Obsession
Despite life
It's hard to get moisturized
I'm still on earth
Busy cultivating.
Under the sun
A pair of big invisible hands
Turning out of the spring light
Rainbow after the rain. In the slack
At night, I hope I always like the water
Dry the bubbles.
Actually, I'm with the night,
is the partner of pain.
In the invisible sea of memory
We all are
Acacia feeds older children.
Now, the wetlands in the city
It's a piece of my lung.
The scene of holding it in the hand
Like a live fish
It fled in the water, and it was in the water
Chase around. ――
circumstances
The day the open flame was held
In the deserted garden, Lennon picks it out from time to time
Worms on Belle Roots.
Some verbs, click
Click. ――
The anemia of the lover is pale
I always like to mutter: "Is it?"
My full breasts just disappeared?
Ah, youth, gone forever! ”
When warm memories
became the narrator of the truth
She picked up a stone
Trying to smash
A whole river of fantasy frozen.
This naïve thought,
Let the whole universe understand in an instant
This world, actually
Except for sleeping, everything is in Gege's giggle.
On the way to spring
Bees dragging the afterbirth
Flying around, at this time
It's easy to get lost in good wishes.
But why, why
The kid in slippers
Always make way to run?
The fog that always makes the rainstorm too late to clean
Say it's scattered?
boils
With the pain of forethought
I'm 54 years old
I still hear myself with the sound of spring
Calling for bees and flowers...
Boiling city
Well, being from the silence
The chest went over the wall. someone
Drunk blood wine, like invisible good
Han, night park Liangshan.
Someone uprooted
Leave your hometown, earn it
Thousands of family properties, but they fell
I'm bored.
This emptiness is deep
Sedentary homesickness
It requires physical collisions
It takes life
Take a short break.
That's true, money and points
and labor assessment are too dead
Everyone grinds their fists,
Look at the hope jumping from high in the sky
It's like looking at paper blown in the wind
Rubbish,Drop
Everyone's wounds. ――, there is depth
Arishallow. ――
Author: Ye Xiaosong, born in 1964, screen name, Prometheus (fire thief), columnist of the Reading Sleep Poetry Society, poetry writing enthusiast. 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.
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!