Good poems of the day
A statement from a babbling patient
As you mentioned. You ring the doorbell.
Couples of yesteryear.
A groomed head pokes out of the lungs.
I've been here before.
The young face is like a brother who has been missing for many years.
Like two poetry books that I don't want to read.
It's not yet a river.
was put on hold. Someone said to me the meaning of an adverb.
It's about how to be true to the subject.
For example, vigilance. Or a cold and lonely look.
How to go deep into the barren land.
But what I want to know more is the one who came later.
How to lose you.
Ah, unfortunately. It's me.
I am the ice of a thousand and one nights
On a cold night, I was a frozen viper.
It's just that it's still in its mouth.
A mass of longing to burn.
Flame. - In the cold night, I am the ice of a thousand and one nights.
When the stars light up the pearls of the night, I am as warm as beautiful.
Spring. I still love, I love the wild lily.
Love the blooming stamens of wild lilies.
I was lost year after year, relying on these lost, year after year.
I found the trail to stitch my memories together.
Ah, the cold night.
I'm beautiful, I'm not dead.
I bypassed the miasma of death as I gently stroked the layers of air.
A layer of wrinkles, I see.
The spacious world is filled with seawater.
Think
With a reflection on life.
I couldn't sleep.
I am afraid of a conscience that I want to cover but can't cover.
Fly out of the dream and condemn yourself.
I suffer from autism.
But they long to fly freely.
You see, my chest and back.
Those who fall asleep are awake.
People are chased by life.
Like a figure of eight pacing solemn aristocratic steps.
Haiyan's singing is always so urgent.
Sail through the mast that is too late to pull up.
I went to bed early in the morning.
Expel the noise outside the window with a muddy snoring.
But I'll never be better than the one who wakes up.
Know more about the ...... of death
A song for middle-aged and elderly people
That's all we can do.
Eat, sleep, and swing through an old song.
Occasionally, I go for a walk on the road that used to be.
Pick up scattered dead branches.
In the years when there was no passing on the torch.
Gasp. Other than that, I don't think there's anything good about spring.
I don't think there's anything bad about winter.
It's all life, it's all warm and cold year after year.
Past is over.
Every page of the years is its own.
The feeling of chewing it up, too.
Gusto. Our dreams are still messing around.
Varied, strong and brave.
Like a wounded warrior in a trench.
Don't be angry. What else, you say what else.
It's nothing more than sleeping when you want to sleep and eating when you want to eat.
We live day by day.
From the shadows of children and grandchildren.
A knowing smile
I lost my courage
It's raining, it's raining.
At night, moisturizing things is silent.
A kind of longing, let the mouth praise.
Restlessness. The heart began to shake.
Because of the full mouth empathy, don't fall in love.
Because I don't dare to try again.
Unscrew the floodgates of the heart.
I lost my courage and lost.
The courage to pursue the truth.
Nothing but reluctantly.
It's worth taking care of.
If tonight's thunder and lightning flash.
Just to call, then let me die.
There is no love in life, hearsay on the road.
The parabolic end of life.
Planted to the bottom. Fame and fortune are gone.
I lost my courage and lost.
Strategizing thoughts.
Nothing but nostalgia is left.
can be heightened.
An old heart.
In the jars and jars of the past.
It's as if loose breasts need to be supported.
Everything that once was, because of the calculation all day long.
Rickets waist; Maybe.
The cracked smile has been closed by the wrinkled lips.
It's not just the footsteps that persist in stumbling.
I lost my courage and lost.
The sonic roar of the house.
Nothing but loneliness.
Be the guardian of the heart.
Everything, will be numb.
Only friendship has gone through the fermentation of years.
It comes to life
In the spring. As I pass by those bright floor-to-ceiling glasses
As I pass by those bright floor-to-ceiling glasses
I found what was once high mountains and flowing waters.
The seal of love is back to its place.
This is the forest I love.
Persistence, preference, two bodies that can't help it.
In order to protect the weakness in my heart.
The sun has made my shadow uneven.
