Short Autobiography Poems

lifelong friendship vow
grabbed  autobiography
found just a mention....

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A laughing wolf stares
at sheep that do not gather
they are dangerous....

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A single drop of clarity.
Fear not truth’s asperity.
Following your intuition,
turn, behold, a new direction....

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She
                                  scribbles on the sands
                                  a shipwrecked autobiography...

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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...

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Rosa took a stand 
by taking a seat :)
making a strong point
with dignity sweet :D



 [I read her autobiography for Black History Month; always admired her, but a big fan of her now!]
...

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Eliabeth Vigee-Lebrun
penned  autobiography ,read by some
Portraitist * of the fasionable,she met
including one Marie-Antoinette 

*https://www.wikiart.org/en/louise-elisabeth-vigee-le-brun/portrait-of-a-young-woman...

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Can we just get gw to write real poetry
    instead of all that over-politicized trash ...
 
  Well frankly, my friends, 'frilly poetry's' nearly starved me to death
    so, here's another piece of trash with my very last breath...

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The photo I take of you
Does not capture you
Or define you
It is a colored shard
Of the stained glass window
You are becoming

The poem you write
Is not your autobiography
So much as it is
A bread crumb
Helping you find 
Your way back
To who you once
Were...

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I am reading your autobiography, the encyclopedia of you
  yet I remain a student of your sclera
     a pupil of your pupils
       a Vincent of your irises


An excerpt from the poem "A Strange Galaxy" submitted to the 
Liberum Divisa 8 Poetry Contest
Today's date: 16 Nov 2021...

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The agate loves a festive atmosphere; 
it’s bon of elements and minerals.

A happy stone, reflects all life; 
is a canvas for the great artist; 
it holds the stories of Mother Earth’s life; 
her autobiography.

Wear agate and you share Earth’s secrets.
...

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Politics – too controversial 
  Religion – irreversible

Steamy-hot Romance – too fraught
  Criminality – don’t wanna get caught

Photography – too much fornography
  Alcohol and Drugs – Gulp! My autobiography

What’s left to write about at this late hour
   ~ Blooms and blossoms, fragrance and flowers...

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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....

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In class five the studies was going on for local scholarship
After exam I was seized by love for a girl thru friendship
Second I was in prize but left me alone she went to Dhaka
In merit list I was always as usual in the institutional data
At the end I was continuing in that institute for studentship 

©Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
17/01/2023...

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To discard past experiences
that serve me not,
and finding wistful grace
that more love in my heart 
enchants those I do,
 
then open fresh of  pages 
within this autobiography,
joy from random magnanimity---

untiring compassion
perhaps selfless,

to nourish trees of unplucked affection



04.17.2018
April Contest hosted by Brian Strand...

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Thoughts of prey
Heavy with mountains of anticipation
Free fall from the top
Into the vacuum
Settle among guilt lined clouds
 
My mind’s eye sees the hawk’s wings backlit
By light from branches streaked with blood
Don’t disappoint authority
Of dominance realized
 
I wrote a book about my life
When opened
A single hair
Grew from the first page...

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life takes many forms
many shapes and sizes
choose the one fits you the best
make this judgement not in 
haste
whether in slums
or in palace
whether in BMW 
or in auto
whether your clothes are 
branded
or not
matters a trifle.

if you born poor
not your mistake
if you die poor, 
certainly
your mistake.

life has twists and turns
nothing back returns
thus prison your precious life
in an autobiography....

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Cultivation of distressful life was starting in our family after the cyclone
No shelter we found except a crushed hamlet on far dale with full alone
On the next year we’re moved to hill tracts for probing of best living fate
Through a little job my father cared us with his loving effort to be settled
The year nineteen ninety two was my first year of institutional learning rail

©Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
07/11/2022...

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I walk down the hall
I am trampled by students
	Broken confidence
	Broken heart


	I walk down the same hall
          I see the students
	Still I am trampled
	Blacked eye 
	Broken leg

	I walk down the very same hall
	There are more students 
	I walk right into them
	Shattered bone 
	Shattered life

	I walk down the hall
There are even more students
I move to the side


I walk to class





Shavon Lewis...

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I am blind.
 Poems only can find.
 See Beauty of poetry.
Most of my thyme of poetry is my life history.
Can not say it is autobiography.
But my poetry keeps mythology.
 Try to keep Charity and prosperity.
Find only readers poetry.
Poetry is my wife.
Wherein keeps only wonderful beauty.
I am blind
 But blind is not my mind.
Poetry is now my wonderful tree.
Where my flowers, leafs and skin are to be gifted to readers free.
Saroj khan[sakha]...

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Look at this poppy-seed bread:
Black stars in a white sky,
Outside, an aloe plant rustles in the wind,
As out of place as dead people whispering.
I am not planning to die, however
Will they write my autobiography,
Listening to Fall Out Boy's 'Centuries'
Remember me...
For small recollections
Of a day-time moon,
This hot-cross bun blazoned across a handful
Of wayward seasons.
And I am not making any promises,
But this side of having a cold, far out stars
Are inextinguishable....

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The first time I saw you
I was a child watching Roots.
No knowledge of the poetry
or autobiography pursuits.

The first poem I heard by you
was "And Still I Rise'.
As a young adult  in search of
purpose it came as no surprise.

With every interview, book,
and poem I could take in.
In an odd and distant way,
you became teacher and friend.

Several chances I had to meet you,
but I was always too afraid.
Because of you and some others too
My love for poetry will never be swayed....

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