Poems on the theme of loneliness

Maozi, born in Yidu, Hubei Province in 1960s, now lives in Yichang. His works were published in Poetry magazine, Yang Zijiang Poetry magazine, Poetry Exploration, China Poetry, People's Literature and other magazines.

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Alive. I gain a little confidence from poetry.

In women, stealing warmth.

Besides, only books have a lasting relationship with me.

The people and things in it were soon confused with the life I had experienced.

What else, like words, destroys me and wakes me up?

I think there is always a pair of shoes, a dress, and a day.

Turn to ashes with me

This makes me feel pity for all trivial things.

Yesterday, I went to the cemetery again.

Nothing can give me but silence.

They told me that death is only one thing in life. ...

live alone

The man carrying water by the river turned a big river

Put it in a bucket

At some point, the moon also climbed in.

He was surprised at such simplicity.

It feeds a lonely species.

He likes such solitude.

Just like knocking on an old typewriter, he is in the Woods.

Stop or go?

But sometimes he thinks of the city from which he fled.

Are the people there asleep?

Is there a UFO?

Fly over it quietly.

Thinking like this, he fell asleep.

He dreamed that he had become a street in the middle of the night.

Green mailbox

-lonely and outdated, but full of softness and warmth.

Roads from all directions

Migrating poetry

Stay at home, but keep exercising.

Not long ago, I followed Chekhov and moved to Sakhalin Island.

This guy is older than me 104 years old, I don't know.

I come from a serial country, I don't know.

The ghosts there are as kind as the prisoners here.

He doesn't know, meanwhile.

Went to more places. Like a bar where painters and lunatics gather.

Li bar

For example, the empty mountains in ancient China were rich in chrysanthemums, wine and grapes.

Changting Xia

An old friend came.

I like the technology of this doppelganger. Like a soul

Like a transport plane, countless me

Airdrop to different times and lives.

Any poem I am going to write is them.

Where the joints meet.

They are like screens, blank.

But it has staged waves and legends throughout the ages. ...

Yu zhaotai

Father has this name.

After he came into this world.

He also brought a household registration book, files and various documents.

They used to be a whole, but now they are separated.

Now, "Yu Zhaotai" is still "Yu Zhaotai", and the father

But he cancelled himself with ashes. I stared.

His faded signature is a little yellow.

Far from being as new and pale as his ashes.

I can trace my handwriting back to his later years.

But facing the ashes, I can't see.

Any trace of his life.

position

The massacre is long gone, and I still can't let it go.

Little yellow star worn by Jews

They flicker faintly, just like Abel passing through death.

Look back at brother Cain.

I also look back at what I wrote.

Now that everything has happened,

I'm on the dirty side.

But how neat and cultured the SS is.

Live a meticulous life

They love classical music and attach importance to family.

It doesn't look like a firing squad or a gas chamber

Come back after washing your hands.

This is the evil that entertains us

They are still mutating today.

So, I said to my people in China.

-We have our own jobs.

We also have ancient Judaism.

Lost poetry

I counted the people who went there:

-and dad, grandma, mother-in-law, second cousin and Wang Menstruation.

When Mao was a child, he was in the village with Xin Binggui.

There are primary school students, He in junior high school and Xie Huijian in senior high school.

And colleagues in the factory, Xie, Tian Wenguo.

Li Yanxiang and Cai Hongbing wrote poems.

A friend's ten-year-old son Xiao Qi and his deadly brother Li Guanghua. ...

These people who once appeared in my life left before me.

Now, in the winter sunshine, I think of them.

I remember a writer saying: Don't ask for whom the bell tolls.

When anyone leaves, I lose a part of me. ...

previous ages

Dad was reincarnated

The fortune teller said: Go southeast.

You will meet a new life.

But he's not sure.

Is my father an animal, an aquatic animal or an upright primate?

Dad, I am still a vegetarian.

Will I kill you again?

Stone gambler

In a hotel in Dali, a round trip.

Jade diggers in Yunnan and Myanmar

Tell me about him in the Meng Gong area in northern Myanmar.

The experience of gambling on stones

-Put a stone on it, or you lose everything.

Or get rich overnight

When he talked about this, the moon in Yunnan

Has risen in Erhai Lake.

Cold and yellow.

I pointed to it and said, you can take a gamble.

This stone in the sky?

The dark Chu people don't take a reason at all.

After a few sips of Pu 'er tea, he got up and left.

