Excellent composition: writing a poem for the first time

I remember that it was a summer, and the teacher explained modern poetry in class. Because I often read some modern poems after class, I listened to that class carefully. At that time, the teacher was explaining Rilke's Leopard, and I like this poem very much. After his explanation, I was even more impressed by Rilke's keen sense and extraordinary imagination. So when the poetry in the classroom hypnotized most students, I was deeply infected. I just feel that I am full of poetry, and I am simply a poet. I think I should write a poem now.

Poetry needs images, and excellent poets are good at finding images from the most common things around them and using their wonderful imagination to create them, so I'm going to find images now. The teacher said that the poet's eyes would be gentle and poetic when looking for images, so I closed my eyes and threw myself into poetry, then opened my eyelids and patrolled the classroom with gentle eyes.

However, what should I find to write, the girl with glasses diagonally opposite? Women are really good images in poetry, but I think I'd better find an image that looks worse to create, so as to show my superb skills as a poet, not to mention my gentle and poetic eyes now, so staring at that girl is easy to cause misunderstanding. I looked up at the cracked' yellow ceiling' and looked down at the desk full of cheating answers, close to the desk that smelled a little sweaty. My eyes finally fixed on my deskmate Erpang-as a poetic image, it was really a great challenge for me. I thought you were a mountain-I tried to organize poetry-but you were a walking mountain ... Unfortunately, just as I was drawing some inspiration from the shadows and writing, Erpang suddenly raised her feet. Erpang is very comfortable. Judging from his intoxicated expression, he may dig until class is over. His happy face is a good subject for creation, but unfortunately, his happy feet also give off a wonderful smell, attacking my nose and dispersing my easily attracted inspiration without a trace. This makes me very angry, but in terms of free fighting, I have no advantage over Erpang, so I have to curse a few words in my heart and turn to look out of the window.

There is a flower-footed mosquito outside the window, flying back and forth against the screen window. I looked at it gently, without the hatred of the past, because I am full of poetry at the moment. Finally, encouraged by my spirit, the flower-footed mosquito squeezed in from a hole in the screen window. Mosquitoes with flower feet are patrolling back and forth. I think Erpang will be unlucky, because he usually attracts mosquitoes, which is why I like to sit at the same table with him in summer. However, the flower-footed mosquito suddenly landed on my arm. Erpang is still scratching his feet. It seems that he can repel mosquitoes when licking his feet. I looked at the flower-footed mosquito and began to write poems:

A box from Pandora

escape

Vampire goblin

It needs blood.

Will bring pain.

It can spread diseases.

Because it is a prisoner of the box.

It will be a mother.

Pregnant with new life

It seems that the flower-footed mosquito is also infected by poetry, and it sucks hard. I feel itchy at the same time, but it is also a good image:

Life alternates in pain.

Just like being born.

In the screams of pain

The birth of a newborn

The flower-footed mosquito finally dragged its swollen belly and staggered away. It seems that the mosquito into which I poured the poem is really extraordinary. In order to make me feel deeply about the image, it bit more than usual: I scratched hard while thinking. Soon, a big pimple about the size of a dollar coin appeared on my arm, but I still had a little poetry in my heart, so I took a pen and wrote Cain's mark on the pimple.

Late at night, I tossed and turned in bed and couldn't sleep. I scratched that acne, but it still itches. My heart itches: why don't I slap it to death? Isn't it more poetic to create tragedy!