27 "Modern Poetry"

27 modern poems

Author/Liu Kun

Mother chased by rain

I don't know whose mother she is.

But I'm sure she is a mother.

Mother chased by heavy rain

The heavy rain slopes along the hillside.

With uncontrollable anger. wind

It has nothing to do with its tilt.

Who exactly angered it? Life?is?so?hard.

Rolling on the hillside. Rolling on the bare hillside

Gravel, stumps, dead branches and those humble weeds

The unnamed mother was among them.

Her hand seems to hold something.

The eyes are looking for something. attempt

To find that mountain forest 20 years ago.

Tie the storm's legs

The sky was sinking and lightning split the gap.

Heal in an instant. It is raining harder and harder.

Mom's footsteps are getting faster and faster.

I don't know whose mother she is.

Mother chased by rain

A mother who is about to be flooded by heavy rain

I hate myself for not being able to help her.

At this serious moment, I seem to see

A mother, she bravely stopped the north and south.

All passing cars. Debris flow overflows.

This road-

I'm sorry I didn't see it clearly.

Mother's appearance

On the evening of June 29, 2006

Don't love me, really don't love me anymore.

It was a spring morning, and I saw a bee coming from.

The distant horizon is carrying a dripping sun.

Before my eyes, across my sad river.

Just as I stepped down the gangway, I saw two more.

Crickets and three partridges lamented on a bunch of withered plum branches.

Sad songs about my abandoned desert

I can't go back to my original happiness, I have to

Live like this. Because I can't make a big difference

Just like a withered leaf can't restore its original green.

Don't love me, really don't love me anymore! My coast

No fish, no shrimp, no green snail. Not on my grassland.

Horses, no cattle and sheep, no camels. Not in my river.

Sail, no bamboo raft, no boat

Oh, you don't love me, really don't love me!

If you still miss me, let me go through the filth and dryness.

Through loneliness, through my sad river, through my desolation

Desert. Even if there is a sandstorm, I will not be relaxed.

Close that half-open window—

2006/6/27

I was finally pushed to the shore by my love for the sea.

I was finally loved by the sea.

Push it to the shore A grave of sand.

At first, I went to her grave, presented flowers and prayed for her.

However, all these arrangements

As if it had to make me and this grain of sand

Buried together in this grave. enjoy

Mature happiness

I don't know how to describe it-

Just last night, she was in my

Resurrection in the body Terry melbanyan

With the help of the waves.

Slap my bones. Her little hands and

Lips, keep stroking my head.

Every component. Trying to build a

The whole me. now

I saw her make a sound.

Two tears, three drops of blood

Gently inject it into my bones.

Everything is ready.

Seems to have only waited for a moment-

At the seaside, there is a new couple.

Holding a thousand.

Wedding ceremony!

June 6, 2006 at 8 a.m.

World Cup

World Cup

At whose feet?

Slide down from the stars

You see-

The world is falling apart.

The movie stars and singers laughed.

There is nowhere to hide.

Hercules and I hid in

watching it on television

All the students are actually

Can't embody a name.

-China

2006/6/ 15

Blue coast

How long is this road?

How long is the coast?

Let the boat dock and let the birds fly.

Wise men sing

And those half-blood eyes

Let the tears flow

Flow—

Eternal hope

2006/6/9

The wheat fields in May are full of moving songs.

That's a poem, in your hand.

Fly in your hands. The footsteps of May

Like thunder, the wheat field is step by step

Measure. You always bring it to me.

Comfortable figure and expectant eyes.

The sun put another small lamp r/ > on fire. I listened in the wheat field.

Your sweet language. finger

The sickle split my throat at once.

The wheat field rotates in May.

Beautiful and moving singing-

2006/6/7

The road ahead is really difficult.

Who can finish the road ahead for me?

My heart is dead. Wuyue pasture

A cool wind is blowing. The vast grassland has been

Break every rubble and stone. Put me and the seed

Sow into the soil together, sow into the desolation of history.

I didn't stay, but what are you thinking?

Only pastures full of ideas

There are my deep footsteps. The road ahead.

It is really difficult to walk. Look, those people

Sheep are born out of time like white clouds.

I just looked at this snow-white photo.

Writing paper, eager to find

-Grass for food.

2006/6/5

Ah, come on, come on.

You come from the ancient rhyme of the Book of Songs.

You come from Tang poetry and Song poetry.

You come from the fallen leaves in clear autumn.

You came from the snow in winter.

You come from high mountains and flowing water.

You come from the moonlight in the lotus pond.

You come from the Four Seasons Hotel.

You come from the vast Gobi desert.

Ah, come on, my love

The moonlight is sultry here.

There is a continuation of life here.

There are waves here.

There are still some moments here.

Ah, come on, come on.

The peak of spasm has been completely silent.

Ah, come on, come on.

The sad world has blurred.

2006/6/3

that's me

This day will surely come!

Me and my kingdom, poetry.

