1. Write an 800-word essay on the topic of a shoulder pole

Let me remind you

Just imagine that you are carrying a shoulder pole. The two ends of the pole are filled with water.

What will happen when one end has more water and the other has less water?

The same is true in life. You must consider balance when doing things. Imbalance will inevitably lead to lack of courage.

Only when a balance is found in life will there be no deviation. Once imbalanced, it will be extreme.

You have to think about it yourself. I can’t write it for you.

This is an opportunity for you to understand life.

I will also try this theme when I have time. If you want to know, add me as HI. Maybe I can see a different understanding than you.

Let’s split up now.

Starting from the topic of the shoulder pole, the discussion of life is conducted in a simple and profound manner, opening and closing words vertically and horizontally, concisely, comprehensively and well-founded. The carrying pole and life are inexplicably combined.

And as arguments to support me, I used classic songs like Einstein who was extremely poor at reading when he was a child but was able to come up with the theory of relativity when he grew up, and Li Yuchun who did not study hard but could sing "In My Eyes Only You Have No One". historical materialism. He also quoted Paul Korchagin’s classic sayings to connect the previous and the following.

Then I changed my focus and gave counterexamples. For example, many parents have the wrong view that their children must have good grades to have a good life. Then he denounced these incorrect worldview methodologies and required such teachers and parents to study Marxism seriously and arm their brains with a scientific outlook on development. The dragon gave birth to nine sons, and people were divided into male and female (later changed to male and female), and the world became beautiful because of this.

The pole is life anyway, and life has a fulcrum anyway.

If you want to ask where to find the fulcrum, look back at yourself. 2. Carrying a pole for composition

My father is a simple man. He is of medium stature but has good muscles. I admire his physical strength. He started herding cattle when he was 9 years old and started herding cattle when he was more than 10 years old. Getting 10% off labor points in the production team started the burden of life very early on. But he was uneducated, and all he did was physical work. It was not easy to make money, so he cherished it even more. If he had to pay others for help, he always did it himself, which made him bent over from exhaustion. Tired and hunched, tired and sick.

The year when I was admitted to the normal school. When school started, my parents sent me to study. When I came to a place I was unfamiliar with, I was at a loss. Later, my parents helped me register, go through the formalities, and get the corresponding information, such as bedding, etc. Finally I can go to the dormitory. But since we had brought a lot of supplies when we came, and now there were even more supplies, my father refused to let us help, and put them all on his burden. So he picked up a heavy load and looked for a way to my bedroom.

It is drizzling, which is very inconsistent with the title of golden autumn. The sky is gray, which offsets my excitement. I entered the normal school with excellent results because I wanted to get out of the "quagmire" of being a "peasant", but I was still somewhat conceited. At that time, I was confident that I could reach my dormitory through a staircase. It was a teaching building built on a high ground, and you had to climb dozens of steps to reach the stairwell. I was in front, and my father was behind. Carrying the heavy burden that was about to touch the steps, we climbed up step by step. Because there was a newly purchased suitcase on one end of the pole, even though it was wrapped with a layer of plastic, my father was still very careful. I saw my father turning the burden sideways and walking sideways, with one hand on the pole and the other hand holding the end of the suitcase hanging on it, walking very carefully. When we reached a platform, my father could finally breathe, and took a rest after standing still. I saw that there are classrooms on both sides of this stairwell, the ladder classroom on the right, and the ordinary classroom on the left. But the corridor is very low. There is a small door on the right side at the end of the corridor, which can only allow one person to enter or exit. After exiting the door, there is a horizontal path behind the teaching building. To the north of the road is a hill, and to the south is the teaching building. .

I walked ahead and passed the small gate and waited outside to see my father coming.

The father's face was very nervous, for fear of breaking something. His legs were slightly bent, his back was slumped, and his waist was slumped. He held both ends of the pole with his hands and slowly carried the suitcase to the door. He turned the box over and sent it out along the door. He lowered his head to avoid hitting the door frame, and the box came out against the threshold. The father looked behind again and tried his best to move the heavy object out. I saw in the light rain that my father seemed to be much shorter.

It was much easier to walk on the path outside. My father could also breathe in the humid smell of earth and vegetation from the hills behind, but I felt uncomfortable with the humidity in my body.

