Writing Mother's Modern Poems Part I: Messy in the Wind
It's your white hair
Tears came out.
This is your old face
Slightly curved back
Farewell hand
I dare not look back.
Afraid I'll never leave again
The pace of leaving home
Always want to lean in your arms.
Relive childhood dreams
I always want to look into your eyes.
Say what Chen Jiao said.
in front of you
I am a child who will never grow up.
But I'm growing
Ignore your tears
Walk a long way.
Now I am also a mother.
Looking at the child in his arms
Grow up day by day
I just realized the greatness of maternal love.
But your sideburns
flowers blooming like a piece of brocade
Go home often.
This is all I can give you.
A little reward
Writing Mother's Modern Poems Part II: 1
Mom, can I sweet talk in front of you?
Is there anything I can't tell you?
Wildfire burned my rope and coat,
The fact that I have become a man will certainly surprise you.
My wings are flapping in the sun and shadows you can't see.
2
In the nest you built,
Under your wings, my flesh and blood is getting fuller and fuller.
I accept your milk, caress and training,
Hair and limbs are controlled by some rules,
Grow symmetrical and elegant.
I lie in front of your eyes and smile every day.
Your breath tames my blood,
I became shy, quiet and full of warmth.
So, the wounds and tears of the earth,
Tortured and supported my nerves,
Sad music is floating inside and outside.
three
You are the church, the voice of God, the calling and the eternal light source.
But I am humble as dust and evil as a sinner.
I fear the light from heaven, pray and tremble.
Your expectations become whips and dams.
You can't hear my dreams or see my visions.
You carefully designed clothes, chairs and beds for me.
Hold my hand tightly,
Until love and tolerance are my enemies.
four
Mom, have you ever seen waves and magma?
Have you ever seen a fleeting meteor?
Have you ever heard the wolf howl?
Have you ever heard the sound of broken bones and nerves?
You don't understand why I always wander alone in the wilderness.
Why do you sometimes get carried away with laughter?
Sometimes I feel depressed and uneasy.
When you found me singing and playing the piano in the middle of the night flirting with girls,
You will be sure that I have gone astray.
five
Give me freedom! Give me back my energy!
Give back my original desire! Give me a fresh feeling!
Mom, if I yell at you like this, can you understand?
Won't you panic?
To no avail, irreversible,
I am numb to stimulation, although my heart is full of longing.
six
Ah, mother, you are the order in chaos,
Is due to confusion and fanaticism,
It is the home of vagrants, it is
Unreachable realms and dreams.
I am broad and kind because of you,
I'm getting old too early because of you again.
Writing Mother's Modern Poems (3): Meditating on the Long River of Time
Crawl all the way
Wings enrich the color of the earth.
in the dark
Retract the yarn flowing on the horizon
Bell Gulle
Popular all the way.
Dust description
Quiet and warm home
subside
Miss the care of going out.
Enthusiastic patience
Unscramble the embarrassment of life
(of a singer/speaker) with an outstanding voice.
Teach children nature and ability.
It's a pity
Bend your tired body and mind.
Mother's life
Ordinary happy children
Never leave or give up/never say goodbye.
Accustomed to giving without saying reincarnation
Is that okay?
Say that a good child will be your mother in the afterlife.
Repay you
Writing Mother's Modern Poems Part IV: Mottled White Hair
Myopia due to old age
Be beset with all diseases
Tired and heartbroken
slump
Skin fat and cheek collapse
This is my mother.
This is my mother.
Decades ago
In a slightly yellow photo
A girl with two long black braids.
I am also shy and charming.
Leaves increase eyes and cut water.
Look dignified.
It exudes the brilliance of youth and health.
This is my mother.
This is my mother.
For decades.
Mom, for me.
Endure all kinds of hardships
eat humble pie
Just looking forward to my son
Can be safe.
Grow up quickly
But when I was growing up,
Mother was silent.
I have given my best years.
This is my mother.
This is my mother.
I didn't think of you until Mother's Day.
Son's heart
I have always cared about you, too.
I dare not expect your happiness.
My son is missing.
Mom's happiness is far away.
I didn't think of you until Mother's Day.
At the turn of cold and summer,
All the sons are praying silently.
I wish my mother health and safety.
Wind and sand fog
Don't block it.
Mom's way home from shopping.
Rain and snow are slippery.
Will mom?
Trapped alone in an empty home
Most afraid of thinking
The sun is sinking in the west
Sitting alone by the window
In the dim eyes
A mother with tears in her eyes
This is my mother.
This is my mother.
Memories of my mother
cracked
just as
Mom broke her heart for me.
Not only on "Mother's Day"
Will think of you.
Because you are.
My heart!
We are each other.
day and night
worry
Writing Mother's Modern Poems Chapter 5: My Dream
Melt in the snow
Piaopiao all the way
Move eastward
Mother far away from home
Village head tuyere
passionately
Waiting for the dream to return.
How many years?
Every snowsuit
Write full of memories
How many years?
