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at moment I liked holding a secret dossiers； I always remembered what poem I read was about some plum flowers from my senior apprentice’s hometown； those flowers like patches of snow。
Those poems were short and mixed with a few lines words which similar to what I h*e written to my clas*ate （an honest country boy） in high school； these delicate poetries were about our luscious friendships。 And derived from my senior apprentice’s writing experience； I found some forum of poems munication； and muned with the young and older writer； I found more and more place to learn and talked my writing gain； step by step； and I dived in the poetry ocean。
This unknown secret has been hidden in most intimate place of my heart； my clas*ates still indifferent in the classroom every day； but I h*e changed with the poem； I was not the one who always stayed in the corner of the classroom to see the blackboard and overhead projector； I didn’t mind of the handwriting on the white canvas； this time I h*e not been the one before in the classroom； I h*e changed into a one who h*e more thought about the life in a poetry view； and h*e found my interesting in my daily life。
In several across…moments I began to write some poem when I remembered my story again； I begin to write my hometown； some memories when I saw mountain people carving stones and making some jingling sounds in evening； in the half way up the mountain。 I wrote about a group of cemeteries and some haunted voices from the far night of a mountain； I began to write in the classroom which was occupied by those trancelike students； I led my thoughts running。
Mr。 Cheng has praised a senior clas*ate with a passion words in my first Teaching of Writing class； it was a same class at last year； and my senior clas*ate has holding a collection of poems to Mr。 Cheng； and he got a very high academic credit。 That should be the first class； the poet has finished his Teaching of Writing class in the course of this event when he walked from the desk to the podium； and he walked throughout this semester with his book in few minutes。
This event opened a new shortcut for passing the exam inadvertently； and this new*aker became a school…sponsored poetry magazine editor undoubtedly。 In the first university class we talked about Mr。 Cheng’s opinion ardently and this event made me to remember what I h*e experienced in the past years； I also met some people like him and I call them singer or hymns people。
I thought the school singers also like the choir in the ivory tower。 I show him my poems； he suggested to post in a poem forum。 And I found lots of people wele me to their poem writing group。 They were so warm…hearted to encourage me； and began to write poems out of hand。
I h*e not published anything in the school magazine； my poetry writing movement surfaced in an essay petition which was organized by the Chinese Department； in its award…winning exhibition after the petition I win with my poems which called “the Spring of Southern Yunnan”； and I got a book as an award。
My university was called aristocratic and little students like literature； they always disdain the poet without reason； and I picked up a danger in their mind in this moment of the poems devaluation in China。 Dangerous warning from the mouth of the old man； when I sleep in class and was called awake by my friend （Zhu Xiaoliang）； he said： “our teacher talked about you。” Then I heard the words what shock me： “Do not write poetry； I think poetry make people crazy； especially the things what you recently wrote； I do not understand at all。”
And those words make my clas*ate laugh at me with an official reason； they cannot laughed at me before because they are weak in their thought； and now they can laughed at me by getting help from my teacher finally； although they just garbled some words from my teacher。 I know the example what he cited； such as a Chinese poet Gu Cheng who suicide in his young ages。 。 想看书来
Books
In the last day of March； there was no wind； no water sound； I was single sitting on the chair and facing with the books which were borrowed from the library； it was a long overdue but I really didn’t read some pages； Schopenhauer； Wittgenstein； I began to interested in them； although my friends always advised me to read useful books。
Quarters empty； blankets and sheets sleep quietly； books row and wait me to read； the only sounds are issued from the keyboard； I would probably to make a month’s reading program； and I should read those new books。 In March； the spring was an arrival； it was overwhelming and from each place； I probably h*e to sweep the sad feelings to a good one； or not to read the ideological monographs； to read more literature and some beautiful poems。
The winter of Handan city was a reminder for our stranger； in ； 2007 of lunar calendar； I clearly remembered this day； I was chatting and waiting for my printing in Handan railway station； I waited the car which came from another city； I wished the car would e on time； if not； I would never saw my book in this year。 In the last few days of 2007； I was working on my book far from my home； it was near to Chinese New Year； nobody worked in their offices； but I worked in a city for my book and my dream； it was a very big event for me in 2007 to publish a book。
Near to the moment from the train ticket； I felt the taste of battle； if my book cannot be timely delivered before the train started； I thought it would make me to feel sad。 Whether will I lost this battle in 2007？
I will win surely。
Standing on the railway station； in this bustling place； I said to myself that I h*e finished。 Sunny； blue sky； floating clouds； I was warm with those friends help and on the way back home。
“Your dream nearby； has been with you face to face。” （Holderlin）
There was a shimmer which has been exposed at the entrance of literature； which was pulling a prophecy of the dawn； since the train head to Zhengzhou station from Handan station； I clearly felt the sun shines on the way。
“Like firecrackers in the earth”； in this cultivate increasing returns。
Because this