Recently, I was lucky enough to read Poems of the Mind written by Li Zhenxi, which is an excellent and lovely book. It opened a window for me to have a more comprehensive understanding of the profession of teachers, so that I can learn from him and make continuous progress. "Let people be happy because of my existence" shocked my soul, which is exactly the quality that our teachers should have. Every night, he faithfully recorded the educational process of the day, ranging from three to five thousand words to tens of thousands of words. After one semester, it has exceeded 600,000 words! He insisted on writing poems with his heart, creating miracles, witnessing the educational reform, inspiring us and leading us.
Looking at the title, I was attracted. After I got this book, I was moved by Mr. Li's preface. I can't put it down and read it again. I sincerely sigh that Mr. Li really wrote brilliant educational poems with his own heart. This book, with Li Zhenxi's love and democratic education as the main line, "truly records the growth process of an excellent class, and records the conflicts and contradictions between teachers and students, students and parents, confusion and loss, pain and persistence, tears and laughter, plots, reflections and suspense." The language is simple and meaningful, revealing the love for students and the pursuit of noble personality between the lines. "What he can best embody in this book is" truth ",which reveals his love for students between the lines.
Miss Li named her blog "Walking with Youth". "We feel his love for children and his persistent pursuit of education." "In addition to a lot of teaching tasks, he has to attend many reports or academic seminars every day, but in such a busy situation, he still insists on writing the diary of the class teacher." Many people want to know where he got so much time. He said: "I just use a little spare time to write the diary of the head teacher every day." Sometimes I type hundreds of words on the keyboard a few minutes after class. I have to keep a diary several times. Sometimes I insist on keeping a diary every night. I even wrote a few diaries on the plane hundreds of meters above the ground. The diary of the class teacher is the work I have to finish every day, ranging from a few thousand words to one or two thousand words. " Teacher Li insists on "five one projects" every day: having a good Chinese class, having a heart-to-heart or written communication with a student, thinking about an educational or social problem, reading a book of not less than 10,000 words and writing an educational diary. Persistence is victory, and these persistence comes from "love". Teacher Li insists on it every day, is willing to work hard and put it into action, and only then can he gain and have a miracle. Flowers of Youth will always bloom in a campus full of laughter, and there will be wonderful moments in life when the soul writes poetry.
Mr. Li's Poems Written with Heart shows his original educational scenes and real educational feelings every day. "I also record the process of students' growth, so I am really listening to the voice of flowers when writing. "Miss Li insists on keeping in touch with many students in the class by letter, discussing ideals, life, finding problems and sharing happiness with them in the letter. The students once had heartfelt words: "Brother Zhenxi-although the blood is not connected, the heart is always connected! """This is not something that an ordinary teacher can do, let alone a busy person like Miss Li. I sincerely admire him! "
I asked where poetry came from, and love came from poetry.
I can't stop writing because of obsession. Poetry will accompany me all my life.
The title of a poem
-inscription
I like writing poems. Only a few people know. At the beginning is a Tibetan poem' I love writing poems'. Did you get a look at him? Honestly, that's what I did. Don't be surprised, 12-year-old women love to write poems? Yes, this is exactly what I like. My relationship with poetry was only a long time ago.
At that time, I was still in the sixth grade, and there was a' poetic style' in my class. This will belong to my dear teacher Qin. On that day, Teacher Qin read aloud "Picking Mulberry Seeds" by the Qing Dynasty poet Nalan Xingde, which made everyone fascinated. I also imitated a song "Looking forward to you", as follows:
Have the last laugh? Because Lang Jun doesn't know where to go back.
Suddenly I saw the wind coming from the rain, and I met with a smile to forget the enmity.
This has aroused everyone's admiration and added a lot of color to my love of poetry.