After walking that section of the road, we went down another step and walked around the hill for a while. I suddenly realized that this place was where we had just entered. The whole journey we had been going up and down for a long time was in vain. I was stunned and told my father that we had taken the "wrong road". My father only said: "Let's go to your dormitory." So, we went to the dormitory along the foot of the mountain. Under the gray sky and the shadow of the nearby trees, I saw my father's pole swinging on his shoulder.

Now, my father’s pole still often comes to mind. I ask myself: Can I afford this pole?

The source of this composition: Diary Encyclopedia, 3. Write a composition under the moonlight

When the first auspicious snow of this year came, I, who was already middle-aged, used my childlike innocence I played in the snow with childlike interest, and when the auspicious snow was flying all over the sky for the second time this year, I admired the crystal clear snow with no confusion.

When the first auspicious snow was flying all over the sky, the quiet snowflakes were like pink butterflies in March, flying freely, and flying away freely, as quiet as pear blossoms in April, floating in the sky. , melting on the earth. She is like catkins and pear blossoms, washing away the dust between heaven and earth and purifying the hearts of all living beings in the world. When the crystal snowflakes fell down, I stretched out my hands to catch her gently. The ice-soaked snowflakes slowly melted in my hands, bringing me happiness and joy, and arousing my infinite reverie. . I took a deep breath of the crisp air, my mood became more refreshing and my emotions became richer. In this world of snowflakes flying all over the sky, far away from the hustle and bustle of the world, I can feel the tranquility of nature from a close distance, and my body and mind are intoxicated by the crystal clear snowflakes. At this moment, I truly feel that life is at ease and peaceful.

The arrival of the second auspicious snow has covered thousands of mountains and rivers with white silver. In this plain world, there are vast mountains and vast forests. There is no noise of the city or worldly disputes. I walked on the velvet-like snow, stepping on the thick snow, listening to the crunching sound under my feet, breathing the crisp air after being bathed in the snow, and feeling the coldness of the snowflakes falling on my face. In this pure world, a long-lost happy mood comes from the bottom of my heart, diluting the haze that has been weighing on my heart for many days. My eyes are bold, my feelings are bold, and my heart is bold. Looking back suddenly, I saw the crooked, deep and shallow footprints behind me, and I seemed to see the path I had traveled over the years - different shades and different bends, without a straight path.

In fact, isn’t a person’s life just like walking on snow? 4. Write a narrative about Grandma’s Pole

Grandma’s Pole

My family is a very trendy family, with widescreen TVs, LCD computers, and recently, my father also bought a small car. However, there is one thing that even though it is very old, I never want to throw it away. What on earth is this? It turned out that it was a pole, a smooth pole that grandma had used for decades.

Grandma’s mulberry tree pole is red with use and polished until it shines. Now, it has long been retired and stands in the study room of my home.

Thirty years ago, my family lived in the countryside. My grandfather was in poor health and could not do heavy farm work. My father, his three siblings, were young and still in elementary school. The family's contracted land is mainly managed by grandma. Thanks to grandma's hard work, our family has a surplus of food rations every year, but we don't have much pocket money, so we have to scrape together everything we need.

So, after discussion, grandma and grandpa decided to turn a piece of dry land that used to grow corn into a vegetable field.

In this vegetable plot of less than an acre, we sow amaranth and green vegetables in the spring, cucumbers and cowpeas in the summer, and harvest radishes and Chinese cabbage in the autumn... In those days, there were always two pigs in the pigsty in my hometown, and not many more. Heaven, there will be a pit of pig manure. Grandma has to pick loads of manure from the vegetable field almost every afternoon. Many mornings, before dawn, grandparents would come to the vegetable field, select two baskets of fresh vegetables, and then grandma would carry them on her small mulberry tree pole to catch the morning market in the town a few miles away. In this way, my family’s vegetable garden has been running year after year, and my grandma’s carrying pole has been picked up year after year.

With grandma picking and choosing, my father, brother and sister gradually grew up and later got married and started a business. More importantly, they all possessed the characteristics of grandma back then - hard work and simplicity. Today, my dad runs a shoe factory and my mom helps him manage the finances. My uncle's family is in Changzhou, and he is the workshop director of a diesel engine factory. My sister-in-law is a doctor at a maternal and child health hospital.

