the diary, there is no umbrella,
Drop by drop, loneliness under the rain,
Bit by bit, floating emptiness,
A little bit, connected with thoughts.
The diary is all about you,
One by one, big smiles,
Time and time again, gently,
Layer upon layer, loneliness, etc.
In the diary, it rained,
Between the lines, you occupy,
Without an umbrella, like a waterfall,
Only you, like a sunny day.
Six Characters and Staff of Modern Poetry Diary
In the silent infancy.
This season's page number, close one page.
restart
By the window, looking back, in front of the dresser.
Dancing flowers
And sour fruit.
There will be wind and rain tomorrow
Now I have all the memories about you.
Youth that we don't want to let go.
We agreed to see "Flower Season".
As red as the yarn on a stranger's body
Go too early, the flowers haven't bloomed yet.
Walking late, the grass has turned into flowers.
Maybe I won't write your name.
Maybe I have never been able to guess this riddle.
In my diary, at the other end of my heart.
You're still telling me
Away from the world
Diary of Modern Poetry 7 1
The day when the left hand is open.
Tear it off with your right hand
After graffiti
Throw it in the wastebasket behind you.
I found it when I threw it.
It turns out that many random strokes
They are all famous sentences
2
night
Candles hang shadows on the wall.
Like the last photo.
If it weren't for a cigarette butt.
(written) in black and white
Darker than color.
three
A shell
Whose tongue was hollowed out?
Give up the seaside
A girl walking barefoot on the beach
Lift up the red skirt and bend over.
Pick up the beauty of bones
four
household?registration?permit
Maybe it's Huangguoshu
Two people in a dream.
Suffer from ferry
Simply put the other side
As each other's scenery
Fill it up occasionally and wave.
five
Long river sunset
Jiangyuanshan
Gentle as a woman's excited curve.
A wisp of kitchen smoke in the desert
Raise the warmth of home.
I want to sleep, but it is dusk.
Scribble like a sand painting
six
The door was open.
Or close it and check it carefully.
Not a reason to go in and out.
Love and sadness are the doors.
Actually, it's unlocked.
All exist in name only.
seven
Moon winding
A woman and a man
Meet on toilet paper. Excited
Like the nonsense of spring
Found it at dawn
There is a pile of waste paper on the table.
At the foot, a cigarette butt.
eight
Dogs in Shu.
Stay in my hometown in the north.
Just to hold a parasol.
Put yourself
Grow in the shade of poplar trees
Even, with vigilant eyes.
Doubt the moon
nine
Sleep on your back
The sixth sense gives birth to feathers
Valley of heaven
Human fireworks office
The thinker seems to be inspired.
Present a bouquet of roses.
9,999 flowers
10
stand in silent tribute
Standing on the other side of death
Solemn as a monument
Hymns are vulgar and similar.
Life's pain and no pain
Who can read it?
Paper marked with age and surname.
This is a summary for God.
Good and bad.
There is no need to take notes.
Diary of Modern Poetry 8 I want to stop here.
Dreams and pain
No longer occupy the body and mind
Look forward to more distant prosperity
Forever after the spring in front of us.
I wonder if the next stop is close to happiness.
Wandering loneliness
I'm used to it.
But I'm looking forward to the waiting of the branches.
Harvest a long time together.
I think that life gives.
A wave of unrest, a wave of trouble followed.
How much I want to.
With the enthusiasm of dancers
An unbridled and uncompromising youth
I think people, you and me.
What a dramatic role.
Kissing crazily in the dark.
In novels and poems
I am sentimental and love and hate myself.
I think, allow me to have the idea of staying awake.
Who said the world was before I came?
It's no different from after I left.
You are still you.
I still love myself.
Nine hours after the diary of modern poetry,
I keep a diary with tears.
It's over,
Can't see, forget.
Only the salty taste is left.
/
When I grow up,
I shed all my tears,
It's like running out of ink.
/
I keep a diary in blood,
It's over,
The wound healed and the pain disappeared.
Only pale and powerless.
/
Maybe one day,
I ran out of blood,
It's like running out of ink.
/
At that time, I would never see it again.
In my diary book,
I remember you.
Diary of Modern Poetry 10 yuan
The sky exploded with a bang.
My world exploded.
Countless fragments flow in my heart.
In the soul and body
Let me go.
Dragged down the bottomless abyss
Enter jiuyou
I see endless vastness.
Let my heart be empty.
I feel the sting of my soul.
And pain
My eyes are empty.
There is a trace of blood on the corners of the mouth.
The whole face looked pale and unwilling.
In the world of consciousness
I don't know if I am
Still alive
Or come back alive.
Untitled
You shed a thousand tears for me.
I left a tear for you.
Breeze blowing
Quietly heartache
Slowly precipitate
Let time wash away our mutual affection.
grief
age
I'm really stupid sometimes.
Suddenly forget that you have grown up.
How can you be like when you were young?
Naive fantasy
My time is gone.
Slowly disperse
All that is left is a thick book.
notebook
Store my memory.
Memory!
That's unforgettable.
Not unforgettable.
In the most beautiful years.
you said
How could I forget?