May poetry

May Poetry 1 April Fool's Day in a hurry to escape.

Labor Day slipped away.

Two days later.

Today is Children's Day.

It's over half a year.

Life has been crossed out another page.

through the years

The ringing noon of the year.

Began to approach dusk.

May

Life has changed and changed.

I didn't do a few things I wanted to do.

I don't want to do it, but I insist on it.

Under the guidance of my brother and sister.

In fact, this muddy river

Crawl forward

stumble

Sharp knife in March

Roll up in may

A dream I once talked about.

The intersection was divided in May.

Act recklessly and blindly

in May

Gardenia in Pudong Jinqiao

Tree after tree opened.

In my heart

Fall to one place after another.

On May Poetry 2- 1

May and I once again

Step into the desert of the soul

To feel

Except for a growing poem in his hand.

Just me and a man.

Innocent people

Fragile feelings

After all these years, finally,

There are also some lovers who can be friends.

Angle cutting? However, spring has passed.

Contrary to the beginning of maturity

I'm still not sure: which way?

Can lead to his heaven? Which way?

Will reach my hell

two

May day, just for

It's raining hard alone.

Leave your hands behind you countless times.

It says that man's

Warm poems

At the moment, there must be a gust of wind outside his window

Has become my body.

It can walk.

ticking sound

This deliberately concealed repression has merged my sigh.

Just like fragility, I hit the wall several times in a row.

I completely forgot to devote myself to it.

Run to beauty

three

Although, I seldom write poems in May.

Speaking of these words,

I dare not say love to him. I turn around.

We can't find the real, honest and natural us.

If that happens.

It's really better to be silent.

But I control the language.

Can't control the voice in my heart

How is he?

Maybe this time, can it be done again?

Waste your youth.

four

No one knew, and I began to be happy.

Start studying a poem.

In a word, a Chinese character, even

A punctuation mark has fear.

I am afraid that happiness will tremble slightly in my hands.

The written words will obviously reveal their worries.

So, endure excitement for a long time.

I was silent for a long time.

Only dare

secretly

Hide his whole soul in my poem.

On May Poetry: Three Days in May

In people's laziness

Run away in a hurry

That love song is also very popular.

go further and fare worse

at present

Only thoughts sleep in the sunset.

The long-awaited coolness

finally

Condensed in the rain

It is cold at this time.

It's like a sacrifice

Memories and serenity

only belong to you

A chirping bird

It's a secret I buried in time.

Gorgeous story under the rose

Not just for me.

In my memory.

Giving up is the final answer that I abide by.

May again.

It's rainy season again

What land did Iraq's oil-paper umbrella land on?

whether or not

Still haven't escaped from acacia lane.

whether or not

Or sitting alone?

That land of mutual understanding

Please don't complain about May Poetry 4.

I praised May so much that I put too much pen and ink into it.

You know, my life began in May.

Every May, the night seems to give me a prophecy of rebirth.

In the depths of May,

I also hope that the pain of rebirth will make me no longer unkempt.

No longer have nothing

May, I am just a seed waiting for a new life.

Waiting for the blessing of wind, rain and lightning.

Waiting for the pain of breaking ground and budding and jointing

If I were a fish

In May, I will take you swimming in the sea.

If I were a bird.

In May, I will take you across Qian Shan.

If I were the wind

In May, I blew through your brow and sang softly in your ear.

But I have to tell you.

May is my inescapable fate.

It is the source of happiness and hope, pain and sadness in my life.

In May this year, I lived in the corner of a strange city.

No more singing for spring, no more praying for yourself.

I don't even want to wait for rebirth

If there is still happiness in life

Then just for you, present my most beautiful bouquet.

About May Poetry 5 Goodbye is a stranger.

The sorrow of this world

Wash the sky of fate

When language kills fantasy

When the wings of fantasy are broken

Please stop stumbling.

self-healing

Willing to devote oneself to those who appreciate and cultivate themselves.

This was a feat thousands of years ago.

Has become a legend in a previous life.

Don't expect a long day, but a long day.

Collect carefully, and don't hurt each other.

Impermanence of life

Please keep a copy in this life.

have neither complaint nor regret

May Poetry tore off the last page of April in Fang Fei on the 6th, and the red May homepage came into view, and the blood was boiling rapidly. In May, the fire was brilliant red and blazing. May is like a fable, a positive energy, a poem; Give me wisdom, strength, passion and courage; May makes me sigh, makes me yearn, and makes me sing passionately.