My grandma who is nearly 70 years old has stopped doing farm work, but she still grows many vegetables in front of and behind the house in her old house, so there is always green food on our table.

Grandma’s carrying pole paved the way for my family to become rich through self-reliance and hard work. I should also inherit the glorious family tradition from this unusual carrying pole and move towards my own life path. 5. A composition describing moonlight

The black night gradually fell, and various stars, big or small, bright or dark, were painted on the curtain, blinking in and out.

There are also some fluttering clouds that cannot be seen clearly. These seem to be guards, waiting for the arrival of the Moon Princess again. When the moon comes, it first walks into the lobby wearing a light orange evening dress and says hello to everyone.

As we walked on the street, the moon playfully jumped over the treetops, hid under the eaves, and suddenly passed over the roof and jumped over the low wall. It danced a beautiful and rhythmic waltz quickly, and flashed in front of my eyes with brisk steps.

It seems to be showing off its superb skills to win the applause of countless audiences. The night got deeper, and when the moon appeared again under the eaves, it had put on a bright white dress, and in an instant, it was radiant.

The moon has become mature. It no longer plays, but has been walking quietly in front of us. The tired moon hid in the clouds to rest, leaving only a few stars standing guard.

The moon hangs diagonally in the sky, smiling, and the stars crowd the Milky Way, blinking. A full moon rose, like a bright lamp, hanging high in the sky.

The moon opened its eyes and looked at the villages and fields kindly, like a polished copper plate. The full moon gradually rose, and her silver plate-like face showed a soft smile.

The bright full moon has been lifted up into the sky by the blue mountains in the distance. The moon is round, like a spinning wheel, spinning her romantic reverie.

The night was extremely quiet. The full moon, like a jade plate, was passing through the clouds, and its faint moonlight was shining on the earth. An apricot-yellow full moon crept out from the mouth of the mountain and threw its reflection into the lake.

The full moon is like a yellow lantern, rising from the eastern horizon in the sky. At night, the full moon rose, and a tranquility shone on the earth with the silvery moonlight.

The moon is gradually rising. She is wearing a white gauze dress, demure and peaceful, gentle and generous. Her silver plate-like face left a gentle smile through the willow branches.

The moon is like a newly married daughter-in-law. She just came up from the eastern sky and shyly hid in the leaves of the trees. The moon is like a weather-beaten old man, taking his time to sort out the white moonlight.

The moon is like a shy girl. Sometimes she hides in the clouds, and sometimes she lifts her veil to reveal her charming face. The whole world is soaked in dreamy silver-gray by the moonlight. The moon was so bright, illuminating the earth like snow and blue, and the trees, houses, and streets seemed to be coated with a layer of mercury.

Outside the door on the west side of the forest, the waxing moon has turned into a golden watermelon, no longer a curved eyebrow.

In the early morning, the waning moon was like a tarnished pebble, thrown into the sky.

A new moon is like a white pear blossom, blooming peacefully in the light blue sky. The night sky is full of stars, and the moon is like a fishing boat, as if it is sailing in the broad silver river.

The moon is like a bow, hanging in the sky. A crescent moon rose from the distant woods. It was as white as newly refined silver.

A crescent moon, like a silver sickle, stretched out from the dark mountain peaks. A crescent moon rose, like a jade-shaped banana embedded in the sky, glowing with green brilliance.

The crescent moon is like a small boat, with its pointed bow tilted up, rowing in the quiet lake late at night, bringing me a feeling of love. A crescent moon hung high in the dark blue sky, its clear water-like light shining on the earth.

The new moon is like a golden boat anchored among the sparse branches. The half moon hung diagonally on the top of a locust tree, like an orange petal.

The moon is as small as a hairpin and so curved that it makes people enchanted. A hazy moon emerged from the transparent clouds like cicada wings, shining with silver brilliance.

A silver hook in the night sky sheds infinite light. The crescent moon is curved, like the sweet smiles of girls.

Under the crescent moon and above the willow branches, there is a pair of stars like the eyes of a smiling fairy, teasing the crooked crescent moon and the swaying willow branches. The crescent moon is like a silver boat.

