【Poetry Sharing】Walking Through Time ("Bohai Literature" 21-2-2022)

Write before reading:

I'm not very good at writing poetry, but I'm a picky eater when it comes to reading.

I prefer Xu Peifen's style of writing poetry, digging out my inner feelings in the inspiration that seems to be insane.

Or Gu Cheng's poems, which are straightforward and rough on the outside but have incomparably delicate and rich inner emotions.

If poetry just tells stories flatly, I would feel that this is just prose with paragraphs rearranged, and it lacks several layers of artistic conception and the beauty of white space.

The poems shared today, the front is written too straight, not my favorite style, but the more the back, the better, and finally I have the feeling of reading poems.

In any case, the wisdom of a life-savvy author, no matter what form he writes, has always served me well.

Today, I will share these 7 poems with you. If you like it, you can go to the WeChat public account of "Bohai Literature" to support or give a reward.

Traveling in Time (Chapter 7)

Author ‖ Cai Xu

chance encounter

A poetry recitation party gathered by famous artists amazed my screen.

It's a beautiful and splendid chanting, and it's no wonder that after 17 years, it is still sent to the WeChat group.

Rarely held my phone, I sat quietly for more than two hours.

It seems that I have waited for 17 years, and I have cultivated patience because of my original intention.

As the camera passed the auditorium, a familiar figure suddenly flashed before my eyes.

In addition to being surprised, his clear smiling face brushed over again, which gave me confirmation.

There is no mistake, an old classmate, waved goodbye for more than 50 years.

Now, in such an unpredictable way, I have crossed time and space to meet me.

The post I forwarded caused a stir among the old classmates.

Of course, the most surprising thing was the person in the movie himself.

He had watched the party live, but he hadn't seen the video, and he didn't even know he showed his face there.

Can't help but ask me: where did you find this video? How did you find out about me?

I also have a hard time answering this chance encounter.

Maybe it was the call of poetry that made me unable to miss this party in the massive video?

Maybe it was the long-term miss that made him jump in front of me without losing the opportunity to be in the crowd of thousands?

Perhaps, everything in the world will be arranged.

Appear when it should appear, meet when it should meet.

peer

Before you know it, 40 years have passed.

Our legs and feet were young then. The same group of legs and feet of the same age came to the foot of Mount Emei.

They walked together in twos and threes, keeping their footsteps and the gradually rising scenery together.

Only the two of us accompanied by prose and poetry, filled time with poetry, traveled the journey with philosophical thoughts, exchanged exhaustion and sleepiness with excitement, and reached the golden summit in one breath.

After shaking hands with Huazang Temple and saying goodbye to the sea of clouds, he took advantage of the excitement and went down with his fingers for 115 miles.

The train of time rolled forward, constantly going up and down, and the group of people who were traveling with each other gradually lost contact.

There are only the two of us, and there is no separation between mountains and rivers.

The wild geese passed on the book at the beginning, followed by the voice connection, and now we meet every day on WeChat.

Why us, why only us?

Unloaded many people and many things, unloaded our glory, top gun and faltering.

Just leave a way.

There is only one road to Mount Emei 40 years ago.

Just because the prose and poems accompanied him all the way, it blocked the long climb, blocked the 40 years of spring flowers, autumn moon and thousands of mountains.

blank

In fact, I also really want to dance on stage, and it's not that I don't have the opportunity.

It was the end of 1976, a day of national celebration.

A dancer was absent when the Mining Area Amateur Art Troupe was rehearsing a show.

I was one of the team leaders and had to fill the void, and I thought I could fill it.

Unexpectedly, after several times, I could not keep up with the rhythm and the unusual pace.

I accidentally became the person who was holding back, the person who would rather be short than excessive, and the person who couldn't sing and dance.

I'd better participate in the backing vocals, or pull the curtain.

Offstage, you can also write subtitles and play slideshows.

These, I can do well, better than many.

There is always something that stands outside of passion, outside of desire.

There are not gaps that can be filled by others.

It's not a blank, I can fill it.

More than 40 years later, until now, I still have this blank.

Even if I was pulled into the dance floor, I voluntarily quit.

They may not know, but of course they know very well, I am not a person who is good at dancing.

time

Since the wall clock in the house stopped swinging, the old mother-in-law has no time.

A pair of staggering footsteps moved in front of me, and I asked again and again: What time is it?

After 95 years, her ears have fallen into disrepair, and her head is often turned upside down.

Every half hour or so, I'll ask again. She just said it, and she will forget it again.

I understand that she is not to know the time, but just to pass the time.

Not to talk to me, but just want someone to talk to her.

At this time I was in the study, racking my brains to decipher my verses.

The train of thought coming from afar was interrupted again and again by footsteps nearby.

But I can't blame her for it, only me.

I only know to fill the emptiness of my time, but I forgot—

She also has to fill the empty time.

implement

My son is going to be transferred to work at the headquarters in a different place, and it has been passed on for a few days. The message repeated many times. Reverse, and reverse again.

Can't say good or bad.

Go, it must be good for his career. However, the elderly and children at home have to be taken care of by my wife and me.

A stone weighed on my heart, causing my thoughts to overlap over and over again without being able to cut them out.

On this day, the transfer order finally arrived, and he will report tomorrow. A stone fell to the ground, and even the dust settled.

It is useless to think about anything that is not up to you to decide.

No matter whether it is good or bad, you can only face it.

Fortunately, there is no need to wait for rumors.

It also saves you to compare and choose.

sprinkle water

The trustworthy sprinkler arrives on time with singing.

Water the road, water the street trees and green belts, and water the green grass and safflower by the roadside.

Water zebra crossings and guardrails.

Watering pedestrians who have no time to hide.

Water the water.

I don't know if it knows? Just now, God has poured water once.

Even the telephone poles and traffic lights are regretting—

No raincoat provided.

dialect

I heard that some people are practicing dialect in order to return to their hometown after a long absence.

Many people do not believe.

Those native dialects that were spoken at birth, those nutrients grown from the soil and water of the hometown, have long since turned into flesh and blood.

Even with the passage of time, only the fur will be lost, and those flesh and blood will not change even when they are old.

I remember there was a He Zhizhang, whose temples were fading, but his accent did not change.

Me too, I have been away from my hometown for 50 or 60 years, and I don’t see any change in my dialect.

However, I also believe that some people will need to study the dialect.

I've met some people who have returned home, and surprisingly, they don't have the slightest earthiness in what they say.

About the Author

Cai Xu, a white man from Guangdong, now lives in Zhuhai, and is a non-retired prose poet. Published 34 collections of prose and poetry, including "Cai Xu's Fifty Years of Prose and Poems", and 10 collections of prose and short essays.