A Grasshopper’s Hard Luck Life

by

Scared grasshopper reading book

When you’re a grasshopper
there are millions of predators
that are always hunting you:
over 200 species of birds,
reptiles, other insects, like
spiders and beetles, cats
and dogs and humans too.

And grasshoppers are fried
simmered and roasted in
snacks, flours and breads,
consumed by humans in at
least six countries, USA too.

So being a merrily hopping
grasshopper is no pleasure
cruise with tons of predators
in pursuit of you.

And blessed are you not
having to live a grasshopper’s
hard luck life.

Bob Boyd

Dead Zen and Tang Dynasty Poets

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My friends are dead Zen and Tang Dynasty poets.

When I read them daily, it is like I am hanging
out with them,

and I think to myself who needs any more friends
than these great poets?

Their words, their philosophies, their wisdom,
provide me with all the socialization I need,

far better and more fulfilling than spending my days
listening to the idle chatter of many my age

still in the peopled world.

Bob Boyd

Ikkyu Why Did You Have To ….

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get my attention with this poem of yours:

Beneath the skin of
The one we fondle today,
There is a skeleton,
Propping up the flesh.

Ikkyu

Why couldn’t you have just written something
less graphic, less disturbing?

You could have written something less drastic, like
the woman you are fondling today will be dead someday.

That, though still disturbing, would have been more palatable,
gone down easier.

Now if I ever fondle a woman again, your buzzkill poem
will at some point pop into my mind
and wreck the illusion that I’ll be holding her forever.

Besides, you were supposed to be a freakin’ monk,
not some playboy writing about fondling women.

Ikkyu, if you hadn’t been a monk, I’d say damn you,
but I can’t afford any more bad karma in this life.

So in regard to your disturbing poem I’ll just say,
Ikkyu, why did you have to?

Bob Boyd

Lucky Hall Gangster Lean

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In his misspent, wasted youth
Sitting, profiling, in a pool hall,
Hard eyes, looking tough to fit in.
Often skipped days of school,
Had no time for education
In a small city in Massachusetts.

Inhaling a Lucky Strike cigarette,
Exhaling smoky circles in the air
Unfiltered, only manly way to go,
Greaser haircut, thought he was cool,
Thought he was super tough.

Cue ball breaking a rack to pieces,
Clatter of numbered balls
Speeding all over the pool table
Bouncing off the banks
Thudding sounds erupting
Some high and low balls
Dropping into the table pockets.

Cigarettes thrown in spittoons.
Hissing sounds when hitting the water.
Guys swearing over missed shots,
Losing serious betting money,
Some gangsters in the making.

Like Lucky Hall, 6’6” lean machine
Gangster mean and crazy as hell,
Always dressed in black.

Strolled over to him and
As he was taking a drag
On his unfiltered cigarette,
Lucky stuck a gun in his face.
He sat casually in a chair,
Pool stick in hand, unfazed,
Guns rarely seen back then.

He smiled and reached for the gun,
And said to Lucky, “Is that real?”
Not out of bravely was he unafraid,
Couldn’t believe the gun was real.

His nonchalance didn’t get the result
Lucky was looking for.
Lucky turned away, his black trench coat
Swirling in the smoky air,
Lucky looking gangster cool,
Dangerous, and genuine.

Two years later Lucky’s luck ran out.
Shot to death in faraway Alabama.
Probably put his gun in the wrong guy’s face.

Bob Boyd

Come Father Winter & Jack Frost

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Man standing defiantly in raging blizzard

Winter is coming. Spring has passed.
Fall is languishing. And I’m looking
forward to the challenges of
the cold and freezing weather.
I’ve got my fortifications in place,
sealed windows, a sleeping bag,
plenty of blankets, layered clothing,
and fire-proof space heaters.
So come Father Winter & Jack Frost,
bring the best you’ve got. I’m more
than ready for you and looking
forward to the cold and ice you bring.