May Day is a memorable day for workers all over the world. On May 1886 and 1 day, more than 0.6 million workers in Chicago, USA, went on strike to implement the eight-hour working system. After a hard and bloody struggle, they finally won. Workers have won their legitimate rights and interests through struggle with tenacious, heroic and unyielding spirit, which is a historic progress of human civilization and democracy.

The May 4th Movement is a day that young people in China will never forget. 19 19 On May 4th, a vigorous anti-imperialist patriotic mass movement broke out in the ancient capital Beijing. The revolutionary wave swept across the country quickly, and people from all walks of life were United and played a heroic song of the times. The May 4th Movement marked the beginning of China's transformation from the old democratic revolution to the new democratic revolution.

The second Sunday in May is a day to thank my mother. In our life, there are many people and things that will be forgotten when we encounter experiences. What we will never forget in our hearts is our mother, and we will never lose our deep love for her because of the passage of time. On Mother's Day, this is to remind everyone that "the tree wants to be quiet, but the wind will not stop, and the child wants to raise it, but he doesn't want to stay close", so he should be filial in time.

May is as abundant as rain and sunshine. Because of the flow of water, everything flourishes, because of the gentleness of sunshine, my heart is moved, because there are too many forgetfulness and encouragement, I can't help being enthusiastic.

In the early morning, I walked in the mountains and villages and leaned against the trees, looking like the morning star. The morning in May gives people a little coolness from time to time, and the fragrance of green grass gives people a fresh and beautiful feeling of floating freely. The rising sun rises in Ran Ran, the stars and the moon fade, the breeze caresses the fields, and the morning dew drifts with the wind. Zhao Hui lightly sprinkled on the mountain stream, sparkling; The sun shines through the trees, sending out thousands of soft rays. People are in the "rising sun", and a ray of love comes to mind. I walked slowly to the top of the mountain, looked around and looked down at the earth, and a sense of accomplishment came to me. Nature is so beautiful, simple and tall, but now the bustling city seems so artificial, luxurious and small. I couldn't restrain my excitement and shouted at the field. Bursts of air jet from the mouth, making people feel comfortable and comfortable, making people feel like flying. I hope, I am eager, that time can stop here and make this situation last forever.

Following the footsteps of the sun to the village, the children are chasing and playing, with their comfortable and carefree expression, spotless and outspoken laughter; Seeing this scene and thinking of their carefree childhood, I can't help admiring these innocent children ... green wheat fields, running water, faint flowers, quiet villages, elegant artistic conception of mountain villages and flawless blue sky; I'm obsessed, I'm intoxicated. A feeling of "harmony between man and nature" floated to the boundless distance with the dandelion that bloomed in an instant. ...

Every time I enter May, I seem to be back to my passionate youth, and people seem to be much younger at once. At that time, in May, there was no so-called "May Day holiday", only the high production enthusiasm of the "May War". Next to the roaring machine, under the background of the big slogan, inspired by "Time is up, the task is over", our big sweat drops down our cheeks, dripping next to the rapidly running machine and flowing in the fiery memory of May. Our youth are also in full swing in this production boom of unpaid overtime. At this time, we truly realized that "we workers are powerful" and deeply understood that "the working class is the leading class". Labor created the world; Laborers are the most sacred.

The lost years will always leave unforgettable stories in time; Wandering years, there will always be clear memories floating in my heart. That year's May, that year's workshop, that year's overtime, that year's good news, that year's passion ... all lit the spiritual torch in this fiery May.

Remember the song that my teacher taught me to sing in primary school? "Flowers bloom all over vilen in May, and the flowers are stained with the blood of people with lofty ideals. In order to save this dying nation, they fought stubbornly and never stopped ... "That was the era of resisting Japan and saving the nation in the last century. 1935, the Japanese invaders invaded eastern Hebei, threatened Peiping and Tianjin, and created the North China Incident that endangered the fate of the Chinese nation. "North China is too big for a quiet desk." In August this year, Zhang Guangnian, who was only 22 years old, created a one-act drama "A Yin Girl" under the pseudonym of "Guang Weiran", and the prologue of this one-act drama was sung. The song "Flowers in May" was first sung by students of Northeastern University, and later spread all over Beiping. Anti-Japanese bonfires spread all over the country, and countless young people joined the army to resist Japan and save the country. They fought for the motherland and shed their blood and youth for the motherland.

Looking up at the sky, the stars of history are bright. For the liberation of the nation, the birth of new China, the excavation of the motherland and the realization of the Chinese dream; Countless patriotic youths bravely burned their lives and youth and erected the ancient Great Wall of China with their backs.

