Free verse poetry, mostly fiction, some nonfiction
Bridgewater Triangle, a dark place where evil spirits, cryptids, and aliens dwell
Disembodied voices, feelings of dread, terrifying visions, many fear to enter there
Maybe a vortex of unholy, hellish things from this dimension and others
If ever you choose to go there, don’t be surprised if you feel afraid
To take too many steps in, and if you go too far in, you might never get out.
Bob Boyd
on many crime shows
cases of wives and husbands
one kills the other
Bob Boyd
Cancer and heart failure robbed him
At seventy and six years of perfect health,
His immortality evaporated, illusion exposed
Reduced to an endangered, terminal mortal.
Death sensing the opportunity drooled and circled
Like a ravenous vulture eyeballing vulnerable him.
Resigned to the inevitably of that hungry bird reaper
Consuming his tenuous mortal life someday
Decided he needed roadmaps before
His assisted departure into the Great Beyond.
Remembered NDEs he read in the seventies,
Reread about the Life Review, the White Light,
The Unconditional Love none wanted to leave,
The true home, more real, less dreamlike
Then the earthbound temporary life.
Listened to many NDEs on YouTube,
Heard about the order in the chaos,
Seen by some of the NDErs, clinically dead.
Death became the ultimate awakening.
He wanted to experience the mysteries, the wonders.
Then he read horrible NDEs of atheists, terrified,
thought they were in Hell, demons, hellfire, damnation.
Desperate, tormented, horrified, thought about Christ,
Hoping for help, suspended their hard nosed disbeliefs,
Prayed and pleaded to Christ, saw no other way out.
He heard their contrite prayers, appeared in Light,
Whooshed them out of the fires and torments of Hell.
Returned to life Believers, some became ministers.
The newly minted mortal awed by the validation
Asked Christ to forgive his sins and come into his life.
Full blown Believer miraculously morally enhanced
Looks forward to meeting Christ at the doorway to death.
Bob Boyd
early sun rising
beautiful summer morning
dark clouds overhead
Bob Boyd
Given billions of planets are considered habitable
Believed life had to exist on other planets
Somewhere.
Didn’t believe all the claims of UFO sightings
And numerous abduction claims in the US
Until —
The government came clean and acknowledged
The Existence.
Now the gates of my mind have opened
And torrents of UFO and abduction stories
Pour In.
Tall Whites, Grays, Reptilians, Nordics and more,
Aliens living in the sea, underground, shape shifting,
Mutilating cows, experimenting on humans,
Impregnating young women, collecting human semen,
Colluding with the Government, might be
Advanced human Civilizations time traveling,
Benevolent or malevolent agendas. Does anyone
Know For Sure?
My mind is so flooded, so overwhelmed, with
Theories so vast, I was better off, a simpler life,
Before I put on a tin hat and gave credence
To It All.
Bob Boyd
The clock is ticking. Your life is running out.
Is that important or a thought avoided by you,
Your inescapable, destined demise?
Or most of the time do you fool yourself
Unconsciously feeling like you’ll live forever
Even though sometimes you wake up
And your mortality briefly makes you uneasy
Quickly suppressed, hidden in your mind
Too dreadful a reality to dwell upon.
Till a life threatening medical condition
Invades your body and your anxious mind
And your mortality becomes front and center.
But that possible clock stop can be liberating,
A time for great personal and spiritual growth.
Bob Boyd
big eyes and gray skin
shapeshifts into anything
a gray alien
Bob Boyd
They’d been together 44 years
until at age 70 when
her mind began to slip
and blanked out.
Then it became like
they were no
longer together –
she didn’t know him
anymore.
His heart broke at
her loss of memory,
her loss of self
recognition.
He still loved her, but
she no longer loved him or
knew who he was. Love was not
supposed to be like that.
Bob Boyd
Rasboras, rasboras, why is your species always on the bottom of my aquarium?
Plentiful food carefully scattered on surface of the aquarium, ignored by you.
How do you keep from starving? I never see you eat.
Since you remain alive and don’t get emaciated.
You must, no offense, be bottom feeders subsisting on fallen flakes from the surface table.
But why not go first class and swim to the top and enjoy the full buffet?
In truth, you’re a never ending submerged mystery to me.
Thought you’d be all over the tank like a bright tailed, rambunctious guppy.
You just scurry around barely above the bottom, otherwise you seem to be hiding.
A snail is more fun, a turtle more active. Maybe you’re just shy.
Despite those seeming drawbacks, you have an uncanny appeal.
Your swimming is unconventional, you dart instead of true swimming.
And unlike duller colored fish, you are an attractive strawberry color.
