Looking for a new concept composition, remember that the topic seems to be "since the reform in Australia, writing poetry is cruel." The content seems to be a group of poems. . In urgent need. Thank y

Looking for a new concept composition, remember that the topic seems to be "since the reform in Australia, writing poetry is cruel." The content seems to be a group of poems. . In urgent need. Thank you. . Walking senior three

Senior three is a long road, and walking is an attitude. Walking senior three, you and I, are all on the road.

-inscription

Zero. About forgetting or remembering.

About this time last year, a friend of mine said, "He woke up and realized that today was A's last performance, so he turned on the TV and saw that the game was over. The fans of Shenhua are very happy, thinking that Shenhua won, so they are also very happy. " -Later, I learned that Shenhua actually lost.

At that time, I was reading a newspaper, a disgusting article praising A. something like "ten years of life and death" I suddenly feel funny, and I don't know why. This ending is a bit funny. Without deep memory and mourning, it was like watching a joke, and then this afternoon slipped by like this, just like an ordinary winter afternoon.

I can't believe it's been ten years. Ten years ago, I would point to the TV and ask my dad which one was the good guy and which one was the bad guy. Ten years later, when I see A or Super League again, I will turn my back.

Finally, we found ourselves a heartless person. When those who waved flags and shouted those passionate blood were washed by time in the ditch of memory, we were left with the riverbed.

Don't mention the past, don't miss the meeting.

Ten years without life and death, there are too many fragments in my memory, so I abandoned A, turned around and saw so many backs, and was bent by the past.

If that is the best time, let him get better forever in the depths of his memory; If it was a bad time, let it stay in the memory. As for now, it is neither the beginning nor the end. Today and tomorrow are just a continuation. Look at our feet. They're still walking.

We are walking, so we are away from some people, some things, some happiness and some sadness bit by bit.

If you think like this, there will be no ups and downs, no ripples, no waves, no joy of things, no sorrow of your own, and nothing.

With Arafat gone, what can we expect?

So I packed my memory and left.

Why did you leave? Leaving is for the better. Why did you stay? I stayed to remember. Why did you forget? Forgetting is to move forward. Why do you remember? Think about the future.

Where do you wake up today? Fear is just the edge, facing the sad morning wind and the setting sun of the waning moon.

First, about last summer vacation

"I must work hard this summer vacation!" I stood on the bed and shouted with my hands in the air.

Then I saw the coke in the meat garden fall to the ground, crisp; Mosquitoes cover their throats painfully; The old cow patted me on the shoulder with a full face of grief and indignation and said, "Young man, come down." As soon as I got out of bed, he slammed on the bed and became "big" ...

For a moment, I felt that history was repeating itself, as if this scene would repeat itself at the beginning of every summer vacation. So I can't help crying for it.

At this time, the meat garden looked around and found that it suffered the most from losing coke. Regardless of my life experience, it rushed to claim for the loss of coke's youth, and a great poem died like this. ...

Today is August of 19. According to Nie Weiping, this day is called "closing stage", according to Mosquito, it is called "surviving", or poetically, it is called "the sunset is infinitely beautiful and buried by the coming night".

I was wondering if this poem was written by Li Shangyin when he was in his second and third year of high school. When I was about to start textual research, a phone call from old Niu Yi brought me back to reality from my psychosexuality towards Li Shangyin.

"Boy, what are you busy with?"

"Busy making fun of Li Shangyin."

"……"

Hanging up the phone, I suddenly want to seriously think about this question of the old cow-"What are you busy with?" -in fact, this is no less than any philosophical proposition.

Of course, I will give different answers to different people. It is natural for teachers to make up lessons, read books and do homework. For friends, you can say reading books and playing games online. It's very troublesome for parents, after all, it's right under their noses, but as you know, art is allowed to exaggerate appropriately. For example, I once witnessed the amazing success of mosquitoes in turning homework from a piece of paper into a container.

But what answer can I give myself?