Every wisp of snow water
With my lovesick tears.
miserable
Today's mother
My hair has turned gray.
miserable
Mother in the wind
The years are ruthless.
Standing between heaven and earth
How I want to break the bone marrow.
For the old mother.
Send a glass of good wine
Think more.
Burning soul
Be a phoenix in the fire
For mother.
Dance like crazy
Mom.
My golden pen
Often suffocate in helplessness.
I don't know
My heart sea
Can you still keep love and affection?
Mom.
When snow drifts across the sky with the wind.
The most trembling and shy wisp
It is my mood.
Under?the?sun
Turn into tears
Blend into the fields of my hometown
Drip on the mother's feet.
Mom.
mother
Call mom.
I have no regrets.
Writing Modern Poems of Mother Chapter 6: Maybe, I really don't understand you.
Although I am a piece of meat on you.
Although I have your blood on me
Who made us merge and miss it?
You said, you are old.
You forget the beauty of your youth.
Gave everything to this land.
And stitches and stitches.
Is the scar that the hoe pressed on the shoulder still there?
I know, your pain is gone.
Those scars have formed thick cocoons.
Have you forgotten your fluttering hair?
How many times have I been proud?
I think you must have forgotten.
Hair has been wandering with endless towards the distant.
You said you were afraid of the night.
Loneliness will devour your soul.
There are no tears in your swollen eyes.
In fact, years have made you cry.
You've been crying.
I just don't know the taste of tears.
Maybe you really don't know me.
I am not a dutiful son.
My blood was thrown into the wind by missing.
Who wants Tianya to take over people's hearts?
I only left one sentence. I'm leaving.
Only a grain of loess on the trouser leg was taken away.
Left you on land.
I still have your cloth shoes in my closet.
Wear it in my dreams every night.
Your busy figure in the moonlight is still in my mind
You tell people I'm lazy.
But he told me not to be too tired.
I just want to hold your skinny hand.
Let's look at the shadows in the field.
A pheasant will pass by.
Singing affectionately about the children who are late.
What a beautiful phoenix you say it is.
The sunset set off a red tide on the horizon.
You said the land is a piece of gold.
I said I like sunsets.
Waiting for the golden beauty of my hometown
Writing Mother's Modern Poems Chapter 7: Mom, Mom, I am homesick.
I always feel blind when I go home now.
But you're always away,
This place doesn't belong to you!
Heaven is your home,
You can stay there.
Being young is not about not wanting to get up.
Children work for themselves.
Help the old and take care of the young,
Run for a living.
My children are unfilial to you,
It's too late to know and correct your mistakes.
It rained a lot during my stay in Tomb-Sweeping Day.
Passers-by are dizzy.
My entourage is very busy,
Salute your mother and rush forward.
Mom, mom, I'm sitting in the east,
I want to understand in my next life.
Busy with work and life,
Respect the old and love the young, and never fail.
Write a modern poem about mother Chapter 8: Mother is gone.
It is also the busiest time of the year.
Birds are also tired of the cold life in the north.
Fly to the south in a hurry
Mom is gone.
Took away the attachment but left the missing.
May the wild geese return to the north tomorrow.
Bring me her deepest thoughts.
Writing Mother's Modern Poems Chapter 9: When I was a Child
I am an oasis in your heart.
No matter how hard and tired you are.
You always like to put your warm lips close to my forehead.
When I grow up
I'm just a dream boat in your boundless love.
No matter how far and how long I drift.
I can't even get rid of your tenderness in my hands.
then
I became the green pomelo on your branch.
You always wash the dust of my years with blood.
Immerse your hopes in the spring and autumn of life.
at present
I'm just a glass of wine you mixed.
Pick it up? Laughter on the joys and sorrows of life
Taste the mellow and heavy thoughts alone.
Writing Modern Poems of Mother Chapter 10: I read a poem called Poetry Demon.
I learned to write a song.
I guess
One of my songs is enough to make her pale.
Although she is not lofty and aloof.
Or not elegant and clean.
Life is like a mountain running water.
Or blue sky and white clouds
I can use the sun, the moon and the stars.
Or snow wicker
Praise her wisdom
I guess
Just today
I have put together all the best words in the world.
Write a poem praising her.
Every child knows that.
A man who is not great.
But a very great man
Small as it is, it is high above.
Struggle through the years
Weather-beaten hard work
Pour all your love into your children.
Put all your efforts into the earth.
Terraces cultivated from the mountains
There are green trees and flowers everywhere.
Your feet are covered with mud.
Intensive cultivation every day, sewing at night.
Take the seeds of worship as gods.
Greening the whole world
In this oasis
I opened the book of life.
Dust that has bounced back for thousands of years
Precious memory exposure
Understand the philosophy of life and the truth of being a man you teach.
Everyone's life is doomed to worry and gain.
Stir-fry day and night.
Mothers never care about their children's luxury.
Some things are doomed to be lost.
Purple jade and gold in the world
Including affection.
But some souls are everywhere.
Including life.
Everything is in this poem.
It all seems
Become pale-of a woman or girl.
Because mom.