Zhou Chaojun's poem "Touching a Person"

Zhou Chaojun, 1990, a native of Linyi, Shandong Province, now lives in Shiyan. He began to publish novels at the age of 65,438+04, and began to study poetry in 2008. His works are scattered in Qingdao Literature, Shandong Literature, Hunan Poets, Shandong Youth Literature Newspaper, Yimeng Poetry Magazine and Northern Literature. Since 2003, Shandong Youth Literature Newspaper has been co-founded with post-80s poets Xiao Ke, Zou Shuang and Qingwu. Won the first prize, the second prize, the excellent prize and the finalist prize, most of which were consolation prizes; Entering this anthology and that anthology means that there is no authoritative anthology. Books are generally read, and poetry is third-rate.

Poetry: I swear with my feet that I will go further and further to a banquet that must end!

poetic sentiment

Zhuxihang (group poem)

Bamboo mats in the country in the morning

In the morning in Zhuxi County, people try to adapt to the drizzle.

Accustomed to the empty birdsong and logging after drizzle.

In the middle and lower reaches of the river, people exchanged spring and hoes.

Say hello with calloused hands and wipe your shiny mouth.

Seduced by the joy of the outside world

Crossing the road illegally

Nutrition is getting less and less, and young people are beginning to be afraid.

Empty barrels and ancestral houses buried under the corner for many years

Mother-in-law with wheelbarrow and foot binding

In the crowded morning market, people and animals are selling and testing sweet potatoes.

Strive for an exit. Morning in Zhuxi village

Cuckoo and herring were chased.

There are also stories about working too late to sell.

After the flood

Flood in Tang Dynasty or Song Dynasty, single refugee.

Lost a shoe. A hut where ancestors lived for generations.

There is no room for a bowl of cooked sorghum.

The buttered tea in the hanging pot sizzled and snored one after another.

A courtyard shrouded in fireworks, a barefoot old man.

It turns green like wheat in early spring.

In the afternoon, a handful of rice dispelled the disease and spread the withered leaves.

The ancestors took off their navy blue cotton-padded jackets and wooden boots in the mud.

Paulownia trees began to dance in the stove, and the faces of single refugees were red.

A ray of bright heat.

Return young

Back in the country, I must embrace the soil.

Tell Xiaojianhe, the towel gourd rack at the entrance of the village and the sleeping yellow dog.

I'm back. Just like telling my relatives.

I can't wait to shake out the country bag that I have treasured for many years.

Corn, soybeans, tomatoes ...

Say thank you to every factor that makes up my body.

The humblest crops, the most powerful rear area.

grape

Zhuxi countryside

Pregnant grapes are whispering.

The grape-keeper's sister cried secretly.

Talk to grapes with mossy hands.

It's like meeting a necklace that was lost many years ago.

The purest beauty in the world

Spread out in your heart one by one

Hungry girl, please hug.

Please go under the grape trellis.

Migrate to fresh grapes.

20 10 June 12

I long for a hurricane.

Hurricane, I am eager for your landing.

Landing in my hometown of Lunan.

Destroy, some hard words

Oil rigs on the coastline, science parks

Drive away those who crave gold and wealth.

A stone shed exposed to a hurricane, a lifting frame

After the hurricane, you can see

In my childhood, I competed with my partner.

Colored seashells by the sea

You can see it after the hurricane.

A beach by the sea.

There are me and my friends on it.

Footprints that have been discarded.

March 2(nd), 2009

Singing on the construction site

Reform and opening up. world fair

Shuttle people. Happy little fitter

In the age of entertainment, there is delicious yellow wine.

You giggle. Keep your head down-

Have a secret conversation with your "working age"

On the haystack of neon lights

Talking about the girl in the plaid skirt-

The papery landscape opens up at your open ribs.

You said you rented it on the eighth floor, and you can see it.

Father threshing the grain on the other side of the mountain

You said that you used to follow the wrinkles in the countryside in a simple life.

Pursue happiness and hang the dream of malnutrition on the old wall.

You close the book, remember and taste.

When the old shoemaker praised your shoes

You praised his hand.

When the little boss praised your harmonica

You praised the wonderful life of much ado about nothing.

When the breeze blows, you look up.

In just a quarter of an hour, you will feel,

The flame of happiness shuttles freely between your fingers.

Love of wage earners

I have two families.