China gymnastics team is busy making mistakes in Athens. You said that four years of hard work was only to go to Athens once and lose the chain once. I'm afraid people with an IQ of over 70 don't believe it. So I guess that every time they make a mistake, many senior three students will have a chill-no one dares to think of such an outcome.

The stairs leading to heaven are rubbing against our eyes, so we can only keep busy all the time, so as not to lose sight of the high threshold of the university at the top of the stairs.

So it was dark, so it was a mess.

Standing on the tail of summer vacation, I began to learn to use these two words to describe these 60 days.

Everyone is working hard to cultivate their own land, and I understand that you can only get back a penny if you borrow a penny. I told myself not to be a gymnastics team in China. I told myself that when summer flowers are in full bloom next year, I should not see a barren land that I was caught off guard.

Too many predecessors' pains are before us. One cannot step into the same river twice. As a student, you can't fall into the gutter twice. If you fall, it proves that you belong to the sewer.

So, brothers, let's get started. Busy style, busy level; Busy out of Asia, busy to the world!

I remember when I was a child, the teacher asked us why we should study. At that time, with the dream of becoming a great man, I replied: for the rise of China. The teacher told me to sit down with a smile, and then I heard her sigh.

However, with the development of the times, I am more and more aware that this answer is full of the absurdity of postmodernism.

"Too busy to be blind." -this is the famous saying of the old cow. Obviously, I'm busy, so I came.

"Silkworms will weave until they die in spring, and candles will drain the wick every night." -Li Shangyin said. There is no doubt that this fellow must have participated in the college entrance examination, the prehistoric college entrance examination. Zhou Enlai, not necessarily.

"What are you busy with?" The teacher asked me.

"Busy earning points." I answered.

The teacher smiled, and so did I.

I think I got it right this time.

Two. About rules

When I get up in the morning, the sunshine is surprisingly good. Go to the window, it turned out to be blue, a very clean blue. It suddenly occurred to me that I haven't sweated in the sun for a long time. I remember who said this: Youth is laughter in the sun and sweat in the sun. So I'm a little scared. I looked at my seventeen-year-old self in the mirror and tried to remember the feeling of sweating. Unfortunately, it is really rare. Those memories flying on the court, like color pictures in black and white movies, bloom in gray dust.

We don't seem to be young anymore. When we lose the memory of sweat sliding across our cheeks or only the memory of sweat sliding across our cheeks, we reach out and wave our hands in the face of the basket that can only be zero distance on physical education class.

When taking off, everyone can feel the weight on their shoulders-the weight of their schoolbags or the weight in the future. So we choose to sit down slowly, spread out our books, grab a rebound occasionally, and put a hat on our heads to console ourselves. I looked up and saw the sign "13 class" hanging at the door, and decided that my choice was wise.

The old man said: Without rules, there would be no Fiona Fang.

The teacher said: there are family rules in the national law, and you can only abide by them. Don't ask why, because they are rules.

Mother said: study hard and make progress every day. The future society is a competitive society. You should learn to adapt to the rules, or you will be eliminated by society. What will you do if no one supports you?

We gradually learned to forget, forget the speed of running, forget the taste of the sun, forget the joy of sweating, forget everything that runs and sweats in the sun.

Life is slowly eroded and controlled by rules. All these intrusions are so natural and logical that people forget to argue. Maybe life should be like this-past and future, old and young, yours and theirs, and then we can feel at ease.

The reason why the water lily can bloom again after several generations of freezing is that when there is no suitable environment, it will form something called spores, which will last for 1000 years. However, once it has the right environment, it will inevitably reopen-as gorgeous as it was a thousand years ago.

Although the sky was gray at that time, we still ran with all our strength, perhaps because our opponents were strong, perhaps because we were eager to win, or perhaps just to find a feeling of sweating.

This winter noon will be the latest color map in my memory, as colorful as an open water lily. He told me that we are still young, but sometimes we are forgotten.

What we forget is not time, but rules. Ten minutes is too small and insignificant for the word time, but it is just the opposite for the rules. The embankment of a thousand miles was destroyed in the ant nest, which is the reason. Rules are the most fragile thing, sure enough.

