Best Autobiography Poems
I am a Banyan tree,
More than hundred years old,
Near a beautiful lake I stand,
In the heart of Mother Nature.
During my life span I have seen,
Days both good and bad,
I have experienced the strong forces of nature,
Surviving them courageously.
I have grown tall and strong,
By drawing nutrients from the guardian soil,
Soaking in the moist rainwater,
Bathing in the holy sunlight.
I have made some good friends who have,
Explored my heart,
Cheered up my soul,
And brightened my days.
One of my good pals is the lake,
Who has added meaning to my life,
A kinship has developed between us,
From him I have learnt the value of stillness.
I remember you well the nightingale.
You lived in a hole made in my trunk,
Many a time you have sung your melodious lyrics to me,
Providing relief to my aching heart.
I love breezy nights the most,
With the moon shining brightly in the sky,
The divided clouds passing by the moon,
And every instrument of nature showing an aura of magic!
My branches begin to dance,
My spirit awakens,
My soul becomes alive,
On hearing the hymning influences of the wind.
The Earth is a heavenly place,
The Nature is its heart,
With its mystic charms and wonders,
Has shown me a world next to impossible!
Oh god! Thanks for granting me a blessed life,
This life I have enjoyed to the fullest,
I hope I have satisfied you,
By playing my role in this universe sincerely. :)
Draped in blooming green,
Colored with a rosy beak,
Blessed with wings free as air,
With crazy dreams of naughty playfulness,
A carefree young parrot I am,
Taking refuge in prospering wilderness.
The forest is my abode,
Never failing to amaze me with its overflowing abundance,
Where rich tress grow in ample,
Gifted with content flowers and melodious fruits
And where birds and animals turn on the mysterious charm,
Letting creative forces smile gently.
The sky is my best friend,
Who embraces me with tenderness.
Our souls have merged into one,
She treats me as her child,
I have slowly grown familiar with her,
Experiencing ecstatic aliveness in her presence.
Woven with the shine of the caring sun,
Along with my fellow parrots
I soar high in the sky,
Taking the form of a military group
We encircle the horizon
With deep sincerity.
I frequently visit vineyards,
Where vines are laden with overgrown grapes and strawberries.
They kiss the earth in gratitude,
Rejoicing at her homely delight.
I feast on these juicy fruits
Like a new born prince.
At Night time I stay still in my nest
And keep staring at the bright stars.
At that moment I am reminded of something,
Dreams of naughty playfulness come running to me
And start mingling with me making me jump out of sheer joy.
Yes I do feel like a carefree young parrot then.
With each passing day I am born again,
Providing me the strength to become more carefree.
Freedom is welcoming me with grace,
Encouraging me to be loving,
Helping me to be myself
And I have decided to dance through the tune of life.
Hello! We are a pair of eyes,
gifted to a human so nice.
To express our peaceful cries,
a poet, on our behalves, hereby tries.
Above the tongue which seldom lies,
below the brain which thinks wise,
with an oval shape and small size,
we see the guise and the disguise.
Our eyelids blink when tensions rise,
eyelashes prohibit the dust that flies,
with eyebrows, the face also beautifies,
our morphology looks concise.
Seeing light, the pupil shies,
the lens can minimize and maximize,
on retina, image forms of different size,
our physiology is very precise.
A few disorders we list in concise,
myopia produces bills before eyes,
night blindness disturbs after moonrise,
cataract warns after grey hair arise.
We request the humans with eyes,
for good vision, give us exercise,
after death, do donate your eyes, and
feel the tears when a human cries.
I am a party animal, my heritage is mixed
quite content to lounge about when conditions remain fixed.
Suppose that’s the nobility which Krypton must provide,
maintaining stiff upper lip when I’m all buzzed inside.
Then too, I’m mostly nitrogen, which is very stable,
tamping volatility of oxygen: it’s able
to combine with hydrogen (that’s also in my make up).
Uncontrolled? Oh that would lead to an explosive break up.
Carbon Dioxide? Its percentage varies night and day:
vegetative respiration, or so the boffins say.
I wonder why I don’t glow multicoloured in a storm:
my neon, argon, radon being Vegas lighting norm.
If I had more Helium the humans would sound squeaky.
I imagine the attraction of that chap Enrique
Would suffer greatly from affliction. He’d become mundane,
and prove downright offensive if I gave him more methane.
I’ve also Nitrogen Oxide, not Nitrous NO2,
and a soupçon of ozone which had once protected you
from harmful rays from Out There much more than now is measured.
It seems that humans cannot see what really should be treasured.
I’m moved by friction of the Earth and pressure off the bat
while Coriolis effect pushes me this way and that:
north and south of the equator, the opposite I spin.
Any other speculations, my friends, are simply wind.
A poet is often bombarded by the meaning of words
He got to have a physical relationship with language
With the structural elements like couplets and stanzas
Using imagery, rhymes of myriad emotions to manage.
Language and structure with imagination and expression
In my veins like an unfertilized egg I need to feel poetry,
With traffic-jammed in my thought-polluted brain session
I strip teased my desire that breathes into the oral cavity.
The things touched with love will surely have a voice
Touch the strings of a violin, feel how music is created
Strong wind creates lyrical sound among trees to rejoice
At the mere touch of love, every poet gets mused.
