周德成,新加坡人。从小喜欢涂涂、写写、画画,志愿是当画家,可惜事与愿违,后来始知画家不是职业。高中后方开始在报上投稿,唯生性疏懒,产量不高,只好借口东西贵精不贵多.
毕业自光华学校、德明政府中学和淡初语文特选课程
国大中文系硕士,研究兴趣为唐诗和红楼梦。
目前于国家初级学院教授华文与文学
新加坡作家协会理事,以及书法家协会会员。
曾于《i周刊》自由撰稿,兼不定期撰写专栏文字。
2004获模范华文教师奖,以及2005获大专文学奖(诗歌组)首奖。
作品收录于《新加坡当代诗歌精选》、《新加坡微型小说选》和《跨世纪微型小说选》
南大《文坛新秀》、艺术理事会Mentor Access计划,与2007/8驻校作家计划导师
曾出版四人散文/小说合集《四书》、2004年编《新加坡的99幅文学风景》、2006主编新华文学《旅行的意义》
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New
updates:
Tuesday,
August 24, 2004
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I like this. Attitude enuff.
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日子日子,像翻书
日子日子犹如翻书
计时器与页底数字同时
跳跃、闪变、迷失
听嘀嗒嘀嗒人来人去
一个段落一个句子一个字
偶然吸引你的目光勾走你的灵魂
最后我们笔直
头也不回,合书,像续程旅驿的过客
假若我你
有日再次重温几近尘封的书
是否像从容笑阅累累情书,像迷惘入梦,像顾镜自怜
抑或,依旧,动容如昔?
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Lies lie(s) the unexposed,
the pretended and the presupposed
Their eloquent voices, like
noises, word for word
You could have heard,
you must have heard
My face rumbling with dirt
My soul hurt
The wind hidden under the door
Smoke flooded and drowned
A dead corpse, which no one saw
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Friday,
July 02, 2004
"I've
been in love before. It's like a narcotic.
At first it brings
the euphoria of complete surrender.
The next day, you
want more. You're not addicted yet, but you like the sensation,
and you think you can control things.
You think about the
person you love for two minutes and forget them for three hours.
But then you get used to that person, you begin to be completely
dependent on them. Now you think about him for three hours and
forget him for two minutes.
If he's not there,
you feel like an addict who can't get a fix.
And just as addicts
steal and humiliates themselves to get what they need, you're
willing to do anything for love."
By
the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept; Paulo
Coelho
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Sunday,
June 13, 2004
Love has ended before it began.
(We
should then became strangers, again
as
this is how we began)
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Past Tense
Dancing lights glittered, spilling through the eyes of
an enormous net of leaves
The afternoon shades of milky warmth faded like time
The faces that were hidden under layers and layers of
memories
Potrayed such weirdly young images that mirrored like
the perpetual sunshine
I was blindfolded like 2 playful cats
One black and the other white, both dumbfounded
I slept in an afternoon of bubbles and melodies of
dreams
Encores, applauses,beachlines, sunglasses and waters
Marching into harsh reality like bees and butterflies
My eyes bittered, soured and sored
at a critical point where innocence
disguised as ignorance, has once crowded
like leaves drinking dews
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Came across this:
Lost Emily
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Thursday, June 03, 2004
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___________________________________________
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山一程,水一程。
身向榆关那畔行,
夜深千帐灯。
风一更,雪一更。
聒碎乡心梦不成
故园无此声。
~纳兰性德《长相思》
I kinda like this
poem, let me do a direct translation here..
Perpentual Lovesick
A route of
mountains, a foot of waters
My body directed
to the elm frontier pass, along the lake i passed
In the deep night
thousands of tents lit.
2 hrs of wind,
120 minutes of snow
Mutters of
lovesick souls, in sleepless night with dreams never realised
Back THERE no
such voices are heard
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WHEN
EXISTENCE MERELY SCARS LIKE IRONY
When we are going to different schools
When we are going seperate
ways
When our friends
become different and we have different friends
when perspectives
differs and all else ignored
When we dun feel
for one another as much as before
When the affection
between one another becomes unequal
When i learnt
that you have eventually found the one
when the one eventually
become your Mr or Mrs
When ur
surname changed to his
When we become
older
When we become
old
When cuts
perpectually exists as merely scars
We seperate in
seperate ways
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War is about "Young men dying, and old men talking"
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Love
goes toward love
as
school boys from their books
But
love from love
toward
school with heavy looks
~William Sheakspeare "Romeo
and Juliet"
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Some titles that caught my eyes at Kinokuniya....
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(作者:wh )
男:"我可以向你问路吗?"
女:"到那里?"
男:"到你心里"
男:"你的腿一定很累吧!"
女:"为什么?"