We still have to live in a world of rules, just like this article, the word 1000 is its rule, and I am trying to finish it. Therefore, please rest assured that teachers and parents will still study hard and make progress every day, so as to lay the foundation for the competitive society in the future, adapt to the rules, not be eliminated by society and support themselves.

As for the sweat left at noon that winter, let it evaporate as a little joke for several children. You see, it has been buried in black and white, and it is beginning to rot bit by bit, isn't it?

(Note: One day at noon, I was two minutes late for class because I was playing basketball. Unfortunately, the class teacher caught me and ordered me to make a thousand words explanation, so this reason)

Three. Conscience of Chinese classroom discussion

Who said, "After Auschwitz, writing poetry was cruel." All the self-esteem of human beings has been crushed to pieces under the power of totalitarianism, but it has been replaced by the innate animal nature, cruelty and bloodthirsty. Only we humans created that red moment.

I didn't want to write an article about conscience in such a sad way, but I can't. After Auschwitz, human beings have become less and less convinced of human nature. This is not a question of extinction, but a question of existence. Don't expect philosophers to give us answers, you are human, you answer.

The film Hoh Xil provides a possible model for this kind of cross-examination. Greed, desire, wildness, holiness, nature and dignity ... are interminably intertwined. I saw the members of the mountain patrol team die one by one in the vast no man's land. They fell down and no one could find the body. I saw the trunk of the captain of Taiwan and Japan drying in the wind and the poachers slowly leaving, but I still insisted that the fallen party was good and the smiling party was evil.

This judgment has made the final bottom line for mankind.

Our education is always imbued with such a young, utopian and illogical concept as "a good man is safe all his life". However, this world is not a utopia, and there will never be any bullshit relationship between kindness and longevity, but our children have lost their own criteria for judging good and evil in such a low-level concept cycle.

What is conscience? Conscience is the perception and recognition of kindness.

After World War II, Martin Nemore, a survivor of Nazi concentration camps, had a memory that made countless people around the world scream: "In Germany, when they (Nazis) extended their claws to the producer of * * *, I didn't speak because I was not a producer of * * *; When they reached out to the Jews, I didn't speak, because I was not Jewish; When they reached out to Catholics, I didn't speak, because I am not a Catholic; Finally, they reached out to me, and at this time, no one stood up and spoke for me. "

Conscience is the most primitive insistence on justice. So many religions of different schools can answer, which is not as simple as one sentence. Simple, so sure, clear and firm. It is just a kind of almost meaningless masturbation to say that human nature is good. Conscience, to put it bluntly, is the choice of desire and justice. The former is nature and the latter is reason.

Shi Tiesheng said in an interview: the imperfection of human beings proves the perfection of God. God is perfect, of course. He can write down the vanilla mountain in the Bible with no effort, and then turn around and leave, leaving disabled human beings to worship.

In the Indian Ocean tsunami movie on TV, I saw the crane throwing piles of bodies into the corpse pit. I doubt whether shooting such a scene is a kind of "bad" in itself. However, the tears of seaside people always make me forget this doubt soon.

As long as there are people, they will not lose their kindness. Whether in Hoh Xil or in Vanilla Mountain, we always look forward to this.

4. About drunken tango

Several friends went out to the party that day, all of them were brothers. They can't help but have two drinks and are always drunk. This seems to have become a routine. Every time I see someone throwing up by the pool, I'm not drunk. It's strange, if I knew I would throw up so badly, why did I drink one cup after another? Later, I was poured down by them and finally understood. ...

Day after day, I rushed ahead of us in such a hurry. Before I had time to study it carefully, I left in a hurry, leaving myself staring blankly at the increasingly blurred back of time and sighing alone.

Bodhi trees have no trees, and the mirror platform is not a platform. Nothing. What caused the dust?

The cross-examination left by the Buddha a thousand years ago has not been answered so far. It is said that there is nothing much ado about nothing in the world, but why do we walk out of every step carefully and find ourselves scarred when we get home?