The crescent moon outside the window is like chrysanthemum petals blooming in the blue night sky. The crescent moon shuttles through the thin clouds, like a barracuda, lively and cute.

The crescent moon is like a girl's eyebrows, hanging curvedly in the pure air. The moon rose, glowing red, as if someone had picked up a big red lantern from the eastern horizon.

The moon rises, like a moon ice disk that has just been dehydrated, not stained by dust. The moon girl rose, as if she was speaking quietly to the little stars around her.

A full moon is rising slowly, and the silver moonlight reflects a few feathery light clouds, which is wonderful. The rising moon hangs over the top of the mountain. Although it is as pale as a cloud, it is getting brighter every moment.

The moon is out to sea. The moment it soared into the air, it seemed to jump suddenly, covered with water, letting the passionate sea wash it away, making it exceptionally bright and clean.

A ray of soft moonlight shines through the window and onto the windowsill, which looks like it has been plated with silver. The moonlight, like a silver yarn, hangs down from the window.

The moonlight passed through the shade of the trees, leaking out the glittering broken jade all over the ground. The fifteenth-year-old full moon is like a snowball, set in the dark blue night sky, looking particularly bright.

The cold moon hangs high on the branches, and the cold wind blows the bare branches until they scream. The moon in early winter was clear and cold, casting an icy silver glow from the west.

The moon finally rose into the deserted sky, shining white and crystal clear. 6. Writing essays with moonlight companions

It was another night, covered with silvery moonlight, walking on the bluestone road and admiring the beautiful scenery under the moonlight: people walking under the moonlight, an old woman taking her little granddaughter. Enjoy the coolness in the moonlight.

I grew up under the moonlight. I remember that in the summer, whenever night fell, my grandma would take me to the small yard to enjoy the cool air. Grandma stroked me with her calloused hands and told me old folk legends while fanning herself. Falling asleep to the sound of stories, I felt so relaxed and happy.

When I was young, I loved catching bugs. Under the dim moonlight, you can hear the singing of various insects everywhere, and the most beautiful one is definitely the cricket. I used a flashlight and quietly approached the haystack. I turned over the big rocks and found crickets wearing black "coats" jumping around there. I covered it with both hands, then carefully picked it up, and captured one. Then, under the moonlight, I happily fight crickets with my neighbor friends.

Every year during the Mid-Autumn Festival, my family and I taste mooncakes under the moonlight and sing the song "August and the 15th Moon are Full". The atmosphere is warm and happy. 7. Requesting an essay on the topic of "carrying pole". The essay must be argumentative and should be no less than 800 words.

I feel that when I feel tired in spring, I like to look far away. I am delighted to find that the distant mountains seem to have regained their green memories. .

A few clusters of pale pink halfway up the mountain exude a hint of shyness. When I feel happy studying, I will unconsciously raise my head. The sky seems to be much higher, the clear sky seems to have been washed with water, and the floating clouds lie lazily and comfortably.

This is the eighteenth spring of my life. People always say that spring is beautiful and fleeting, which makes people feel sad.

Summer is exciting and brave, while winter is calm and peaceful. And autumn seems to have the same fate as spring, being accompanied by falling eagles and returning geese, and is crowned with a wandering and lonely emotion.

But isn’t there a poem that goes, “Autumn has been sad and lonely since ancient times, but I say autumn is better than spring”? Since the sages have conveyed joyful messages to us, I dare to change the meaning of spring. The beauty of spring lies not only in the vitality of the long grass and the flying orioles in the sky; not only in its beauty and cuteness that arouses pity; but also in its shortness that inspires people's enthusiasm to cherish time and enjoy life.

Especially for our group of older children who are about to complete their growth and move towards the vast world of science, this spring is particularly precious and unforgettable. Don't be swayed by everything around you. The decision-making power about your views on a thing is in your hands.

So now when I face the heavy study tasks in my senior year of high school, I will be calm and happy. That's my life and my future, and it's really great to be able to put these burdens on my shoulders and feel myself getting stronger and more confident.

My practice of spring will be determined by my feelings. When it comes to life, the fulcrum will always be on my shoulders.

In such a beautiful season, I also want to take a short vacation for myself, so that my tired body and mind can take a deep breath of the pheasant. Let’s fly a kite, but at that time, the strong winds and the chaotic wind direction made me very anxious. The kite swayed left and right in the sky, precariously.