Bob Boyd

Too Many Women and Girls Get Murdered in This World

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It breaks my heart to know that too many women
and girls get murdered in this world,

approximately 83,000 worldwide yearly, and, if there’s
a loving Creator, I have to wonder why this

abominable femicide is allowed to go on. You could say
God gives us free will, but I see no free will for the

women and girls slaughtered. And fuck you to all the
human monsters that murder them.

I hope and pray when these murdered women and girls die,
they go to a glorious place where it won’t matter

how they went out of this world, and the horrors
they suffered won’t even be a memory.

Bob Boyd

Buzz-killed Night with a Pretty Redhead in My Teen Years

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Teenage boy disappointed on double date

I remember having sort of a double date,
me with you, your red hair like a holy grail to me.

We were in the backseat of my friend’s car,
and I felt lucky to be with you.

We kissed for a while, and you pulled away
without saying a word. Why? I know not.

Annoyed, disappointed, I said nothing –
for the rest of the time you and I were

stranded in the back seat of that pine-scented car.
And I don’t remember the rest of that evening,

except my dream of having a red-haired
woman for a girlfriend or a wife

was buzz-killed that night.

Bob Boyd

Ch’in Chia’s Departure from His Wife (Translated by Arthur Waley)

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CH’IN CHIA
Ch’in Chia (first century a.d.) was summoned to take up an appointment at the capital at a time when his wife was ill and staying with her parents. He was therefore unable to say goodbye to her, and sent her three poems instead. This is the last of the three.

Solemn, solemn the coachman gets ready to go:
“Chiang, chiang” the harness bells ring.
At break of dawn I must start on my long journey:
At cock-crow I must gird on my belt.
I turn back and look at the empty room:
For a moment I almost think I see you there.
One parting, but ten thousand regrets:
As I take my seat, my heart is unquiet.
What shall I do to tell you all my thoughts?
How can I let you know of all my love?
Precious hairpins make the head to shine
And bright mirrors can reflect beauty.
Fragrant herbs banish evil smells
And the scholar’s harp has a clear note.
The man in the Book of Odes[18] who was given a quince
Wanted to pay it back with diamonds and rubies.
When I think of all the things you have done for me,
How ashamed I am to have done so little for you!
Although I know that it is a poor return,
All I can give you is this description of my feelings.

Parting from Su Wu by Li Long (Translated by Arthur Waley)

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The good time will never come back again:
In a moment,—our parting will be over.
Anxiously—we halt at the road-side,
Hesitating—we embrace where the fields begin.
The clouds above are floating across the sky:
Swiftly, swiftly passing: or blending together.
The waves in the wind lose their fixed place
And are rolled away each to a corner of Heaven.
From now onwards—long must be our parting.
So let us stop again for a little while.
I wish I could ride on the wings of the morning wind
And go with you right to your journey’s end.

Po Chü-i (Translations by Arthur Waley)

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(A.D. 772-846)
Po Chü-i was born at T’ai-yüan in Shansi. Most of his childhood was spent at Jung-yang in Honan. His father was a second-class Assistant Department Magistrate. He tells us that his family was poor and often in difficulties.
He seems to have settled permanently at Ch’ang-an in 801. This town, lying near the north-west frontier, was the political capital of the Empire. In its situation it somewhat resembled Madrid. Lo-yang, the Eastern city, owing to its milder climate and more accessible position, became, like Seville in Spain, a kind of social capital.
Soon afterwards he met Yüan Chēn, then aged twenty-two, who was destined to play so important a part in his life. Five years later, during a temporary absence from the city, he addressed to Yüan the following poem:

Since I left my home to seek official state
Seven years I have lived in Ch’ang-an.
What have I gained? Only you, Yüan;
So hard it is to bind friendships fast.
We have roamed on horseback under the flowering trees;
We have walked in the snow and warmed our hearts with wine. We have met and parted at the Western Gate
And neither of us bothered to put on Cap or Belt.
We did not go up together for Examination;
We were not serving in the same Department of State.

Releasing a Captive Crane by Po Chü-i (Translated by Arthur Waley)

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The master of the house has a crane in a cage;
For long years it has looked out through the bars.
It remembers the high flights among the clouds;
It hates the narrow space of the wooden cage.

