1. Lines about flowers: 1. I am very poetic. I like flowers and I like to say some old things
. 2. The flower language of cockscomb is protection. In fact, it also looks like a protective umbrella. Our umbrella.
3. I like camellia, the flower of winter, the flower of pain. The red flower represents pain, the white one represents chastity, and the yellow one represents glory.
4. People say that those who love poetry are those who bloom in their hearts.
2. Poetry theory of the poet Jin Yongta:
1. To write a poem, we must first observe carefully. The most important thing in life is to observe. We are born to observe things. It is important to observe things around us carefully.
2. How many times have you seen apples? A thousand times? Ten thousand times? A million times? wrong! You have never seen Apple before, not once. Until now, none of you have actually seen Apple. If you want to truly understand this apple, you must be interested in it, understand it, and talk to it. This is called true observation. Watch it carefully for a while, look at its shadows, feel every curve of it, turn around, take a bite, imagine that the sunlight is absorbed in it, this is really observing it. If you really observe something, you can feel something natural, just like a spring. You have to prepare a piece of paper and a pencil, and wait until that moment comes. A blank piece of paper, a world with pure inspiration, before everything was created, this is the best time to write poetry, and write it down on clean paper with a pencil.
3. Writing poetry is the process of discovering beauty. Poetry creation is the discovery of the beauty of everything in front of us in daily life-the real beauty, not just the beauty that looks. Each of you has a poem in your heart. But you all locked it up, now it's time to release it. The poems that you imprisoned should find their wings and take off.
4. When will the inspiration for creation come? It will not come out by itself, you have to ask it to come out. You have to pray, but even then there is no guarantee. It is too precious to be produced casually, so you must beg for it to come out. It is not in a special place, but a place you often go to. It will not be waiting for you with a brand of "creative inspiration". The most precious thing is that it is right by our side and not far away. It's right there, right where you stand. I told you that poetry can even be produced in the sink.
5. It is not difficult to write a poem, but it is difficult to have such a heart to write a poem.
3. Poetry theory of the members of the Love Poetry Club:
When I wrote a line of words, I didn't understand it myself. My thoughts were untangled like silk, just as I was useful in a sea of poetry. When I write poems, I feel like flying butterflies. When I started writing poems, I always wanted to find inspiration, but it made things more troublesome. The key is to have feelings. If you have feelings, you can write poems. Record it truly, just like taking notes, that is the most authentic thing.
4. Song Yang Meizi sang on KTV: The
moist lip print on the wine glass keeps my desire for you warm, I hold on to the rope, I want to release myself, but now I have to let it go. You probably forgot my name, but I will still I raised my glass recklessly just to think of you. Now I want to take off my cumbersome skirt and drink a glass of unforgettable water.
V. Poems of the members of the Love Poetry Club:
1.
Writing poems is to remember the mother's hand. The thick joints are
on the winter solstice. In the cold dusk, Taomi
writing poetry is to wake up alone in the weeping night
, to build a solid foundation, to
support a pillar, to
prop up your broken heart
, to appease the
bare window frame of the window that swayed all night , use all you have Power
is to drain
the rising stagnant water, and without hesitation
is to create a blank void in the woods
2. "A green cicada"
I always hear the sound of
a cicada behind your back.
It
squeaks, squeaks, rubs its eyes
like the last forget-me-not in summer The tip of the hand is
faint, and
the cicada has been calling
me behind your back , crying and
wiping my wings
. 3. "The Season of the Rose Thorn"
Don’t try to steal me. The
thorns started to grow up on
me the day I was growing all over my body. Just hope to erase it with a crimson smile.
Don’t break my
Dan’s lips because of my charm . A kiss on my Dan’s lips
is the last passion of chastity.
Don’t love me anymore
because the wheels of the season are rolling forward
. 4. " Die as you think." 》
Dead as you think,
go to the direction of the big day Tathagata finger
, die as you waited,
go to the place where Amitabha used his head as a pillow
until the dawn is past
, the bronze bell of the Buddha no longer rings,
I have been sitting in the temple all my life next to the large pillars
I can not even give you a bowl of rice
but my tears turned into a temple, then was pushed
suspended in the air on the rocks
I built a temple
5. "I ask you"
did not dare kick after coal combustion ashes
you have another person who is a fiery man?
6. Yang Meizi's poems
1. Flowers are as red as blood
2. Birds' singing, why do they sing?
3. Time flies and the flowers wither
4. The apricot tree threw down its own fruits only for the next life
5. Is "Song of Angus"
okay over there?
Are you lonely?
Will the sky turn red at sunset?
Are the birds still singing on the road to the woods?
Can you receive the letter I dare not send?
Can I convey this confession that I dare not make?
Time flies, will roses wither?
Now it’s time to say goodbye,
like a shadow
promises never to come back
for the love that was encapsulated to the end,
to kiss the grass of my tired ankle,
to follow the little steps behind me
, it’s time to say goodbye,
now the night falls on the
candle Will it still ignite?
I am here to pray that
everyone will stop crying
to let you know
how much I love you
. The long wait in the hot summer afternoon,
that old path is like the face
of a father, even the lonely wild flower turns away shyly go
I have so loved
to hear your faint voice my Xinjing swaying
I pray for you
before I spend Heihe
took the last breath of my soul
I began to dream about
a sunny morning
I woke up again , I was stinged by the sun, I
met you,
you stand beside me
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