男:"因为你在我脑海中跑了一整天"
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<重庆森林>
每个人都有失恋的时候,而每一次我失恋呢,我就会去跑步,
因为跑步可以将你身体里面的水分蒸发掉,而让我不那么容易流泪,我怎么可以流泪呢?
在 女人的心中里面,我可是一个很酷的男人
。 在2004年的X月X号,有一个女人跟我讲了一声“生日快乐”,因为这一句话,我会一直记住这个女人。如果记忆也是一个罐头的话,我希望这罐罐头不会过期;如果一定要加一个日子的话,我希望她是一万年。
我和她接近的时候,我们之间的距离只有0.01公分,
我对她一无所知,57个小时之后,我爱上了她,六个钟头之后,她喜欢了另一个男人。
我以为会跟她在一起很久,就像一架加满了油的飞机一样,可以飞很远,谁知道飞机中途会转站……
一个人哭喊,你给纸巾他就行;但如果一间屋的人哭喊,你就要做很多事情。
不知道什么时候开始,我变成一个很小心的人,每次我穿雨衣的时候,我都会戴太阳眼镜,你永远都不知道什么时候会下雨,什么时候出太阳。
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Friday,
April 30, 2004
INDIFFERENCE
__________________________________
Being
indifferent is not hard
It
is an art
Out
of the nutshell, something which i have learnt to spell
Living like
a dying cell
No
more hard-sell, no longer myself
for
all you can tell
What
else? It is really no more like hell
I
melted
I
ceased to yell
On
the spot my knees fell
Oh
well, I am doing it unexceptionally well
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Eat
Me like a Cigarette
Do not be kind, do not be kind
for all have to die
My fingers, my hair, my blood all pale and dry
"It's not from mommy's cigarettes.
It's all daddy's fault-
It's hereditary." (1)
But why but why?
My
dearest Daddy
you are joining mommy
in all
the cigarettes and ashes she secretly keeps?
(1)-These 3 lines adapted from nightlychaos
IMPRESSIONS- Light dances with shadows
Wednesday,
April 14, 2004
当你的音容成为我的呼吸和氧气
请勿把我身上仅存的孤寂
用你深邃眼睛,强行取去
Monday, April 12,
2004
Monday, April 05, 2004
I have
only found a reason to breathe
I have
yet to discover an excuse to sleep
Grave,
grave my breathe
which,
like untold words, forbidden curse, slips deep into my uneasy feet
I know
it, i know it
Living,
being, is as serious as it is
as loud,
as unsound, as it is being silently announced
Tuesday,
December 23, 2003
原来有一种东西
比躺着的离愁
比一对有距离感的目光
比一群群从此不相干的孤独
更迷惘、更苦闷
我眼睛因衰老而变得雪亮
但因此察觉世界其实更黑暗
我沉默、我安静
夜色在我面前打着莫名的手语
我的灵魂与众人的距离越来越远
这种距离的空间的回音好沉好凉
隐隐还有孤独的风吹过的声音
当我
连打一个喷嚏都可以暂时麻醉自己
时
我很害怕
原来我只是个孩子
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comments
Tuesday,
December 16, 2003
Sunday,
November 23, 2003
---Photographed in a street market in Hong Kong
Paradox
Unreal city
In a white mist of a December morning
Co-existing were the living dead, lifeless creatures
and the walking corpses
Out of the wooden casements of wind-cracked windows
Waves of light from bulbs crisscross one another
Expressionless faces overlap
A traveler named solitude stood without words
In the midst of a clamorous crowd
And time paused for a split-second
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comments
假日
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see
Eng Translation
经过客厅,走过厨房
绝对完整安静的痛苦
藏在和我一般身高的冰箱
早晨阅读着报纸
28度的天气里烫煮着浓郁的咖啡
时间过去,不过像有人在讲鬼话
有些是笑话有些是哭声
一些笑话我不会笑
那些哭声我哭不出
广告迷惑眼睛,时间蒙住心头
用梦的形式来度量日子的深度
电视荧幕播着一个人在打电话
我打电话对方说在看电视
这是一种怎样的思考
这是一种怎样的辩证
沉默比车水马龙的市集喧闹
回声长于大排长龙的记忆
第一人称只可以是冰封的谎话
第三人称有点像咖啡
电话传真谎言
电视虚构真实
咖啡使你清醒,冰箱使你冷静
冰块是固体
冰是未融化的梦幻
你发送简讯说你又做了个梦
指尖进行过滤删除后得知
小部份是你的神话,大部分则是蜡染画
是一次次染上去的真实,
还是一层层叠上的虚构?
其实大多数只是你我的梦话
那场大梦——
谁都记得,谁都选择不记得:
我们记得了什么,
我们又能记住什么?
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