Biography
The wind blew hard last night
the bedroom window was open I was too lazy
to get up and close it.
I was thinking of writing my biography but found
my life was too tedious to write about it,
Anyway I have only come alive for the last thirty years
before that, I lived in a bubble of self-loathing,
Of course, I could have written about my many illnesses
but I dislike self-pity.
I used to be a seafarer and remember vaguely how bored
it made me after ten years; sea life is for losers.
I could have written about women there has been a few, but most of my affairs were insignificant, sex has no purpose if love is not involved.
I finally got up found a blanket and slept till nine.
Self-biography is mostly self-serving, and we only remember
the right part and our pretension.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I have only come alive for the last thirty years before that, I lived in a bubble of self-loathing, has no purpose if love is not involved. great realizations of life truly written.. thank u dear poet. tony