In my mind, poetry, regardless of dynasty, style and writing style, is good as long as it is written with heart. I once talked with Li Bai about wine and poetry in my dream. I once dreamed of going back to the Qing Dynasty and spent a few days discussing sleepless nights with Nalan Xingde about poetry. I once walked through Cambridge and discussed poetry with Mr. Xu Zhimo. I also have a small notebook for writing poems. However, later, because I was going to graduate, I put aside the matter of writing poetry. I didn't remember it until junior high school. I hurried to find my own poetry collection, only to find that it was sold by my mother as waste. At that moment, I was desperate. At night, I hide under the covers and cry. During that time, I was in a trance. But there is always a voice in my heart that makes me write. I wrote one poem after another for my classmates to see. They praised me, but I didn't think it was enough. I kept improving and improving. I also gradually began to expand the scope of my poetry writing. I also wrote a sentence, "Looking for snow", as follows: I see snow, sky, wetland and wintersweet, and I deeply understand its truth. I respect it; Snow bears plums In the first month of the cold year, see plum and admire plum. This word is not bad and has been affirmed by many people. I began to contribute to the magazine, and I declined again and again, which made me very depressed. The editor asked me to write some children's poems, maybe. I started trying again, and finally, my "night". Dawn appeared in a well-known but almost closed magazine, with the following contents:
At night. dawn
At night, the stars come out,
I said good evening to the stars slowly and politely!
It smiled at me and said nothing.
I like the night.
Dawn, dawn, the sun is out.
I gently stretched out my little hand. Good morning, Dad Sun!
The sun shines on me, which is very warm.
I like the dawn.
Ah! I can't see it!
Do I like night or dawn?
Writing poetry is like this, there are joys and sorrows, which makes people love and hate, but it is really interesting and fun. I love writing poems!
Writing poetry and prose for 3 midnight, I couldn't sleep. I want to write a poem for you, a poem that belongs only to you. There is your bright smile in the poem, your warm smile, your beautiful voice and charming eyes in the poem. But I tried to find words to express my feelings for you, but I couldn't find them. Poetry is no longer a poem because there are too many impurities and too many broken memories. That beautiful poem can only stay in my dream, in my previous dream.
I thought you were the only one in my poem, but later I found out that it was only my wishful thinking that I regarded you as the person who returned. You are just a passer-by, a passer-by passing by in a hurry. You just said sorry when you left, and you didn't take anything with you. I thought you chose to leave quietly, but left an apology. Should I say happy or sad?
I don't understand why you are a passer-by, and why you let the sound of hooves resound through this quiet city, a city shrouded in loneliness. I don't know if you did it unintentionally or intentionally. When the old friend didn't return, you just whispered: This is a beautiful mistake, and you are just a passer-by who didn't return. The old friend didn't return, just a passer-by, just a passer-by.
That's why passers-by disturb the calm water of that river. Why give hope, but destroy it yourself? Those women who put their sadness into Jiang Bibo must have much courage to bear your indifference and unrequited love, to look at your distant back without tears, to rearrange their thoughts and turn them into a pool of still water again. It takes a lot of courage to forget the old friend's hooves and immerse yourself in the dream of re-weaving, without disappointment and sadness.
I thought I could write the most beautiful poems in the world for you. I thought you could create the most beautiful words in the world because of your arrival. But the pounding of horses' hooves will never come back. This poem is no longer a poem, and there is no emotion to express in it. In the poem, the old friend did not return, and passers-by left early. All that's left here is an isolated city.
Writing poetry and prose has four layers of twisted scars, which makes the story multiply from generation to generation. Mottled, haggard and painful wrinkles, folding the groans of ancestors with blood and tears.
-Inscription
one
Changshan tune was sung with nothing to say, leaving only a sad melody distorted by parents' bitterness and suffering, flowing along the mountain stream, and the voice echoed with the heavy groans of Shan Ye's children. ...
In difficult days, this young boy who loves to write poetry dreams of a simple and clean mountain with his father's heavy eyebrows and his mother's faint lament. I am fascinated by the shy flowers in the poetic country and the green fruits in the literary garden. I gently buckle the dusty mountain with my fragile heart, write down my homesickness with beautiful words like mountain springs, and round the children's dreams.
Carrying a bag full of yellow land memories and dreams filled with patches from generation to generation, I walked into the rhyme in the depths of the mountains. It seems that only this far-reaching mountain rhyme can compete with this endless mountain.
two
A pair of big yellow hands stood in front of my father's thin stove smoke. In the green season, Dashan harvested the immature fruits of his life.
Tears slipped quietly on the white paper, wetting the words written by heart.
This piece of yellow land that can't go out and can't live!
The old cow screamed at the top of her lungs, a tearful teenager who loves to write poetry. His father held a slippery chain in his hand, plowed through the homesickness of smoke and dreams, plowed through the obscurity in his mother's eyes, plowed through the ups and downs of the sun, the moon and the stars, and rounded up piles of pale past events.