I began to learn from the grandfather around me to control the kite by adjusting the clues in his hands, so that it could better use the power of the wind to climb higher. It turned out to be so simple, because I held the string of the kite tightly and could control it.

There was a "fully armed" little boy who was learning to ride a bicycle by the riverside. He seemed to be having a hard time. He was so well protected but it seemed that he also fell in pain because he didn't get on the bicycle. I noticed that the head of the rider I was holding was always tilted, and it was difficult not to fall. I walked up to him, who was a little frustrated, and raised the kite string in my hand towards him: "Brother, you have to hold the steering wheel tightly and adjust the direction correctly. You will learn it soon.

Just like a sister holding the string of a kite, doesn't the kite obey her instructions? "The child looked up at me, his eyes flashing with joy, just like me just now. In the face of life, some students feel that they are powerless. After they succeed, they look back and realize that they did not work hard enough at that time.

The fulcrum of the kite's life is the thin string in my hand; the fulcrum of the bicycle is the faucet that you should hold firmly to control the direction. The fulcrum of life, I can't tell what it will be, but I will always put it on my shoulders, feel its weight, complete my struggle, and move toward tomorrow.

I am a child born in spring. I will spend this eighteenth spring of my life seriously and hand over to her an answer sheet with a faint fragrance. I wish that people in Sichuan will stand upright and have a song. The poem goes like this: ("Ballet Pole") Anyway/it is a period of life;/the fulcrum of life/is always/on our own shoulders. This is really a good poem.

Comparing life to a shoulder pole is indeed an imaginative work of genius. Life has different metaphors in different poems, some are likened to a ball of numbness, and some are compared to a race.

Why does the poet compare it to a carrying pole here? It turns out that the poet emphasizes the responsibility of life. The fulcrum of the responsibility is the "shoulder" mentioned in the poem.

Yes, no matter how heavy the shoulder of life is, we must carry it on our shoulders. Like Kafka, even if it is like an iron fence; like Lu Xun, even if it is like a dark gate; like Du Fu, even if it is like an endless falling tree; like Jesus, even if it is like a heavy cross.

Carrying life on your shoulders does not mean living quietly, nor does it mean living for the sake of survival. Living a meaningful life and pursuing a meaningful life is the real responsibility.

Here, I want to say that some great people bear life in ways that are not easy for us to understand. Qu Yuan knew that the meaning of his life was to pursue beauty and goodness.

The history of his life is the history of responsibility, that is, he shoulders the heavy burden of national revitalization. However, he finally chose to die.

There may be many interpretations of his death, but I can also understand that he did not want to live like a zombie. In other words, once he knows that his shoulders will become useless due to the king's stupidity, death is a wise choice.

This is not to avoid responsibilities, but to fulfill his reputation of being born with the courage to take responsibility. Indeed, if he is relegated to the world, if he is unwilling to bear the aestheticism, he can completely forget about nature and live a leisurely and independent life among the flowers under the moon, until he dies and returns to the earth.

Therefore, compared with Qu Yuan, the pastoral poet who returned to nature, although his literary achievements may not be satisfactory, but in terms of shouldering the burden and resisting evil with his body, his weight is quite light. . Now I am a scholar.

The pressure of the college entrance examination fell on my shoulders like the heavy snow in winter. Therefore, my shoulder seemed to be the fulcrum of the score as it should be.

So, it seemed that I had a reason to turn my back on what was going on outside the window and only read the exam books. Therefore, it seems that I have a reason to feel dizzy and irritated, and only pour the so-called secret recipe for exam success into my brain.

However, I have to say: No. A person's shoulders are not just for fame and fortune for himself, nor are they just for carrying five buckets of rice for his family, nor are they just for carrying the flowers and flowers of happiness for his relatives and friends.

My shoulders will bear against the haze on the ground and the flying snow in the sky. On my shoulders, we must also learn to bear and defend the truth of the world, the beauty of life, and the kindness of human nature.

Because, I know that the sky may not collapse, but it can rain acid rain; the earth may not collapse, but there can be man-eating unicorns on the ground. I won't listen to such small talk as "if the sky falls, a tall man will hold it up".