I believe that everyone will fight against life without fear. Facing the road problem, we try our best to solve it, fight and fight. Even if we are hurt by it, we are fearless, because we can't live without courage. But no matter how brave you are, when a person faces the memories that belong to him and don't want to show to others, and the scars, scars and pains that once pierced his heart and lungs, who can really face them calmly?

So we choose to raise a glass and let the wine pass through the sadness, hoping to drain everything we don't want to bear. Cup after cup, I laughed loudly and drank, thinking that I was very happy and full, and I was drunk today, spinning a thousand pieces of silver and coming back! ...

As we all know, in fact, it is only the body that is drunk, but we would rather believe that our soul is drunk, but we just don't want to wake up, hoping that the short-term dizziness and short-term drunkenness can wash away the bitterness deposited in our hearts. There is a saying that people don't return until they are drunk. It really makes sense. I remember there is a saying in a book that everyone has a way to paralyze himself. Maybe beer is a tool that many people use to paralyze themselves. Drinking, vomiting, and even breaking glasses. When you do everything you can and feel that you can finally get drunk and solve your troubles, the things you try to forget come out like filth in your stomach.

Then I understood another sentence: it's more worrying to raise a glass to eliminate sorrow.

Finally, I can only face the flowing spring water and silently count my sadness.

Verb (abbreviation for verb) about lovelorn.

Yesterday's day, people who abandoned me couldn't stay; Today, those who disturb my heart are more worried.

You said we were all young and ignorant at that time.

Love at this age is not luck.

Swallow a bitter pear with tears in your eyes

A starfish crawls slowly in learn to be lonely.

I don't know what to say.

There is no room to retreat to the edge of the cliff.

Repeating "I'm sorry" feebly over and over again.

The faint fog imprisons sadness.

Is it ... or not

All good things are just memories.

Then please allow me to shed tears.

Is it ... or not

All the vows were reduced to ashes.

Then please allow me to give up myself.

Is it ... or not

All hugs are merciless.

Then please allow me to forget.

Is it ... or not

All words are doomed to leave.

Then please allow me to kiss you for the last time.

How many times have we heard the songs?

How many times have we walked this road?

How many nights have we missed our dreams?

It's just the future we dream of together.

disappear

Where are you?

I clearly saw the happiness in my pupils at that time.

Like a butterfly breaking out of its cocoon.

Fly away, fly away

I stood on tiptoe and looked at its back.

Look at my eyes.

It pains me to see it.

I stretched out my arm to catch it.

But the broken kite can't find the entrance home.

Chasing again and again, losing again and again.

I want to suffer again and again.

Once the sea surges in the clockwise waves.

A memorial ceremony to clear the scars all over Wushan

The lost child cried alone.

Cross Naihe Bridge and drink a bowl of Meng Po Tang.

It's still raining

Why is there only one person alone under the umbrella?

I'm still walking.

Why can't you see the road ahead?

The hour hand is still turning.

Why can't you dial back your old happiness?

Tears are still flowing

Why, why don't you care anymore?

Whose voice is singing repeatedly?

All the year round, four winters.

I got lost in the street.

As if I heard the laughter from the past.

Laugh at my sadness.

Huangpu River

Lover's wall

Heavy snow fills the heart

I really want to laugh freely.

No sadness, no guilt, because you said it was just a young and ignorant frivolous.

So I face people coming and going coldly.

Pretend to be brave, pretend to be strong

I turned around on purpose

But why is there a figure shaking?

Have you forgotten? Do you remember?

Why do I cry for no reason?

If you really forget.

Can I not see you?

Don't read the diary at that time.

I see

In the place where no one is there, quietly shed tears.

Maybe you're right.

Some things are not important.

But every time I face a broken heart

Please don't, please don't stop my tears

Absolute flow

The intransitive verbs are in the late autumn and early winter of 2004.

Although there is no news that there will be cold air in a few days, winter still refuses to come, and the sunshine in the classroom makes the students' gloomy faces even more gloomy after the exam. The temperature hangs in the air like a drop, just like my grades. Autumn drags its tail and refuses to go, so the late autumn and early winter of 2004 are particularly long.