A long and short local accent slowly became dumb, and a long and short drinking of cattle entered the trembling echo of the mountains. Dreams fall and wither in the leisurely whine. ...
three
The night is short and long, long and short.
Cows wail in the wind, like ancient and distant bells, vaguely aware of the distant scars of ancient times. The teenager who loves to write poetry lost his life in the desolate yellow land, and how much sorrow was pulled by the shallow plow for a long time. ...
The gloomy and frozen eyes covered by mountains vaguely tell the distant, hazy, beautiful and striking dreams of the past.
The setting sun is gray, the smoke is curling, and the last cry of the dream is picked up by the sound of drinking cattle. ...
I believe that everyone will have such an annoying feeling when they grow up. In the face of something I like and love very much, I can only watch others go down this road colorful and harvest flowers and applause, but I can't help it. My desire can't be defeated by reality after all.
I used to be such a microcosm. I love poetry, but I can't chase it bravely.
Until more than a year ago, a teacher told me with her personal experience and what she did in real life: life should be dignified and poetic. What matters in writing poetry is not skill, but a heart that loves life and feels nature.
That's easy to say, but how many people can really do it?
I don't remember when I began to love poetry crazily. I only remember that I was young at that time, about the third grade. The school has set off a craze for reading good books in full swing. Every day after class, we go to the library to take a seat and read.
I read mostly poetry, because it is my favorite literary genre. Reading one poem after another, I will feel relaxed as a whole, and my whole heart will ripple in a different space. I will swim with the author in the beautiful underwater world, slowly walk into the antique pavilion and shout loudly in the countryside where flowers are blooming. ...
This is the most wonderful feeling of reading modern poetry.
After reading a lot of poems, I am gradually not satisfied with just sitting in this small corner reading every day.
I have a strong desire in my heart-I also want to write poems!
There is no reason for this fantasy, and I don't need to make up my mind. At some point, when I read Tagore's famous "Birds", my fingertips trembled slightly and my face must be a happy and satisfied smile. How I long to have such a magic pen in my hand, which can write countless gorgeous words and pour all the beautiful things in the world into my pen with fresh and gentle brushstrokes. ...
I am deeply eager to write down all the beautiful scenery in the form of poetry. But after all, I overlooked one thing. Writing poetry can't be done on a whim.
I just started writing poems, and I was full of passion. They were all bad and had no bright spots. Every sentence is very slow, which makes people confused about the key points and the meaning to be expressed, and it is completely chaotic. ...
I didn't really realize that I had failed until I showed these bad poems to my good friends and family and saw their expressions, without being surprised and puzzled. This makes me feel very depressed and depressed. I love something, but I don't have the talent to make it the best. It is really one of the most painful things in the world!
That afternoon, I sat in the yard of the community. The teacher came over and touched my head gently. She asked me which modern writer wrote my favorite poem. I thought about it and replied, "I love the poems written by Guo Moruo and Grandma Bing Xin. Their words are not only fresh and beautiful, but also imaginative, which makes people seem to have entered another beautiful time and space. The poem "Market in the Sky" is my favorite poem. " I said, and bowed my head: "But I don't have the strength to write such a good poem ..."
"No, you are wrong, son." The teacher gently pressed my shoulder: "I have always thought that you are very talented, and you can totally believe that you are great." There are thousands of poets and writers in the world and no one can imitate them. The only thing we need to know is, what is important in writing poetry? Not skill, not writing skill, but a heart, a delicate and transparent heart, not obscured by secular eyes. Look at everyone and everything in life with your heart, and go to nature to understand everything we have never discovered. In this way, the material library in your heart will naturally become full. Then, are you still worried about writing a good poem? "The teacher's words made me suddenly realize that my heart became relaxed and happy, as if illuminated by a ray of warm sunshine.
According to the teacher's words, I began to blend in with nature and face everything that was not noticed with gratitude and confidence. I also read many excellent poems of modern writers extensively, recited them repeatedly, memorized every word thoroughly, and thoroughly understood the feelings and feelings that the author wanted to express. I started writing poetry again.
This time, when I was writing, I was very peaceful and happy, without the noise and troubles before. Every word and sentence I write is the truest idea in my heart, which naturally shows my sincere love for teachers, relatives and nature.
