Love you with my clean soul
Late at night I dived into a river.
Those mighty winds.
Repeatedly blowing into my chest.
I know past lives.
I have been taken captive by you.
I'm just in the middle of countless nights.
Surfaced. Be an unrestrained koi.
When I hit a reef, who can see the scales I took off.
Sink to the bottom. Crazy grew into a white moonlight.
Who can be in the long middle of the night.
Listen to my whispers.
In the humble world I have been religious.
Embrace in your arms.
Letter from October
I don't know in the perilla leaves at night.
Is there anything about me :
The white horse fled in a slaughter.
Like a butterfly wailing on a tree
The voices of desolation glowed white or spitted blue flames.
stealing the sheep that walk in the Scriptures.
The wind was pressing and I heard a snowstorm on a winter night.
Hear a white horse or a hind indulgent in the snow.
Ride through a winter on a lush white plum.
I am your butterfly on the verge of despair in the morning.
I have surrendered to you the glory and glory of my life.
I'm going to talk about how the beech trees that inhabit it are after a storm.
Abandon my grace.
In the midst of fierce flames if you hear.
Green trains laden with snowflakes are coming towards you.
Please tell me how you will bury me.
Gradually dried remains.
The autumn breeze is blowing
I hate these winds that have no emotion.
Why did you steal my soul on this rainy autumn night?
Steal the only remaining flame in me.
Let me be in this difficult late autumn.
At a loss. When the autumn frost comes, please allow me to go to the Sansheng Stone.
Pray for you. Repentance for you:
Under the moonlight like water, I am no longer silent, no longer crying.
No more sleepless nights for a single eucalyptus tree.
The clusters of yellowish corollas are my brushstrokes.
Knock on the lake of your heart.
My tears are not spewing colorful fireworks from the wild geese returning to the north.
On the streets of Chang'an, you use fly-headed small letters.
Write down solemnly.
My life has been uninhibited.
Author:Geng Bing, net name: Houde Zaiwu, post-70s, college culture, member of Jiangsu Writers Association, columnist of Reading Sleep Poetry Society. In 95, he began to publish his works, and his works were scattered in more than 100 kinds of literary publications such as "Writer's Daily" and "Poetry", and won more than 30 national awards.
Read the Sleep Poet Shooting.
Face the sea and look for the light with your black eyes. Founded on November 16, 2015, the Poetry Club takes "speaking for grassroots poets" as its mission and promoting the "spirit of poetry" as its purpose, that is, the pursuit of truth, goodness and beauty of poetry, the artistic innovation of poetry, the spiritual pleasure of poetry, and the revelation of poetry to living life.