The air became more and more dull after the results of the joint entrance examination of seven schools came out, and everyone shook their heads with a wry smile. Except for a few, I looked at the paper in my hand and thought pessimistically, it seems that God alone is not enough to surpass her. God should at least have a direct blood relationship with me.

During this period, pessimistic thoughts prevailed in the workshop. Schopenhauer said that life is a pendulum, swinging back and forth between boredom and pain. You may not understand the world as will and appearance, but you must feel the same way. Before the exam, you were bored, and after the exam, you suffered endlessly, patiently and patiently; One day, both will end.

At the time of writing this article, Linkin Park's "Somewhere I Belong" echoed in my ears. However, as senior three, we seem to have nowhere to go. The emptiness behind the noise is endless, and the spiritual loss is floating in the air. We tried to build castles with fractions, but found that these castles were so fragile that they suddenly turned into bricks and tiles, and the people inside were still shivering.

But be sure to blindfold yourself and tell yourself that I am not cold.

Once upon a time, senior three should be dozens of papers, exams again and again, and scores one by one.

Once upon a time, senior three should be a topic, having a cup of coffee day and night.

Once upon a time, senior three should be a fountain pen, a note, repeated year after year.

However, the experience is incredible after all. Only when we really experience it, some forgotten and neglected things show its value more and more.

No matter when, life will not be dull, there will always be some unforgettable times, there will always be some songs that can't be put down, and there will always be some past events slowly settling in the ditch of memory without being washed away. All the memories are precious because they were born in senior three. For a time when there seems to be no story left, they left some mottled and stiff nicks that could not be erased.

With expectations and questions, we have left the top of the seven joint exams, and there are countless unknown thorns ahead. Sometimes maybe we really should give up something that might have been incomparable. Yes, without them, there would be no present, but with them, there might be no future.

It's almost three months since school started, and the days have passed through my fingers. Looking back, it was only a few days or even a few moments. Who said: "When the days turn into old photos and old photos of become memories, we will become people walking back to back, stubbornly walking away in different directions step by step, without Athens, Rome and turning back ..."

It started as a book, then gradually turned into a page, and finally only a few words and lines were left. This is a few lines of senior three, just like those words painted on the wall of Wenjie Building today, which are straightforward and absurd.

Many people want to laugh, many people want to cry and many people are silent. Last week, everything was for this score, but when it was really in my hand, I found that I seemed to have lost my so-called concept, perhaps the nothingness after being busy, and these numbers on the note would eventually be forgotten, along with ecstasy, sadness, depression, emptiness, irritability and so on. Now, life goes on.

Memories only increase sadness. After all, the road under my feet is spreading forward. Although it's muddy and tortuous, it's all me. Really, the slightly rough time is unique because there is no chance to modify it. There are always some accidents waiting for you in front of life, just like a fire extinguisher falling from the sky one day. All we have to do is record them, just like this article, and then look at it quietly one day in the future and say to ourselves, "You see, I used to live like this."

That's enough.

7. About snow and flying time

Finally, when the year is coming to an end, snowflakes are falling one after another, and the whole world is white, some of which are unreal, just in line with the students' vacant state of mind. After the entrance examination of seven schools, it's time to sum up and review, review and reflect on what to do, so what should I do afterwards? The paper is still working tirelessly, but it always feels empty, like flying snowflakes, hanging like this, confused, or confused.

Confused, we spent Christmas and New Year's Day. People are somewhat isolated when they reach the third year of high school. Looking at the bustling crowd in the street, I felt out of place, and then I remembered that Zhu Ziqing said, "The excitement is theirs." Empathy.

The third year of high school naturally has its own splendor, and it is a fine tradition of our army to have fun in hardship, the so-called revolutionary optimism spirit. I remember that it started to snow in the middle of a class that day, and then the balcony became a snow observation platform after class. Students change their bitter expressions in the past, and everyone can feel the pure joy. Many hands reach into the sky, but those palms that still hold warm schoolbags in class are not afraid of the cold at the moment, just for those two pieces of snow that are so small that they can hardly be seen, but they can still bring some kind of happy satisfaction, which is touching, isn't it?