Two rows of teeth, two pockets

I have never given up reading rural classics.

One or two moonlight, two homesickness

Just in time to drink.

Foshan, please give me another centimeter of love.

An apple, a bottle of beer and a pile of poems.

Let me in the far south—

Touch sb.

Surrender the inner bad king with a poem.

Destroy the cold flame with endless sweat

These reactionary flames

Block the sunshine and happiness in August.

The tide in the south is growing wildly in me.

After a love, I will slowly stop.

Fix my iron pliers and my body.

vulgar expressions

I want to praise the beautiful life of much ado about nothing.

Praise the black of my skin and the blue of the sea.

Looking for gold under scaffolding

I want to run in the streets of Foshan and get hurt.

then

Autumn is crisp, the clouds are light and the wind is light, and life is calm.

afternoon

I envy those boys with dark skin.

Praise the smiling girl next to them.

Also briefly praise your inner gentleness.

The calm afternoon is full of sunshine again.

Every day I spent in a small town in northwest Hubei.

Peach blossoms, birds and flowers.

No matter which direction the tide flows.

I just want to stay out of it.

Love loneliness and enjoy mediocrity.

flower

There is a group of poems living in my body.

Black, white, yellow and green, all of them.

Like a small garden, full of brilliant flowers.

I picked one by accident.

Smear on the streets of Shiyan

April 20 10

Buyi nocturnal travel

1

Tonight, I was thrown into the torrent.

Stand upright with your feet and live a transparent life with friction.

Morality, law and memorial archway in the sunset.

Climb the stairs to the heart of the Four Books and Five Classics.

The 3,000-year-old tombstone was swept by the wings of swallows.

The Analects of Confucius combs a golden mean.

Can a pile of bamboo slips grow into the world?

Is it the way of Confucius and Mencius or the gift of Sun Tzu?

It's about the route, and it's a big deal

This problem of copper smell came three thousand years later.

Shut me out. Eighty-year-old wet nurse

With the education of three-inch golden lotus, we say:

"If you are behind, you will be beaten, and survival needs development."

The emperor is pregnant.

No scholar, draw a sword to help.

And the consciousness of small farmers gently stretches powder boxing.

Will help two people to pieces.

Lessons from the past can never be teachers of the future.

Nostalgia also needs courage.

Europa is like a group of cunning liars.

From the Aegean coast with Oedipus' father-killing complex

Stay in Beijing's rectum and let China.

Constipation for a hundred years

The moon in Lugou Bridge is really round.

Round like a cautious courtship.

29 army's broadsword and blue sky and white flag were overdosed.

Charming Lou Gou becomes cleavage.

There are countless lions in Lugou Bridge.

Heifer reached an agreement with the emperor.

Milking, paying taxes and increasing comfort.

Chiang Kai-shek lit his chin.

2

Water, weak water, my shy sister.

She touched the strawberries, but not the spring.

No one told her whether the end of the road would

An affectionate leopard appeared, waiting for her to pick it.

No matter how broad the memory is, there is no room for a centimeter of love.

I have a brother who gave up thinking and love.

Return to Taolin from the water by raft.

The only bottle of wine left in the world, a pile of poems

Leave it to all the girls in the boudoir.

As their generous dowry.

On a tender night

Imitate the emperor's posture and put a hip flask in the name of pain.

Write it into history.

Lonely king, lonely king

The loneliness that illuminates the whole world.

When I was young, I colluded with a butterfly in Wuling.

I'm going to sing with the spring breeze, willows and birds.

Divide it equally, at home.

Full of gorgeous lies.

Tobacco and pens, my loyal wife and concubine.

Give up flowers and running water, just for

Keep May.

The rainy season is coming, and there is maturity and loneliness everywhere.

I can stand butterflies, but I can't stand dusk.

A deer is sleeping by a stream full of flowers.

I can't get rid of sadness, but it lasts longer.

Can the "Queqiao Fairy" grow from a strawberry?

Scholars who hate verbs are rich scholars.

Midsummer night is not suitable for dreaming.

Dew in Tang Poetry and Lin Daiyu's Flower Hoe

Knock over the secret in the hip flask

Scholars who fall in love with Li Sao will inevitably cry.

Tang Bohu, who is lovelorn, said: China girl.

This is a group of eight and a half women.

All women are obsessed with the structure of apple.

This conclusion comes from so-and-so evening paper.