Those ants who listen to them in vain.
You don't have to be afraid of being punished.
As I pass by those bright floor-to-ceiling glasses
I'm working on even and odd numbers.
Will the sun and the moon be.
Co-living in a one-room ......
My dear, the embankment of a thousand miles.
Maybe it wasn't destroyed in an anthill. Nest.
Just a façade.
It's like an ant that was killed 10,000 years ago.
They carried me into the room.
Put it on the bed and look at the beast of time.
Such laws are not permitted.
What is there in the neck?
Use. ——Akira
Listen to the canned fermented sauce.
Dangling on the road, purple sauce.
Such as purple rose petals.
Our minds are shaking, too.
From the mother's ancient gray hair.
Swinging all the way.
Our love is also shaking.
Like a tangled body, involuntarily spinning.
The Power of Love——
Candles, the light of the candles is also shaking.
Ah, the human category is in the face of the human being.
Pin the red apricot on the wall.
If anyone calls me tonight, I won't answer.
I'm going to shake off someone else's roof.
Tonight I will sleep on the ridges of the field.
Sleeping in my mother's old dreams.
Sleep in the palm of your own hand.
Quietly pinch a handful of sweat.
It's rainingRight outside the door, right in the wind
You're waiting for someone.
The one who lives day and night.
The stubborn one.
The one who suffers from migraines.
He is not the king of heaven.
He's just suffering deeply.
A child who cries a lot at night.
He is not a robber.
Nor are they tomb robbers.
Just because of fear of gentleness.
That layer hides the frozen soil of love.
When the fog clears from the chest.
Light smoke blows into the winter fields.
Beloved, don't be shy.
The old child was walking slowly.
Right outside the door, right in the wind
If you want to love
If you want to love, you have to be like love.
The experience in the dream was like that, not eating, drinking, and being silent.
If you don't love it, you will be like a withered reed.
Leave along the west wind.
Remember my words and don't have to wait for the bitter water in your heart.
After all, he was willing to turn back.
You're going to be like me.
Hold up a sentimental wine glass.
Keep having fun ......
If you can't finish your talk.
Throw yourself into the rain alley deep in the rain alley.
You don't have to wait for the girl with the umbrella to come.
Moonlight in spring.
is in the veins of your head.
Affectionate. ——Silence
From my imagination.
Pull out a reed stalk.
Imagine this is autumn.
In the fall, I didn't do anything.
Except for drinking, that is, silently.
Sleep in bed with you.
I am silent.
From my dazed face.
It can be seen that the proof.
There was a palpable melancholy written.
My hands are cold.
From a bowl of cold rice.
Reflecting the shadow of my sorrow.
But I'm not real.
I'm just a phantom.
The words lingered.
Let me count the days to sleep.
Until a yellow beam from a dream.
Squeeze out the tears of this loneliness.
Bubbles
I can point it to you.
That's it: tired, irritable.
Restlessness. In the heart of a near-vacuum.
A fly buzzed.
But it's night, and it's as lonely as the sea.
Except that the waves shatter into foam.
There is nothing more than repentance.
Touch. Because of the burning jealousy of the heart.
Just enough to burn their own corpses.
What else?
Time is like a tank of combustible air.
Let the eternal time burn loudly.
This is the night of the fifty-second year of life.
Alone
Sleep is often awakened by dreams.
Like a dark night pressing on a swollen breast.
Go around looking for babies like that.
And a hurricane that climbed ashore from the beach
After covering the black veil, only
Coaxed the child's crying.
Author
Ye Xiaosong, born in 1964, screen name, Prometheus (fire thief), columnist of the Reading Sleep Poetry Society, and a good poet in poetry writing. Some of the poems are included in "Reading Sleep Poems: Spring Blossoms" and "Reading Sleep Poems: The Grass Grows and the Warbler Flies". The language of poetry is unique, the poetry is agile, and he is good at digging out the poetic soil and building the castle of poetry from the silhouette of life. Poetry has its own unique meaning and specialness, and has a certain degree of recognition.