In total darkness

Release salt and phosphorus fire. then

Turn into a green leaf

Or a piece of green grass.

Thanks to the sunshine outside the darkness.

That's me, a

A persistent pioneer

2006/6/2

May's worries

May's worries

Like the Shan Ye wind across the street.

Slide across the valley—

Only one wisp was wet by the rain in Mao Mao.

Wrapped around your thick hair.

Unwilling to leave. God of love

Just like I was bitten by wheat in my dream.

Eye piercing, incomprehensible silence.

Still in this mature summer.

willpower ...

2006/6/ 1

The days when the wind passed

I stand in your shadow.

Pick up all the troubles of the past.

I can't see your unyielding oath

Sorrow eroded by wind and rain

Still in front of that shabby old house

Waiting. I really can't escape this.

The days when the wind passed. Who knows?

Peach blossoms are in full bloom in that season.

This caught me off guard.

This unreal sky, the wind

Whistling past me

Lonely chest and flesh and blood

My young feathers were also

Take the bones one by one.

2006/5/3 1

Vows of the night

A dark night

With the mist of longing

The vows of the night are out of reach.

Wandering in front of the path

The birds are asleep.

The stars also disappeared in the mist.

Why lonely Nightcrawler?

Still staring blankly under the nighthawk's eyes

Oh! Isn't that my grave?

There are green mountains and green waters, and

Green crops. over there

I seem to see the winding direction.

A lilac-

2006/5/30

sacrifice

Baby, I know you doubt me.

So, you always avoid me.

Actually, it's me you're avoiding.

The burning fire in my heart

Honey, I know you are afraid of loneliness.

Like flowers that nobody watches in spring.

Actually, you just didn't find me.

i've loved you so long

Maybe you're testing me

Look at me when I lose you.

Is it strong or weak?

In fact, I've been telling me

Even if my heart aches.

I'll go through fire and water, too

I know you want my severed finger.

Write another promise for our love-

If we go through these years together.

It's just you and me in the long river of time.

If we live together,

I bear the sadness of life alone.

If I die tomorrow,

I'll pray to God to take the fall for you.

I know it's not your fault.

Pain, loneliness, sadness, hunger

I know that meadow is in the far corner.

East China Sea, Qinghai-Tibet, Mongolia, Desert

Then I won't get lost. I still have feet.

I want to run day and night and run to that meadow.

Let my soul sink, drift, tattered and naked.

Don't you believe me?

I have nothing now. Only one pair.

Dull eyes, by the stream

Look at the flowers, they bloom.

Sunrise and sunset

2006/5/29

Where can we put our love?

So what if spring comes?

Where can we put our love?

From the vast east coast to the windy and dusty

Mongolian grassland. Voices of flowers

It crackled and the solar storm was deafening.

The sandstorm roared-

Lightning, flood peak, volcano

Blood, feathers, vines

Wild rivers and wild shores.

Where can we put our love?

Our love was swept by a big storm.

Can't stretch in the broken time and space

Our bodies can only be hidden in a grain of dust.

Naked embrace distant generate's thoughts.

2006/5/26

At Jiumenkou

We are stepping on a stone step.

First-class blue Great Wall

Play the pass and the mountain.

Chasing the dead souls of soldiers

The six drainage doors installed on the wall

Straight to my throat—

The ruins of the water dungeon in the distance

Overlooking the closed doors, East Gate and West Gate.

When a fragrant wind blows

Vaguely heard the moaning of death row inmates.

We are tired.

Sit down and lean together.

Somehow, there are two places in the fundus.

Huge breasts, resisting everything.

Shooting swords and cannons

The grass under our feet is green.

There are red cherries all around.

Butterflies are dancing

The hillside jumps gently in my palm.

And red lips, kissing that.

Little cherry—

This was last weekend.

We spent it at Nine Doors.

2005/5/2 1

May on the plain

The painful expression of this night

In the interval of time.

Shake off the rain curtain of lightning and thunder

An ancient dream

With the rising tide of wheat fields in early summer

Floating to the endless green coast

The smell of earth

Spread your wings in the silent night

Bloom the flame of young mother

I never thought it was a simple phone call.

A gentle touch, or a sweet touch.

Kissing. Maimang is attracted by the magnet of moonlight.

Pollen is in impulse again and again.

Go to hell.

Maybe on the plain, the young mother's.

Breast, in front of my eyes.

Beauty and illusion-

May 6, 2006 at 7 a.m.

alive

A piece of white snow with plum blossoms is very quiet.

Ground flowering—

Part of her belongs to me, or thorns.

Or an arrow, or a fire. But I can't

Accept. Like the gentle touch

Frozen rivers, beautiful plum branches.

Naked northland, buried.

My mother and I.

This is another year of spring breeze.

The autumn wind is bleak all the year round. Mountain in winter

What's left on the slope, isn't it?

It is a short-lived flower of acacia.

Or the slipping world, eternity.

Loneliness-

2006/5/ 15

vinylon and cotton blend

Almost all adjectives come from one side.