The distraction of childhood continues to this day.

Let me grow into a silent fish.

I can't live normally without a flute.

It's like I've been living in memory.

In the moonlight

I'm just a scholar who feeds his thoughts by moonlight.

A purple butterfly, or a persistent deer.

On a spring night suitable for lyricism

Obsessed with running and imagination

Endless rain

three

I cried with a spring grass tree, these exquisite beauty.

Let me express the wound on the blank.

For eighteen years, I chose water to live.

Picking lyrical grains

How can we get rid of the hostility of spring?

Horses and arrows in dreams

These pure dull pains, pure flowers

Quietly burst in my bones

Miss the plot of a spring rain

Let me die of thirst on the surface of a poem.

Where I've told you countless times.

The horse gnawed at the grass roots in the dream.

Holding bamboo flute, singing at midnight

Burning my inherited sadness

The eyes are as desolate as water, and at the end of the poem.

four

At 3: 20 in the morning, a long-planned text message

(with a sharp sword)

The expression on her face pierced me, and the content was obscure and uneven.

The shrinking soul got lost in a peach and fell into an ant colony.

Promising a cup of melodramatic coffee is a matter of honor and disgrace.

Cover your mouth with blisters.

The omen is unknown. The masterpiece on the table is sitting on its back.

Paper scenery, in my open ribs.

With great fanfare, I was alone in Love in the West.

Sneaky.

Like a fledgling liar, the title page reads:

The cover is yellow and violent, and the content is so powerful.

Can't help being feminine.

The name of this 16-year-old girl is Cao Cao.

Married to the tramp next door.

This man outside the gate of Sichuan

Bang bang, what the hell?

Choose a person, spot or futures.

One-night stand, lying down and kneeling in love.

Not all beautiful women are qualified to say bad luck.

Cutting off a testicle can't cut off a 25-year relationship.

The stewardess wanted to have a perfect dream, and the murdered mistress was the original match.

20 10 March 15

Short chapter of the night

1

A moonless night

You are a woman in a white skirt.

2

At night, digest moonlight, silk, and

A love letter I haven't seen for years.

Nobody cares, and my heart overflows.

Tonight, it burst its banks.

Salvage an exit and wrap you up layer by layer.

Looking around, you are standing on the edge of the night.

Live by the water

three

Moonlight lingers outside the window, farther away.

How obvious. You quietly make peace with the night.

How peaceful it is to lie flat and breathe evenly.

I am infatuated with your silence that blends with the night.

It's like being infatuated with a gentle and sweet deer.

2009 65438+1October 16

A pile of love poems

Meet sb. leave

Don't have another glass of wine

Another glass of wine.

There are no more ten-mile pavilions.

Qiangdi Liu Yang

When you leave, your tears

Cut the wound of sunset

Rose blood

Wet your pale wedding dress

Red water drops are in my poor jar.

Sunset and sunset clouds drown you.

You'll drown everything.

You sing a love song that I am familiar with.

I hung it on the moon and took it home.

May your skirt fly into the sail.

Blood immersed in my veins

Write about the vicissitudes of past lives

Let me shake your hand.

Then gently pull out my hand.

Since then, these years have been stagnant.

Tears flow into a river in my heart.

The most helpless gaze.

I can't find a flower to send to the station.

Just pin the grass ring on the skirt.

Many years later, do you remember?

In the dusty years

Or is there a moving scene?

Tracker's love

If a poem

You can write all your willfulness.

I am willing to sell words for a living.

In your season

There are always more haze than sunshine.

Meiyu keeps falling.

Once this weather is wet for a long time,

It will definitely cause serious internal injuries.

Pull the fiber for a long time

Sing a long song

But ships always hit rocks.

but I ...

That's a tracker

If there ever comes a day when

You can't see the coast.

Familiar outline

He must be somewhere unknown.

muse to oneself

In the days when you were gone,

The day you left, the room

Be a little more tolerant

I'm lost in purple.

It looks rougher than ever.

In the days when you were gone,

There are many new things to do.

There are many endless tears to shed.

Take advantage of dusk

Give yourself a lie in the name of the night

Let yourself return to fantasy while drinking.

I am like a ragweed with long hair.

Scrawled on the sheets and got drunk.

Please allow me once again in the name of my lover.

Pick a fresh rape flower

Separated by a looming desert island

Kiss your feet

Warm soil