We have been ignoring it consciously or unconsciously. Even after so many exams, so much pressure, and countless successes and setbacks, we senior three students in 18 are still just a group of children. We will still be satisfied with an unexpected snowfall and will still be moved by a piece of white purity. What covered the original tender face and washed away the original youthful years? Over time, we all learned to accept and forget our doubts. One day, when we turned around, we found ourselves more and more strange, vague and unrecognizable.

I have always felt that since the days are coming day by day, it is natural to live day by day. Some lost time is only temporary, and it will come back as long as we are willing. In fact, we are all wrong, and life is changeable. How can people stay the same?

When I was a child, I always liked to use "time flies" at the beginning of writing a summary. Now I find that time is still there, and it is only ourselves that flies.

Three days of sunshine still can't melt the snow on the roadside. I hope those people who have disappeared in the tsunami can be as alive as this snow. God bless them.

It is said that snow will bring a good harvest. I hope so.

Eight. About the last battle

In 2005, the last firecrackers went out behind us. Jia threw us a cold wind and drove away after the Spring Festival. We can't keep up with it. It walks too fast, like a fly. We can only stop at the same place, stay in its drifting back, count everything it left us, sadness, joy, parting, meeting … and then learn to be grateful, grateful for these gone years.

However, what stands in front of us now is completely different.

"School begins," I said to myself. We all know what the second half of the semester means. All the processes and results, steps and postures, achievements and tears will find the end and home. After all, the waiting time from the first grade of primary school 12 is only over three months. For so long, I have forgotten the primary school Chinese teacher who taught me to write names. I don't know where she is now, but I only know where I'm going. It was a battlefield, and each of us took part in the final battle.

The winner is king, and the loser is the enemy, which has always been the case.

In fact, we are the ones who move forward wave after wave. Flowers are similar every year, and the battlefield remains unchanged; Every year is different, and the crying is still there. In this way, since everyone has to experience it, since no one can surpass it, why not look down? But we can't do it after all, because everything that has passed away and everything that we have clearly tells us that we can only succeed but not fail-cold but practical.

The urgency of time forces us never to put down our examination papers and chase others, so we can only cherish and care for our hard-won happiness. There may be more than smoke on the battlefield, there must be something else.

In this way, the first week of school passed unconsciously, and the students who re-entered the process of mechanized life were obviously tired, as if the winter vacation was just a short renovation like the weekend, and nothing changed. I'm afraid it's hard to say it's not suitable. It is just a continuation, extending from the past to the future, but we don't know what the end of this road is, although we really want to know.

There is always an undercurrent under all calm water, and so is life. The only difference is that all memories will be branded as senior three and indelible, whether you accept it or not.

In the last battle, we won or lost, no matter whether it was wonderful or not, we would give ourselves long applause.

Nine. About walking in senior three.

At the beginning of 2005, I moved, and then this inexplicable winter afternoon, I sat at my desk sorting out the messy papers I moved. The draft is full of thoughts I have, like a long-lost silent film, so I made it into a book on a whim, so I walked for the third year.

Kerouac said: Always young, always in tears. I don't know if I can do it. I'm just trying to keep myself in a walking posture forever, always on the road.

We are all lonely dancers on our own stage, spinning for the darkness under the stage with intoxicating steps. However, we don't even know if there is an audience, even one, when all the spotlights are on.

We are all lonely walkers on our own journey, and only after dragging our tired bodies do we find that the surrounding scenery is getting poorer and poorer. We don't know whether we are caught off guard by a bustling city or a ruin when we are struggling to cross the mountain ahead.

Once wrote: Senior three is a gorgeous shackle, which imprisons your freedom with the most beautiful shackles in the world. Then allow me to dance in chains and walk out of my footprints.

That's it. It's not over yet. Everything is going on. Look at the scenery around here and retreat quickly.