Jumped out of the mirror. This suits me just right.

The desire to combine them into a poem

Those critics don't think so. These are them.

The most taboo thing. They always put those adjectives

Try to change it into a verb form and embed it in every part of the poem.

Therefore, I have to change my mind from the height of the double bed.

Carefully pick up all the missing verbs one by one.

Assemble, place and paste. So the whole verb

Pattern, most suitable for double bed posture. whatever

Looking left and right is like a complete song.

Poetry. So I can recite it aloud.

Although I don't have any pleasure But it has been

Satisfied the wishes of those poetry critics. such

My poem may defend its title-

May 6, 2006 at 4 a.m.

differentiate

The scent of a flower and a rose.

A woman who smells like perfume.

What's the difference

The withering of a flower and a

A wrinkled woman

What's the difference

The withering of a flower and a

What is the difference between a woman's death?

A hundred years later, that flower became

A woman who smells like perfume.

The woman who smells like perfume.

Turned into a flower. I became

A gray wolf

The immortal God said:

Only you can answer this question!

2: 00 a.m. on May 65438, 2006

The imagination of a wild grass

I have to pay attention to the imagination of a wild grass

I'm also very excited. Before dawn

She absorbed all her talents.

Illuminate every leaf of yourself.

Clear boiling after masturbation

Dew, in the impulse of love

Evaporation. Let the fog pervade the limbs, and finally

Feathers become butterfly wings, in the May wind.

Fly, die-

The next night.

crazy

The grass just broke Niang's afterbirth.

The cuckoo began to sing.

No one in the city can hear you.

Businessmen and poets.

All I can hear is me and

My parents, my village

My plain, my seed

And my wheat seedlings.

I slept with cuckoo in the dark.

I won't lose sleep. During the day, I

Love to listen to cuckoo songs. The old people said

-listen to the cuckoo, people are old.

Legs and feet are not old

On the evening of May 65438, 2006

Mianhuadi

A vast expanse of white plains.

Not "Doctor Bai" (Doctor Bai is in town.

Little women's cosmetics)

Not a shepherd's flock

Not white clouds in the blue sky

But she's always floating around

Drift from east to west

Drifting from west to east.

Immerse yourself in love for a while

After a while, I went to the distant indifference.

On the morning of May 8, 2006

Miss Uncle Shuangjun

Uncle Shuang Jun is my classmate and confidant from elementary school to high school. A few months later, I learned that I had a car accident in the year of destiny, and I was extremely sad. Cherish when writing poetry.

You just left.

What should I do?

We slept together when we were children.

What about the heatable adobe sleeping platform? I'll carry you to school.

What about the weighted flying pigeon bike?

And our only confidant in the future.

Where to play!

Ha ha laugh ...

Ha ha laugh ...

You go, you go.

I can't hug you anyway.

Keep this pot of wine. Wait for the next time

It was just the two of us, and no one called.

Drink together—

On the evening of May 5, 2006

On the issue of love

I will spend my whole life.

Look for the answer as if the whole world knew it.

-What is love?

However, everyone has a different understanding of love.

It seems that men want to fall in love all their lives.

Spend it. On the other hand, women have been looking for it all their lives.

The man who loves her. therefore

I have to start with a cat's call for spring.

Or from the death of a pair of mandarin ducks.

My life may not be enough.

So I decided to live in the afterlife.

It will take a lifetime to find it.

The biggest difference between people and them

Questions about love—

On the evening of May 4, 2006

product

Who will be the fragrance in the distance?

Throw it into the cup I miss.

Who made the scenery under investigation?

Infiltrate my cold thoughts

It must not be green grass.

It must not be that clear stream.

It can't be reflected by the current.

-That leaf's face

All I know is that my cups are full of fragrant attachment.

There is a king without a crown in my garden-

This cup of green tea

Moonlight cups and cups

Labial cup

Floating one by one

A dense and warm picture.

2006/5/3

feel

I already feel you.

Every twenty minutes.

The feeling of missing me once

Therefore, I must catch up with you.

Before missing me for the last time

Feel my own feelings

For example, my fingers and

Hardness of a container full of blood

These are all before the confluence of the three rivers.

Or anywhere green grass grows.

Go to hell Turn into dew

Try to get used to the smell of grass.

Running naked in it—

On the evening of May 3, 2006

I want to be the lion you long for.

-to the poet Hai Nan.

Have this idea

The moment I saw you.

To be exact: three seconds.

I want to be the lion you long for.

So I can have no scruples—

You are smart and gentle, and you can be in my broad chest.

Play posture. That's my territory.

In the south, you can drink horses from the Yangtze River.

In the north, you can try Sword Glacier.

It can also be like spring all the year round, with flowers blooming and falling.

Safety is not what you want. important

It's the arrangement for those three days.

You can go backwards. What worries me is.

Can a closed wound stand up?

The eternal tenderness of the lion-

On the evening of May 2, 2006