The youth in May, though a little vulgar, made no secret of publicity and dared to fight for justice. Youth in May, although a little paranoid, does not evade responsibility and responsibility at all. "Every man is responsible for the rise and fall of the world" is a sacred mission; The youth in May, though impetuous, dared to write gorgeous chapters and strive for the dream of China.

The sky in May is blue and vast, and the earth in May is full of songs. We praise May and the great mother. We sing May, the broad, selfless and sacred' maternal love'. In May, we gained the most extensive feelings. ...

The warm wind in May is like a mother's warm hand. She crossed Qianshan and combed the messy hair tips for the children in the distance. In order to realize their dreams and the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation, young people are full of blood and fly all over the motherland like eagles, serving the motherland and winning glory for the country. Thick maternal love, full of bags and shoulders; Wandering in love, a boat full of gratitude, along the increasingly abundant river, sailed to the mother's heart; I wish you happiness and well-being forever, mother with hard work.

In May, azaleas bloom and turn red. Crimson pomegranate flowers jump in the breeze, like fire, burning more than fire. The fiery May is the harvest season and the node for spreading hope. For builders, May is of great significance: planting greenery and harvesting forests; If you plant sincerity, you will reap kindness; If you plant weeds, you will only reap desolation. Sow purity and hope, and you will reap the blue sky and fruitful results ... plan the most anticipated harvest and grasp it well!

The poem about May 7th, the ashes of May are full of my memories.

Those days that never passed.

I have no time to count them.

Leaving only some lonely remains.

Stuck in my throat

This is a strange number.

Slowly through my body

I witnessed his childhood.

Witnessed what he witnessed.

One year he will fall in love with a beautiful woman.

I told him it wasn't true.

He didn't argue in the struggle.

This is my life.

By someone I don't know very well.

Bright world

Is transparent at some point.

But more often, I don't understand.

Bright blue

I write poems in the middle of the night

This is the big hand that God gave me.

The only freedom we fight for.

At this moment, I saw your general outline.

I saw the poor children in the world.

Look at what I'm insisting on

There is no completely escaped silence.

I saw a man in my mouth.

Say something that cannot be recorded.

It turns out that the color of sunlight will also change.

It turns out that on fertile land.

Will also grow strange wheat.

……

What year is it today in May?

There is no room for more silence in the small room.

I will continue to hide my love from the world.

The unfinished days will continue.

Stuck in my hoarse throat

On May Poetry 8 (1)

"Don't fall asleep."

So even though the rain outside the window is ticking

I still hold my head high at the table.

sleepy

So sleepless

May

May

Damn May.

I want to tear it up now

Erase the traces of its existence in the world

So it may still exist.

year after year

So I'm still at the table

Still leaning against the windowsill

I have to look straight into May.

②

"It will clear up soon."

Although the whispers of comfort are echoing

But still sleepy

Tired with the soul.

it

All the good moods

Be carried away by raindrops

powerfully

Take it underground.

So I hate such rainy days.

But look straight at it.

Why don't you take me with you?

Take it underground.

Mr. raindrop?

Mr. Raindrop is still pattering.

Play crisp music

Although I hate self-righteous musicians

But I really can't hate it.

Such a dedicated Mr. Raindrop.

③

Hush

Listen-

There was a sound of lightning and thunder.

There is the sound of rain and wind.

This road is

The voice of a coward crying

④

How to force yourself to like something you don't like—

That's all I could think of at that time.

but

Let's end the contradictory topic here.

Although I don't like Mr. Mei

but

It doesn't seem so annoying.

because

The sound of crying

In Mr. Mei's arms

It's stopping more and more.

breathe

Even in humid air.

Smells like Mr. May.

I'm interested in Mr. May.

dislike

I don't hate it either.

⑤

Close your eyes.

What comes to mind is a beautiful picture that I have never seen before.

But what about opening your eyes

It's raining.

I always feel bored.

But after May,

That vicious sun will make people feel worse.

After may.

There is a place that won't belong to me.

After may.

After may.

……

I I I

Don't want May to go there.

At least for now.

I also want to keep a friendly attitude with Mr. May.

I don't want to listen to the night singing of Xia Chan.

I don't want to see thousands of flowers around the branches.

I just want to lie on the table.

"Ah, it's raining."

I want such a tired surprise.

I guess

Let such a day

Never stop.

My whole life

⑥

So June will come one day.

I now exist in May.

After which day will it become

A plot that can only be recalled in a dream

Even if the story is so true.

also

This is not my story anymore.

Even next May.

Next May.

All the possibilities in the universe.

It's not my May either.

I will be full next May.

May is not me.

The rings grow in circles like this.

I will grow up.