And I must admit in rare moments I do see you dart almost to the surface.
Maybe one of you is an anomaly or a rebel rebelling, who occasionally breaks free.
Fun to watch, cool to see, rasboras, rasboras.
Bob Boyd
Tired of old single women
I’m too old for their nonsense
lack the patience, won’t engage,
better an old monk poet,
and compassionate helper.
Sticking with poetry and Service —
loves of my life, writing poems,
helping people.
Blissful with the right woman,
finding one at my age,
risks of ongoing drama,
tensions, disappointments,
ripples in my unperturbed
tranquility.
I don’t take these women
seriously; some far too
young; some touched me,
as if interested,
means nothing,
foolish girly games
too old to play.
Having a quiet peaceful life.
raising the MGTOW banner
going full monk mode,
maybe better luck in
the afterlife, a soulmate
awaiting me, my heart,
my mind, free of the
old single woman
nonsense here.
Bob Boyd
Leslie had no time for Winston,
His flashy cars, his inheirited wealth, his bragging
His big balance credit cards, his designer clothes,
Meant nothing to her.
Nancy, a different breed,
A keen eye for self-enrichment,
Saw the benefits, the monied life,
Overlooked the negatives, worth the sacrifice.
Leslie married a male social worker,
Who aiding the poor, the disabled, the elderly,
More about Service to others than the money.
They didn’t have the rich trappngs;
They had the true love.
Nancy married Winston, a lavish wedding,
Landed the big fish, mined the gold,
Lived the abundant, material life,
Got everything she wanted …
Except true love.
Bob Boyd
Memories of you
darken my day.
My heart beats like
a dirge inside
my chest.
Never, never
will I
love again.
Bob Boyd
leaves shedding from tree
scattering upon the ground
beautiful blanket
Bob Boyd
the winter is gone
the new season’s warmer weather
leaves me mournful and cold
tears like April showers
rain from my eyes
my girlfriend lies dead
in the Spring ground
Bob Boyd
Consider the theory that aliens are the future us,
A curious evolutionary leap, more so than
Cro-Magnons to our current refined appearances.
Imagine future humans, theorized to look like this:
Reconfigured faces and bodies in a far future,
Larger heads, bigger brains, oval eyes, thinner bodies,
Navigating the past in saucer-shaped time machines.
Perhaps traveling back in time but for what,
An attempt to reshape humanity’s future
Stop a nuclear war that would kill off many of us?
And why so mysterious and obscure?
If the theory is remotely plausible
And speaking of time, maybe, as the saying goes
Time will tell.
Bob Boyd
As I grow older life speeds up as I slow down.
I imagine the planet spinning faster, unfelt by me,
Except for the faster time and my slower life.
Maybe me going slower to stay balanced in
The whirlwind cycles of impatient earth,
I imagine impatient to see another human gone,
A life spun away into an ever lighter corpse,
Less weight for earth to carry.
Another burdensome human gone,
The planet spins on.
Bob Boyd
Aliens in spacecrafts
flying in and
out of the sea
real or utter bunk
credible witnesses
seemingly
but man made
or extraterrestrial
If aliens, grays,
tall whites
reptilians or
little green men?
An agreeable
mystery to me
I’m beginning to
like bizarre
theories and beliefs
Fills a little time
with fascinating
stories and claims
like all these Bigfoot
sightings with no
body alive or dead
and no irrefutable proof.
But back to seagoing
Alien air and sea crafts
Here’s another theory
maybe AI robots
collecting whatever
from the sea and
as unable to communicate
with us as a kid’s
windup toy.
Or maybe they’re
interdimensional.
Bob Boyd
Spoke to one of the post clinically dead
yesterday.
She can’t wait to go back to the Light
and the Love.
I yearn to go there too and experience
the wonders of the Light and the Love
beyond this often unfair, sometimes
dangerous, coin toss life.
Too many things in this impermanent
world I no longer like.
Let me fly to the higher one in a
heavenbound kite.
And bask in the Light of eternal
peace.
To live forever in the unimaginable,
the no one wants to leave it, the
unconditional Love.
Bob Boyd
urban city streets
all over America
infested with drugs
declining country
far cry from its distant past
minus all the drugs
the shootings and the mayhem
mournful modern life
if only we could retrieve
sane days of the past.
Bob Boyd
Suddenly I was here
but where I was before
unknown to me
except I’m told I was
in the womb.
Though this I know;
what I mean is
where was I pre-womb,
a spirit in the astral
fully cognisant of
self?
Or was I am uncreated
self out of nothing
into something?
Or am I and
everything out of
and back into
the eternal Self?
Bob Boyd