No one wants to be tall, and only dwarfs can walk on the ground. If everyone doesn't stand up when they see rats doing evil or wild beasts hurting people, humans will only become beasts and their homes will become pigsties.

Beasts have only one survival principle, teeth come out from the inside. 8. A 600-word essay about the moonlight

The moon, its white figure, is so peaceful and quiet. I have looked back on it in front of my eyes many times. I like it very much because I can speak frankly. I can tell my troubles to it, and I can also express my joy without any scruples.

In the evening, I had nothing to do and was really bored, so I walked alone in the woods behind the school to enjoy the beauty of the night alone. Looking up at the silent night sky, the lovely moon slowly climbed into the sky from behind the treetops, bright and round, like a jade plate. The gentle moonlight pours down like water, as if sliding over a sweet piano sound. Being in such a beautiful moonlight, I couldn't help but think of many descriptions of the moon in ancient poems. Wang Wei, a great poet of the Tang Dynasty, said it well: "The bright moon shines among the pines, and the clear spring flows up the rocks." Can't we do this too? "Raise a glass to the bright moon, and look at each other to form three people." When we are lonely, the moon is our loyal partner. "Look up at the bright moon and lower your head to miss your hometown." The moon is our deep longing for our hometown. "Who first sees the moon by the river, and when does the moon first shine on people?" The moon is our distant speculation on the origin of human beings.

The moon is like the guardian angel of the earth, revolving around the earth every day. It is so loyal, so trustworthy, and so dedicated.

The moon sometimes looks like a magician. Sometimes it is round like a jade plate, sometimes it is bent like a bow, sometimes it is like a small boat, and sometimes it is like an apple bitten by a bug. It is really varied and diverse. When the moon appears in the night sky, it always attracts our attention, stimulates our thinking, and blooms our emotions. It makes us crazy about it, crazy about it, cheering for it, and feeling sad for it. It's not that dazzling, but it's so fascinating. However, when we look up at the bright moon, who will pay attention to the sun behind it that silently gives it bright support? The moon does not originally shine, but the sun seems to be sympathetic to it. When it shines its light towards the moon, the moon has a pure white and faint light.

What is the thing that accompanies you through sweet dreams every day? By the way, it’s still the moon. The moon, it brings me boundless reverie, brings me endless hope, and also takes me into beautiful childhood memories. 9. Composition about moonlight

Do you like the moon? The moon is a beautiful sphere. In the evening, the moon comes out. When the sun shines on it, sometimes it looks like a big round cake, sometimes it looks like a sickle. Whenever people who are far away from home see the moon, they will miss their hometown, family and friends. The great poet Li Bai once wrote: "Raise your head to look at the bright moon, lower your head to think of your hometown." The "moon" is indeed beautiful, but have you ever paid attention to the moonlight? In fact, moonlight will remind everyone of more beautiful things. My classmates all like "frost"! White, spread on the grass, like putting a thick coat on the grass; knotted on the treetops, like putting a beautiful white hat on the tree. These scenes are beautiful, but what should I do if I can’t see frost in summer? Have you ever thought that moonlight is like frost? "There is bright moonlight in front of the bed, and I suspect it is frost on the ground." In this way, people can see frost in summer. I like water very much. I look at the little ripples in the water. They are gentle and soft. The sky is transparent. It is very beautiful. But in winter, the water freezes, and the water at home is like a static object. Without wind, it cannot ripple. But can everyone think about frost again? "The courtyard is as empty as water." In this way, I can watch the water quietly in winter again. Moonlight also has many uses: at night, when you go home late, you are alone on the road, there is no light, it is pitch black, don’t worry, as long as there are no clouds in the sky, the moonlight will shine on you; students who are approaching the high school entrance examination or college entrance examination, because they have to I reviewed a lot of information. Some people wanted to go out to play during the day, but it would be bad if they didn't go. Some people were afraid of people and vehicles coming and going on the street, and there was a lot of noise. So you can’t learn during the day, but if you turn on the light and read at night, you’re afraid of wasting electricity. What should you do? Let me introduce you to reading under the moonlight (when there are no clouds)! It’s quiet and economical, how great! I like moonlight, it brings me a lot of fun, when everyone is free

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Why not try to appreciate the moonlight!