To the tired guests of Jinling
One
Allow me to call your name softly
These flowers don't exist
with vanity
The closer you get to dusk, the closer you get
midnight
It's my gaze that has turned away
The yearning of midsummer
Or my closed lips and a lonely warhorse
Extremely similar
I'm just stealing the souls of warriors on the galloping battlefield
Cast into a majestic monument
On the banks of the rising river
with a bouquet of knotweed
In exchange for a farewell to you
mood
Two
Often, I say just often
I'll replace you with a river
Step into the desolate homeland
Look in the hustle and bustle of the wind
The flower that feeds my love
I reverently bloom in the dark night with wisps of nostalgia
Talk to the dirt
In my beloved homeland
I heard a bird
Weeping rain showers in the dawn
My rising tides
In the early hours of the sunny morning
With the green peacocks in those wetland parks
How similar
Three
I finally got from a bronze statue of Sui Tang
Found the crow hiding in the Buddha hall
It's like the wind is breaking away from the embrace of a dandelion
All the gunfire was loaded with a bullet that could be lethal
The sorghum is almost ripe
The concubine wearing the phoenix crown of Xia Pei
Finally brought a dynasty into the tomb of the dead
Winter Martial Arts
Forgive me for using this sad word again
to express
The aging of time, the passing of youth
For example, wind, such as rain
Like clouds, like flowers
It's just that we don't dare to set it up with illusory words
A cage
Or shackles
In the magnificent flower pot or
Agile wings
Leave us with a finite life
Blooming like stars
As far away as the stars
We even on every night full of reverie
Refuse the arrival of rain
It's like weeding out some overly shady clichés in our three lives
Pondering in those eyes that have never been sad
When are the birds flying in the twilight?
Stopping is getting more and more
Restless wilderness
I hear the shadow of snowflakes
Like my blockbuster
Empty longing
Gradually blooming in the vast plains
Night in the city
One
When a bouquet with rose-colored light
Snatched away the last trace of the tender fragrance of the lilac branch
Break the shackles of your dreams
These crazy thugs
Please be merciful
Please when I pass through the path of your past life
Let the barren barnyard grass
Make way for me to make way for an ocean
On land
I could only shrink and shrink my massive body
I still can't get out of the crowd
Find the one with the full basket on his back
Trembling wildflowers
Those exist in countless illusions
Jubilant love
It has been resurrected with full blood under the starlight
Eager
There was no room in my aching bones
This comes from a cold snap beyond the Mohe River
It's always watching
Those small shredded winds
Ruthlessly devoured by the big maws of the night gnawed and gnawed
Two
I know that the snow has a world
Thoughts that can never be fathomed
Like those aloe vera that lives in the desert all year round
And a crowd hurried by
Xiliang people
None of this is taken into account
All they care about is the cloth on their hunchbacks
and the exotic grape pepper
Such a desolate night
Nor will a horse lose illusions
They don't have them in the dictionary
Depression and sadness
All nights are awake
Let a group of writers fall into
Another kind of madness
The burning flame is moored in
Vast seas
Like a humble person
Carefully open the wallet
Three
Have you forgotten it
On some light wings
Tie up a heavy rain flower stone
It will present itself as a sage
This snow slides down the corrugated
And under the guidance of the gods
Inducing the migrant workers who walked on the road at midnight
From tired pockets
Pull out a cigarette
It says
It will see the figure of Bodhi
In the wind of indulgence
In a flash
Like a royal aristocratic table
The hearty loaf of bread and the cheese
Four
The remnant sun of sorrow
Above the head of a man
Keep pacing
It will go from one person's heart to another's heart
Charity is at the heart of the city
It was also the mainstream of the night
It strips a person of their inner desires
And it's that easy
Five
Dotted with rivers in the Venetian town
It has long been commonplace
And my heart was mercilessly struck by Monet's brush
I heard the sword in the cold light
In the night when no one is around
Tear apart the shallow crowd
Yin Hong's heart
And write on the pale smile on the face
Six
It grows in the water
It will be in the fall
Catch one and hide in the abyss
Chirping crickets
I don't know if these count as love or love poems
Above the flowers
One
There was no sound coming out of the box
Real, unreal, unreal, bright, dim
As if this earthly world
As if this season
It's like a thing of the past
It's long been impossible to mention
I'm still in the light of confusion
Spot a pink butterfly
In the feathered air
Fly by slowly
Two
I don't know about these overly hard stones
Whether it can be built into a majestic city?
Or a temple that no longer mentions earthly lust
Those moonshines
Like a blue canopy used for the decoration of gemstones
There is a shining light there
There are also moths that pounce on the lights
I like and dislike
I have to listen and I have to forget
In the autumn I had to learn to be silent
Like those plants and trees who swear true love in the dark
Before the autumn frost arrives
Stealth
When the body is weak
I had to take advantage of those desolate rains or
It's an autumn insect that is good at stealth
Three
I had to face the dim light
Say what I want
My dear Pomandi or Digorman
All I could see was in Plato's thought
Those black stars
They also have it in their bodies
The heart of a wooden man
More vigorous than fire
Warmer than water
I'm ready to fall in love with poetry
It's like I once fell in love with a prostitute
Shameless
Four
These flashing lights
It will be destroyed
I have distracting thoughts
I was talking on a couch covered in gold
Chat
At the end of the city
With Hitler's guns
Create a city free of killing
Over there
Blacks can dance to their heart's content
Or madness
In front of a statue carved with a Greek goddess
Sata and a loud cry
Five
I saw the dark wheat
Filled with Thai dreams
in Bangkok
We even imagine
Under a fragrant mango tree
Listen to the blue fox passing by in the middle of the night
The black and shiny beards of our ancestors
Six
In Tagore's amorous poems
Forget about politics and religion
In a hellish irony
Don't talk about Nordic polity and Polish philosophy lightly
Seven
Use death to describe those talents who are in a hurry to pass away
Religions that tinge with sadness
In Seattle
I keep denying it
My poems or the sky are not flying
Tchaikovsky's Swan
Eight
A city of blood
It's long been forgotten and intimidating
We shouldn't
Continuing with the mention of war
These are ideas full of national doctrines
It will make the planet shine brightly
Author: Geng Bing, network 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.
Image: Photo by Reading Sleep Poet
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. He has published a collection of poems co-authored by poets, "Reading Selected Sleep Poems: Spring Warm Flowers" and "Reading Sleep Selected Poems: The Grass Grows and the Warbler Flies". Poetry friends have been working hard, the poetry club is forging ahead, constantly innovating, recommending excellent poems, producing high-quality poetry collections, reciting excellent works, recommending poets' works in various forms, so that more people can read excellent works and appreciate poetry culture, we are on the move!