Earning the Title of “Chef Poet”
    Song Chengbao was born in August 1978 into a rural family in a remote area of Shandong Province. From a young age, he was deeply influenced by his grandfather's passion for reading, developing an insatiable love for books.
 
    During his junior high school years, he particularly enjoyed listening to his teachers explain beautiful passages in class. After graduating, he moved to Beijing to work, becoming a “Beijing drifter.” Even while working in Beijing, he never forgot his love for reading, frequently visiting bookstores and libraries such as the Xidan Book Tower and the Wangfujing Book Tower to immerse himself in literature, which further deepened his passion for the written word.
 
    In 2000, Song Chengbao returned to his hometown to start a business. During his time there, he was constantly exposed to traditional folk culture, which cultivated his love for Chinese traditional culture and his sense of belonging to his hometown.
 
    In 2006, by chance, Song Chengbao obtained an opportunity to work at the Chinese Academy of Opera. The rich cultural atmosphere on campus sparked the initial seeds of his creative thinking, and he began to experiment with poetry.
In 2007, Song Chengbao returned to his hometown. After experiencing a rich life, he developed a particular fondness for the works of Fang Wenshan and began to formally create poetry.
 
    In 2016, Song Chengbao, harboring a dream of becoming a host, moved south to Zhejiang and worked in the canteen of Zhejiang University of Media and Communications. During this period, he read extensively and accumulated a wealth of literary knowledge. Although he ultimately did not realize his dream of becoming a host, his passion for poetry surged.
 
    In 2018, Song Chengbao joined Hangzhou Wenyu Education Development Co., Ltd., where he worked at the catering service center—the restaurant. During this period, his rich life experiences and the deep literary knowledge accumulated through years of reading enabled him to create more high-quality poems, which were published multiple times in school journals and other publications. He was affectionately referred to as the “chef poet.”
 
Posting Poetry · Putting Down the Phone
    To date, Song Chengbao has written over a thousand complete poems, primarily documenting his life, travels, emotions, and philosophical reflections.
 
    Since 2018, he has joined the Beijing Pici Village Literature Group's WeChat group. Whenever inspired, he writes poems and shares them in the group, where members provide feedback and support one another.
 
    Qiu Mingdan, a first-year student at the School of Economics of Hangzhou University of Electronic Science and Technology, was reading poems while waiting in line. One of them, “Things Your Phone Won't Tell You,” deeply moved her. “Listen with your heart, calm your mind, hold the pen tip, let the story touch you, swallows return, the wooden door welcomes, a gentle breeze passes, the brightest star, falling leaves in the air, thoughts turn red, a sunny day in winter, warm wine and candlelight.”
 
    Qiu Mingdan said, “Most people spend their spare time playing with their phones. Song Chengbao, with a poet's unique sensitivity, reminds us not to miss the touching moments in life.”
 
    Dong Lijie, a second-year student in the School of Mechanical Engineering at Hangzhou University of Electronic Science and Technology, was waiting in line at a restaurant when he spotted “Song Chengbao's Poems” in the window, five people ahead of him. He put down his phone and read it carefully. As an engineering student who doesn't usually read poetry, he said that Song Chengbao's thoughtful documentation of life and concern for society show that he is spiritually rich.
 
    “Actually, as an engineering student, one should still have some compassion for others and care about ordinary workers.”
 
    The cafeteria chef suddenly became a campus sensation, with students lining up to take photos with him.
 
    To fulfill Song Chengbao's dream of being a “chef poet,” his coworkers helped him “publish” his works at the food-serving window.
 
    Although he has written thousands of poems, as an ordinary chef, publishing a poetry collection remains a distant dream.
 
    To help him fulfill his dream, the restaurant manager came up with the idea of displaying his poems at the food window. After consulting with 12 cafeteria staff members, the “chef poet's” poems finally had the opportunity to be “published.”
“Over 5,000 people eat here every day,” said Jiang Jianyang, manager of a dining hall in the residential area of Hangzhou University of Electronic Science and Technology. "Out of goodwill, the chefs printed out Song Chengbao's poems and posted them on the dozens of display windows where meals are served. Using this unique method to ‘publish’ Song Chengbao's poems, if we assume that 50% of the students waiting in line can see his poems, over 2,500 faculty and students would read them each day. Being able to participate in such a heartwarming initiative, I feel proud.”
 
    “No matter what, if you love reading and writing like Song Chengbao, life will be fulfilling. Usually, everyone plays with their phones in their free time, but the more you play, the more boring it becomes.”
 
Things your phone won't tell you
    In an era where almost everyone's life has become “phone-obsessed,” Chengbao, as an ordinary member of this era, is no exception and often cannot live without his phone. However, what sets him apart from most “ordinary people” is his unique sensitivity, experience, and vigilance toward this “smartphone-obsessed” lifestyle, which he has transformed into poetry. It is precisely this sensitivity that makes him acutely aware that there are many “things smartphones won't tell you” in our lives and in this world:
 
Don't miss the beauty of flowers blooming, take shelter under an eave during a rain shower, or the secret of stars twinkling in the sky.
 
The gentle breeze, the fruits on the trees, and the pure, gentle earth
 
Don't miss the moment when snowflakes land on your body or the warmth of a burning fire.
 
These are things we must experience firsthand, away from our phones.
 
For this reason, we must sometimes “put down our phones”:
 
Look up, shake hands, give a hug, greet someone, look ahead, and take big steps.
 
The tip of the pen is elegant, the words are profound, the scent of books fills the study, gently unfolding the scroll, dyeing autumn red, and the sound lingers.
 
Write a poem.
 
After putting down the phone for a while, I discovered that writing a poem isn’t that difficult. Holding hands and strolling by the sea, chatting, the waves crashing one after another—it’s time to confess.
 
Or even to “leave your phone behind”:
 
Flowers bloom and fade—don't miss them.
 
The warmth and cold of human life touch the heart.
 
Leaving your phone behind is so carefree.
 
The scent of nails lingers on the pages.
 
We cannot let our lives—or even our very existence—become like “shifting sand”:
 
You control your phone.
 
Your phone controls you.
 
You grasp a handful of sand.
 
The sand falls to the ground.
 

---