In fact, I am also puzzled why the name Chen Xinian has been lingering in my mind when I go to work in the afternoon, and it has been lingering for a long time. Of course, I'm afraid I can't figure out why this problem appears at the moment. However, even so, for Chen Chenxi alone, he is still worth writing something down.
Here, I also briefly introduce my understanding of him. He is a miner's poet, which has attracted public attention because of his two different identities: miner and poet. It is also because these two identities are far apart that Chen Nian likes to combine them into one. Of course, in the previous reports of various news media on him, we also have reason to believe that his poems are really good, so they have been recognized by the society. Of course, you can also say on the other hand that it is because people sympathize with his identity as a miner that they will know more about his poems.
He is a man who writes poems with his life. In his suffering, he used the delicate feelings of a poet, and finally turned into lines of poems, shouting at the sky alone. Among all the ways to express feelings, poetry is the best expression carrier. Those deep feelings that can't be turned away, those pains that are trapped in my heart, finally come out through a pen in my hand, generate.
Poetry has the advantage of being easy to spread, but today, people have long lost interest in reading poetry. Today, some so-called celebrities, who cobbled together a few lines at random, still insist that they wrote poems. Today, there is no clear criterion for judging poetry, and poets have become synonymous with soliloquy. Poetry is declining, and he still regards it as a candle of life, shining on him and going on.
Chen Xinian is unfortunate, of course, but there are too many unfortunate people in today's society. It is only because he has a hobby that has nothing to do with his career that he insists on it, so he can be seen. His poems are certainly good (unprofessional judgment), but if his works are appraised by experts, they may not be better than some professional writers. Only at a certain point in society, the pressure and negative emotions gathered by people reached the threshold of explosion, and at this moment, Chen Nianxi appeared as a tragic figure.
On weekdays, the place where people may release their feelings of deposition is generally the cinema. With the ups and downs of the movie plot, those old emotions poured in, and crying was natural and moving at this time. But compared with a tragic figure in reality, the penetrating power of emotion will only multiply. People's feelings for * * * have found a breakthrough, and will eventually vent in the form of "love". During this period, this kind of feelings will naturally be sublimated and advocated.
At this point, I don't think it is necessary to investigate the reasons. Whether for others or for ourselves, our feelings always have a support. In the vast sea of people, how many levels have we not been touched by a real person?
Chen Chenxi's own story is still going on, and our own story has to be written by ourselves. Small people have learned to appreciate the world because they have seen the sadness and helplessness of life and their own smallness. Although the world is indifferent, the stories that have touched us are still slightly warm, which makes us bravely move towards the next intersection of life.
Here, I also choose a poem by Chen Nianxi as the end of the article: the story of explosion.
It hurts like a head shot in the morning.
This is an extra gift from the big machine.
This is not the fault of steel.
It's nerves that are old and fragile.
I dare not look at my life.
Hard and dark.
At an acute angle to the pick.
Touching a stone will bleed.
I spent my middle age at a depth of five thousand meters.
I blasted the rock layer again and again.
Reorganize my life
My little relatives are at the foot of the distant Shangshan Mountain.
They are sick and covered in dust.
How much has my middle-aged job been reduced?
How much can their old age be extended?
I have three tons of explosives in my body.
They are fuse parts.
Just last night, in front of their bed.
I exploded like a stone.