"When the leaves of Huangguoshu began to fly freely, I took the teacher's hand and walked side by side with butterflies in the tree-lined path and bamboo building ..."
After writing this song "Teacher's Flower Tree", I feel very satisfied, and a heart in my chest wants to jump out with joy. I finally understand the mood of those great poets when they write poems.
I think now I have done the same thing as them. I put away every poem I wrote, read it repeatedly every week, revise it and give it to the teacher for comment. Looking at the joy and surprise on her face, I feel that all my previous efforts and efforts have not been in vain.
I finally took the solemn step of writing poetry. Although it is a small step, it has brought different surprises and brilliance to my life.
I will always love poetry so much, accompany poetry all the way, and walk proudly and freely.
Write a poem composition 6 Write a poem for you, in the sky in September.
Light should protect you, and warm air should surround you.
Write a poem for you, in the night sky in September
Give you the brightest star, give me to you,
Always with you
Write a poem for you, which is deep and deeply loved.
I want to play a song for you under the sky in September.
Write down all your joys and sorrows, and I am willing to share them.
Your joys and sorrows, I want to write poems for you.
Write to you, and I will inject all my love.
Express my love for you in words.
I will be affectionate and careful.
Give you my deep love.
I will write a country of love, you and me.
We are happy together and intoxicated in the beautiful flowers.
I will always write about you, because you are in the poem.
If I don't write, I will think, and I will be with you forever.
Because there is you in it, I won't leave you, I will write about us.
Now, I will also write down our future,
Write a beam of starlight to illuminate us, and go all the way.
Write a poem for you, write you, I believe in the near future.
You will walk out in the poem, you and I embrace each other, and love is there.
Our paradise is in the sunshine in September, and we are happy together.
Write a poem composition 7 The road to growth is long, and things change frequently. Years flow slowly like a stream, leaving a deep footprint of growth. Through the cool autumn, along the way, all the way fragrance. ...
When I was two years old, you were twenty-six, resting in the shade and looking up at the golden full moon in the night sky. You remind me that I want to look like a man who lives on the moon. I snuggle in your warm arms and frown; And you looked at me with a coquetry face and told me the story of the Goddess Chang'e flying to the moon and WU GANG cutting Guangxi. It was you who brought my thoughts to the distant Guanghan Palace. "I don't know the moon when I am young, so I call it Bai Yupan." You opened my heart and let me see the colorful world of childlike innocence. Mom, you are a rainbow and a fragrant sunflower.
When I was six, you were thirty. I squatted on the ground and stared at the moving people, forgetting to eat, and you didn't blame me, just hugged me gently. You told me that many animal behaviors are related to weather and behavior. Just when I was intoxicated, you smiled mischievously and said, "If you know the future, go to dinner first." . I can only eat reluctantly. After dinner, why did you explain to me that there was day and night? Why do elephants absorb water with their noses? The spirit of "rambling grass comes and goes with the seasons" ... all these have broadened my horizons. Mother, you are an orchid with ink fragrance.
I am thirteen and you are thirty-seven. I always cry because of the stumbling of life. You will always hold my hand silently, walk quietly in the park and say in a gentle tone, "son, believe in yourself, you are the best." You will tell me that only pain is called youth; You will tell me that only hardships can train talents; You will tell me that all fears come from inner fears, and only courage can get out of the predicament. Mother, you gave me confidence, courage and self-confidence, and led me to break through and walk out of myself. Mom, you are a fragrant bamboo.
It is said that "maternal love is like water", but I say "maternal love is like a flower", which fills the road of my growth and life and emits a warm fragrance like sunshine.
Writing Poems 8165438+1October 29th, Qin, a famous Chinese traditional poet, gave a lecture on "Introduction to Young People's Skillful Reading and Writing Poems" at the Provincial Art Museum.
Professor Qin used a poem to tell us about his decades of experience in creating poetry couplets: "Dance idioms are a dragon with three rhymes." The word structure is straightforward, and both spoken and written language are very successful. "He told us that poetry, like music, can bring us musical pleasure. Poetry, like art, can paint beautiful scenes for us. Poetry is characterized by conciseness, generalization, jumping, rhyming, easy to remember, easy to understand and pleasant to listen to. Professor Qin also told us that poetry can be divided into three categories. The first kind is metrical poetry, which has fixed requirements in terms of format, number of sentences, number of words, rhythm, rhyme and fluency. The second is free verse, which is relatively free in form; The third kind is folk poetry, which is mainly based on national traditions.