Poetry is words in best order, best words in best order
It is language at its most distilled and most powerful
There is no denying, poetry says more in words fewer,
If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash cool.
It is indeed a spontaneous over flow of powerful feelings
Taking its origin from emotions recollected in tranquility
Boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions
Held together by soft, tough skin of words of quality.
One can’t give order to a person to write a poem instant
As much as command birth of a child to woman pregnant.
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Fourth Place winner in
Contest: Poetry Panorama by Linda-marie, the sweetheart
A laughing wolf stares
at sheep that do not gather
they are dangerous.
A single drop of clarity.
Fear not truth’s asperity.
Following your intuition,
turn, behold, a new direction.
'Autobiography' little
about me.
Whenever I recall my
infant years
Which I spent on
dumping
grounds
When daddy stabbed
mum's heart
-with an unhonored
divorce
In those sunny days
Before i began to
cling
on adult's
wings
'I laughed then I
cried'
Just to give the
earth-
What it
demands
I tossed around with
my red pant
In a circular direction
Under the roof of
the
frigthened
sun
There I was, to feel
the
innocent
world
My mum cried and
cried,
All because her heart
was left
uncovered
O I must cry too,
Because her breast
was
dried in
suffering
When our kinsmen
reject us
Mosquitoes came in
the
night
To give us a bitter
sound of relief
Then Suffering
comforted us with
his hunger
What goes into our
mouths
-Never passes
through
our anus
because our bellies
were not
satisfied
Let me pause a while
and mourn
my twin-sister
Our rivers both
flooded
the same
stream
But she has now
diverged to the
sea i never taste
Kehinde! when
would i
see thy
face again?
Here also, to die, is
better than to
live
When would lightning
flash and
-take the
photograph of
our
wearied souls
To the throne of
mercy
To start again our
world in
sweetness
My people!
Daddy is back again
from the lake
of lust
To cover my mum's
heart with
urgent harmony
Should we receive
him
again
-or reject his offer?
Because now our
hearts
are filled
with sugar.
Adesitimi Taiwo
Nigeria.
Pet's Autobiography
I don't mean to be rude:
To adore gods is good,
To adore dogs is better-
So, let me off the fetter!
01st Sept' 2013
I wandered the Vale and Harvington,
A singin' me songs with passion,
Back then I liked to live frugally,
But me melodies were never on ration!
One evening whilst singing in Banbury,
The Police pulled up in their car,
Out stepped a tall copper
I'm in trouble now proper!
But he wanted to play my guitar!
I wandered around the city streets
I roamed away so far,
With stories of women and nights suppin' ale
And a kippin' in the back o' me car!
I sang in the pubs of Evesham,
I felt like the star of the show,
But the very next day I'd be rockin away,
It's that busker again Trevor Yeo!
She
scribbles on the sands
a shipwrecked autobiography
every day- wake up.
smoke before the thoughts of you wake up.
drink my coffee on the couch.
pour an extra cup for you.
end up drinking both- i am wired.
i have to stay so focused
on doing my own thing.
focus too hard and crumble.
i can still smell your skin on my sheets.
i want to lay in bed all day,
get high until you float away.
i feel it all at once,
and then nothing at all.
missed my doctors appointment
because you were supposed to go with me.
everywhere i go
you were supposed to go with me.
now i'm doing it alone
with you half way down the globe.
i pray that i can sustain my love,
although time has never made me warmer.
finding ourselves here
awareness self-aware
ensouling form feeble
sensory touch external
our lower mind stirring
found ego urges rising
oft against conscience
throttling our innocence
reinforcing this torture
veiling love hues subtler
until we became dead
going where desires led
in cyclic joy and sorrow
fearful of the morrow
anchored in narrowness
living in stuporousness
over time we did realise
that love never does size
playful non-judgmental
ever vibrant and amiable
aglow moment to moment
in joy without abatement
continuum heart centric
imbibing currents eclectic
simply flowing like breeze
we embrace and release
when thoughts disappear
as waves of bliss spear
magically and osmotically
vivifying form beauteously
representing flow of life
devoid of ego borne strife
getting to this recognition
we opt for polarity rotation
resting thought fragmented
identity driven and limited
releasing flow of attention
in vibrant void of cessation
wherein in childlike trust go
wherever winds of love blow
with no trace of expectation
as also sense of anticipation
welcoming offered surprise
there being no ego to apprise
whereupon one with universe
aligned with the divine verse
thus in but not of this world
innate blissfulness unfurled
choosing to abide in silence
we rekindle loving innocence
as Gods essence boundless
ever entwined with oneness
this earth is our play centre
where in joy we may canter
mind body but an interface
being breathed by His grace
thus no doing need be done
save exiting ego stagnation
fixated not at any coordinate
tranquil in stillness sedate
melding head with our heart
with all one and none apart
is-ness of being-ness bliss
Gods hand continues to bless
05-March-2021
I was once an actor,
But the lawyer came.
I was a fighter, too,
But the referee came.
They chased me throughout the forest.
They kidnapped me from the wilderness.
I was stripped to skin.
I faced death.
Now I am fenced
within the prison of helotry.
Now I cluster with the billions ---
Fenced within the prison of helotry.