He patted me on the shoulder and said, friend

We Yi people.

Never bet on things in the sky.

My homesickness is different from yours.

I am not happy in Yichang.

I am out of tune with the life around me. Why have I been holding back?

Why do I regard the place I have never been as my motherland?

They are Prague, Istanbul and Villeneau. ...

In fact, so many cities are one city, so are so many people.

It's a person

Yesterday, I turned on the light and Pamuk said to me:

I understand the inner shyness of insurance salesmen.

And milosz spread his hand: I really don't understand Polish.

But familiar with dark alleys ...

Really old, never been to a city.

Just like they caught up with me in their later years.

Now, I am a person without a country.

My homesickness is also contradictory to me.

That little Yidu

moon

The sky also knows about family planning. It only keeps one moon.

It was a wild animal at that time and had not been domesticated.

We are one of the animals.

Not isolated yet

When will the moon become the moon of poetry and homesickness?

The moon in love?

When did I grab the front paw of the bone and become

Pen in hand.

When I write and write, but my spine

No longer parallel to the earth

The moon must still be there, but we can't see it.

This is where my deep loneliness comes from.

I saw the lion king yesterday. The rotting animal's head was dying.

Lying in tears under the moon

I know, it's not dead.

This is something we can't go back to.

Goodbye,19th century

Tolstoy gave it to his friends in his later years.

The letter wrote: "No matter what happens.

I prepared everything. "

Then, poverty and death were also prepared by him.

Just like that morning, he plunged into the snowstorm.

Never came back.

Anna didn't come back either. This charming person.

How much struggle and enthusiasm he consumed.

But when beauty, beauty to a simple degree, this is absolute.

Anna in a black skirt is absolute, and the cold rail is another.

one kind

No wonder he finally said helplessly, in my story,

Can't control the unexpected.

No more Anna, no more Tolstoy.

/kloc-in the 0/9th century, novels were widely read.

The era when carriages drove out of private estates.

This is more like St. Petersburg.

When the steam train drags the thick fog to welcome new things. ...

Little love poem

Serve in the body you love.

I am also very organized.

But how can you believe that I was once a

anarchist

How can you not listen when she turns on the phone?

Huge breasts, charming hills

How can we not worry about territorial disputes?

warring

-"you step by step.

Have you ever walked into a prison camp? "

"Yes, yes. I can't help it

Isn't that what all men want? "

Sodoma, Sodoma.

How to exchange one milosz for another Europe?

What happened on that continent continues around us.

Sometimes Poland is Czech Republic, Hungary is Romania,

Warsaw is Beijing.

Reading Celan the other day, I was shocked that he came directly from the universe.

Extracting human black holes

This Jew who went through the death camp, because of the evil of human beings.

Bring Auschwitz to Jerusalem

No wonder Brodsky said: Pain is biographical, shouting is right and shouting is wrong.

mankind

No wonder Duo Yu is also angry: writing small poems is worrying.

These poets in the dark make me proud.

After them, every word we met.

It's all guillotine

This is nuclear waste

it's over

Tell me the ending. I think of the summer of 2009.

The total solar eclipse is coming.

Under the sky, people witnessed the death of the sky.

At that moment, the powerful sun also had the image of extinction.

At that moment, I saw God walk over my head.

It's like walking through the sinful city of Sodoma ...

A brief history of happiness of an American veteran

I had an intimate relationship with several women, and now it's over.

But for love itself, I still keep the original relationship.

My first kiss was given to Minnie, a beautiful girl in the inter-school choir.

The waitress led me to finish eating.

Body rite of passage

I fell in love with the landlord's daughter and broke up.

Then Kelly with freckles, half-blood Deli.

It's Barbara, the soda seller. ...

I was young and furious.

I didn't learn to slow down, and I didn't know that love needs patience.

If the war hadn't broken out, I wouldn't have known the man who changed me.

It was the second year of the counterattack, and we marched all the way to Berlin.

I was blown away by shells when crossing the Elbe River.

In the tent of the field hospital, she cleaned my wound.

Her eyes are peaceful and soft, just like the virgin Mary.

At that moment, I wanted to write down her address.

After the war, I want to have her again.

We have lived together for fifty-seven years.

I am eighty-two years old, but I feel as young as a child.

Think I have love and bring it to old age, don't you?

Happiness?

Therefore, I have no complaints about life.

I enjoy sunshine, hot baths and weekends every day.

family reunion

I think god will do the same.

Call me back.