I came by and took pity on its captive state;
I broke the lock and let it fly away.
It flapped its wings and soared into the sky;
It did not look back at its old master’s house.
Now it flies over the peaks of the southern mountains,
Free at last from the burdens of the earth

To a Cow I’ll Call Betsy

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Cow with peaceful eyes looking at me

We met in New Hampshire.
You were in a fenced in pasture.
I was on the other side of the fence.
You saw me looking at you
and sauntered over to me.
You looked into my eyes;
I looked into your eyes,
And I had an unexpected contact high.
I felt we had cow to human simpatico.
I felt such peace that I wanted to
stay in that peaceful state forever.
But I was with some friends,
and we had to resume our trip
from our homes in Massachusetts
to deeper into New Hampshire.
And as I walked away looking back at you,
you intoned a long mooooooo as if to say goodbye

And I’ll never forget this cow I’ll call Betsy.

Bob Boyd

For You Wherever You Are

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I always hoped we would meet
again someday

I wasn’t carrying the torch
I just wondered how your life went

and I wanted to let you how mine went
as well

but when I did a search for you
I learned you died of cancer at age 71

but I also saw that you had been married
and had two daughters

and I was happy for you

and wherever you are I wish you well
and hope you are happy

and in a glorious place

Bob Boyd

Insects That Walks on Water

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Insect walking on water

Insects a half-inch long,
thin bodies,
three sets of legs,
tiny hairs on legs,
that repel water,
enabling them to
walk, more correctly,
stride, on water.

They’re innocent-
looking insects
but watch out if
you’re a dragonfly.

If you or other
insects fall in the
water, they’ll grab
you and suck the
life out of you.

Water Striders is
their name.

Bob Boyd

People Missing in Boulder Fields

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Entity inside big boulder

According to David Paulides, many
people have vanished near boulder fields.
I listened to Paulides last night on the
radio show Coast to Coast. He said some
people told him that entities lived in those
big stone boulders, which makes me
wonder if there are entities really living
in those boulders that are somehow
snatching people into those boulders,
maybe into some other dimension.

Maybe entities massive and fast enough
to snatch a person before that person
could scream or make a sound.

Of course, it sounds like bunk, but the
many people who go missing without
a trace, or anything traceable, make
one wonder if something paranormal
is responsible for these missing 411s.

No tracks. No scents search dogs can
follow. Just gone from this world and
never found or heard from again.

Bob Boyd

Sea-Monkeys

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They were advertised in comic books
humanoid-looking creatures that vaguely
resembled weird looking monkeys that
you ordered through the mail. When you
received them, you got a packet you
poured into to water and presto! they
hatched from dried eggs in the packet.
But instead of those humanoid-looking
creatures, you got brine shrimp. You
could say it was a rip off, but it was
still a lot of fun and worth the cost.
I write this from experience; I had
a bunch of Sea-Monkeys in the past.

Bob Boyd

Etched in Some Peoples’ Bad Memories

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In an epiphany, he realized he
was etched in some peoples’

bad memories

and that some people
were etched in his bad memories

and he hoped their bad memories
of him

and his bad memories
of them

would be of no significance
when they and he

died

Bob Boyd

The Cute Stray Evil Kitty

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Expressionism vampire kitty

She liked fresh young women
any blood type would do
she picked young women
she felt them more feline
better suited for her dark purposes
she’d lure them to her
with her squeaky meowing
cute stray kitty persona
they’d coo and ah over her
and give her a good home
but when the house lights
were turned off and
the night set in she’d
silently hop onto their beds
fangs in their jugulars
drain their fresh bodies
of their invigorating blood
Vampire Kitty!

Bob Boyd

Moonlit Killers

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Killers stalking woman in black cape

The night was summer warm
two killers’ hearts were cold
the moon was glowing full
they were looking for a kill
they spied a young woman
a soft and easy target
for their moonlit bloodlust
they stalked her silently
their footsteps unheard
except by the young woman
with her extrasensory hearing
when they were almost upon her
she howled to the moon
her fangs and claws came out
and she ripped the would be
predators into bloody pieces

Bob Boyd