Next, Professor Qin taught us how to write poems: the first sentence is free and can be edited at will, while the second sentence is a bit difficult, so we have to bet on the rhyme of the last word of the first sentence. The third sentence is the same as the first sentence, but the fourth sentence is more difficult. Bet on the rhyme of the last word of the first sentence and the second sentence.
We reviewed our notes and Professor Qin came to the scene to ask questions. He said "I am a blacksmith" and asked the children in the audience to pick up the second sentence. A child stood up and said, "Strike while the iron is hot!" "In this way, the second sentence was answered and applause rang. Finally, the poem beginning with "I am a little blacksmith" was finished, and Professor Qin also took out Allegro, saying that he played Allegro and we read poems. "Bang, bang, bang, bang" Professor Qin began to beat the beat, and we read: "I am a small blacksmith, and I am famous for striking the iron. In order to make weapons, weapons are used to protect the frontier. "That's interesting!
Professor Qin asked us to recite "socialist core values", and then he chose a few words from these 24 words for us to make words. He first said that "wealth" is used to make words, and suddenly many children under the stage raised their hands. "Magnificent" and "Magnificent" ... Many idioms beginning with "rich" have come out. Professor Qin also asked us to use "strong", "human", "dominant" and "bright" to create idioms. He said, "Idioms also rhyme. I only do this to make you more familiar with some idioms. "
Actually, writing poetry is not difficult. If you master the method, you can write many good poems.
The difficulty of learning Chinese well is to write a good composition, while writing poetry is very simple, and you can always give play to your creativity.
Perhaps, when you walk on the road, you won't look up at the sky, but when you stop to look at the sky, the sky is empty, as if it were a blue ocean. If you look closely again, you can't help but open your mouth and say, "Wow, what a beautiful sky!" " White clouds float in pairs in mom's arms, and you will be in an illusion. All this, as long as the pen tip moves slightly, will constitute a lyric poem.
When you eat chocolate, you can taste its fragrance. Take a gentle bite and let it melt slowly in your mouth, as if you were sailing alone and gliding gracefully in the rich and lingering chocolate. Aren't these poems beautiful?
When you hold a steaming cup of frankincense milk in your hand, you will feel this exclusive fragrance, which will surround you like a silky white ribbon and make you sigh that life is so beautiful. Don't frown if you have a cup of bitter coffee in your hand. On the contrary, I think there must be many hardships in life. Don't back down. All hardships are like this cup of bitter coffee. Let's overcome all difficulties. Isn't the feeling after drinking a poem that understands people?
When talking to others, you can give appropriate metaphors according to their characteristics. If she is a quiet and pure girl, you can regard her as the bright moon in poetry, if she is a passionate young man, you can regard her as the sun in poetry.
Yes, poetry is that simple. Fill in your thoughts. In poetry, you can write any theme, and with beautiful words, it will become an imaginary castle.
How nice it is to write poems!
……
Writing poetry 10 Writing poetry is like magic, which fascinates me.
I am fascinated by writing poems because writing poems will make me feel happy and satisfy my little wishes. I can accomplish anything I fantasize about that I can't do in reality.
Once I finished school early and had little homework, so I finished my homework early and read at home. At this moment, the phone rang, and it was my mother. It turned out that she wanted me to finish my homework early and do it!
I put down the phone and thought, I'll do it after reading this chapter. But at this moment, my eyes caught a glimpse of a line of words-"the sweetness of dimples." This glance doesn't matter, but it made me think-why not write a poem and talk about taste?
At the beginning, I picked up a pen, grabbed a piece of draft paper and began to write.
"sasha vujacic", I waved my pen and quickly wrote two poems. I stopped and began to read. I frowned as I read. No, I picked up my pen and cut out many words. No, overthrow and start over. I rewrote two more paragraphs. At this time, the inspiration flashed by, and I kept writing, writing a few paragraphs, and finally finished it.
But this is only my first draft. Jia Dao wrote two poems in three years! I thought it over and over again, and time slipped away bit by bit in meditation. ...
When my mother came home, she was faced with a pile of blank homework and a poem. She had to look at me and smile helplessly.
Writing poetry has a magical power that fascinates me deeply.