At that time, Mr. Mei

Will you laugh at me for being a coward?

⑦

"Hello, Mr. Raindrop."

"What is it?"

"Give my regards to Mr. Mei."

Mr. raindrop didn't respond to my words this time.

He is still flying in the air.

Like tears

Spray ... on

On May's shoulder.

"I'm really sorry to get Mr. Mei's clothes wet ..."

Mr. Mei smiled at me.

"As long as it is a coward's tears, I accept them without reservation."

"Don't cry next time."

"I hope so, Miss Coward."

"You are the coward."

"I am a coward."

Mr. Mei whispered.

"It will only be here,

Meeting you,

Only,

31 days,

And 31 days of memories. "

⑧

If I'm not myself today,

I will die tomorrow.

How can I be myself when I die?

If I feel weak in front of my future self today.

Then tomorrow's self will have no future.

"coward"

I just want to be stronger.

Although the practice is disgusting and pitiful.

But she

Always wanted to go

Become stronger

Even if it is windy and rainy.

Even landslides and tsunamis

Everyone wants to be stronger.

Even though it may no longer exist.

Even if May comes again.

Her crying will be smaller and smaller.

"Mr. Mei, I am not a coward."

With a wave of his hand

The raindrops stopped.

Although I dare not look up

But the innocence is being clarified.

The sun is shining brightly.

⑨

I

Yes, Mr. May.

dislike

……

I don't hate it either.

On May 9 th, the May poem, turning concern into spring rain,

Wake up the banana outside the curtain and sprinkle with joy and sadness.

May, weaving acacia into words,

The notes covered with pink snowy waves are lingering in the wind, filled with a piece of nostalgia for Chen Jiao.

May, thanks to peaches and plums, thin cherry catkins,

Pieces of grass green, strings of Sophora japonica white.

In May, clothes as thin as cicadas are quiet and comfortable.

The clear sky is like a clear lake. '

May wind, pattering and rustling,

The heart grass in the dream grows and the warbler flies,

May dream, dancing lightly,

My heart is full of the fragrance of fruit.

May is always stormy,

Accusing wheatgrass of being taken away in March, so lonely!

The fiery emotions are hidden and hidden,

An excuse to postpone the beauty of summer,

Full of affection, no one can understand!

Touch time along the vein of May,

Some thoughts are like dust; Some dreams, faint.

The splendid wheat straw in May is waiting for the laughter and laughter in the colorful autumn of English.

Maybe after a storm, look at the land.

The gentleness of a hundred knots will turn into a row of eyebrows.

May is the flying sea, and flocks of swallows return.

Spring is full of flowers, charming and sunny,

Flowers are like rain and green leaves are like the sea.

The trees are blooming, the leaves are green, the lights are gone, and the flowers are dyed.

Flowers are still easy,

It is indifferent, not angry and unhappy.

The days of May, like the eyes of a crescent moon spring, are blue and distressing.

The water in May, like the tears of a beautiful woman, is floating with melancholy blue.

In may,

Look at the time gap, how much loss and melancholy there are.

See how much transparent sadness is covered by the wind.

All my troubles are brewing at dusk in May.

The wind is so light that it seems to blow all the troubles away.

Yu Xia is slightly warm, but the sadness is so thin and cool.

So, put that soul stranded and then stranded, let the soul set out and go far away.

May, although you are lonely,

Half bright and half dark.

Prosperity will be exhausted, and the green meaning is still unfinished.

Green is dazzling, green is lonely.

In May, apricot blossoms shine and give birth to dreams.

On May Poetry 10 May,

The last flower bloomed.

Open the crisp and thin sky and soft and waxy land,

May day and night overlap,

Moonlight as white as water, immersed in the sleeping position of the caterpillar with dense branches and leaves.

The same cross talk with a bluebird.

Flowers in May are on the edge of a day.

In the blind area of people's vision

Vilen was in deep pain.

Sweep all the languages you want to speak but don't understand in the form of a hurricane.

In may,

It's dark, the air is cold and my heart is drifting away.

The scarecrow coughed softly and hurriedly in the dark purple fog.

In May, the surging sea of flowers rustled behind a man running.

Flower sea, flower sea,

Please stop,

Let me see your figure, your face, your eyes,

I only heard your deep snickering behind my back,

Like thunder, like lightning, like flame, like light,

Like a strong wind

In may,

A strong wind blew away all one's wild dreams and dreams.

In may,

Flowers bloom like a distant sea, surging in a distance that a person can't reach with a lifetime's sleep.

In may,

Meditation is futile, suicidal, a continuation of pain, a silent memorial, and doomed from birth.