Month: February 2024

A Confused Mix

Creation is a confused mix to me.
Dinosaurs before humans?
And dinosaurs had to die,
and humans 66 million years
later? Why, why, why?

Why not humans first omitting
what might have been an impressive
but earthly mistake? Dinos, a
gargantuan mistake erased and
replaced with fresh start primitive
grunting homo sapiens?

With untold numbers and species
of dinos canceled like Creator’s
temporary humongous Tonka Toys,
boring compared to more bells and
whistles humans with greater growth
potential.

Yet still less fun weird prehistoric-
looking stuff floating around ocean’s floor.
and boring single-celled Protozoa.
What’s the point of the single-celled?
And some can mess with the health
of humans. Think about it. What the
hell’s the point of that and them?

And damn Sam illiterate humans
like Cro-Magnons before Christ
became the only ticket to escape
this confused mix and not go
somewhere worse when expired.
Were the Cro-Magnons divinely
screwed evaporating into
nothingness with the dinos?

Or too early born fated to reincarnate
exhaustively over and over and over
endless roulette wheel of coming and
going spins until by luck or merit they
win the prize of saving grace?

Maybe Buddha and Krishna had it
right? Dinos, humans, and everything
in the weird mix reincarnating until enough
evolved rebirth free super liberated humans
like Buddha, Krishna, and Christ. Maybe
all a bunch of random hooey. Out of
nothing back into nothing, and
that’s the wrap.

Bob Boyd

Full Moon Night Fights

Like a werewolf, Phil went crazy
on full moon nights seeking fights
he prowled bars hard eying male patrons
goading them into anything goes fist fights,
which he always won, as if the powered up
moonbeams made him unstoppable, like a
lycanthropic creature of the night.

Foolishly, a humped back old man,
bent with age, picked a fight with Phil,
who told the foolish, probably drunk,
geezer he’d get killed fighting him,
a younger, stronger man who never lost
a fight. The old man insanely confident
or with a death wish, called Phil a
lowlife coward. With that insult, Phil
had no choice but to set the old fogey
straight and show him the folly of
fighting an unbeatable foe half his age.

The cocky old man set the terms; in the
alley behind the bar they were to fight
under the moon’s full bright light.
Seconds after they strode into the
alley, an unmanly scream shrieked
through the night, preceding an eerie
silence. Then an unholy howl sounding like
something out of hell, echoed in
the alley and shattered the silence,
terrifying all who heard it. And Phil
never made it out of that alley,
his corpse bloodied and in shreds.

Bob Boyd

Teenagers Working Out In 1962

New 200 lbs set of weights
A barn to work out in
Skinny kids pumping up
Presses, curls, squats
Eating soy protein pills
Big muscles guaranteed
Getting stronger
Working out longer
To look like Steve Reeves
Played Hercules in movies
Had the envied physique
Only had to follow
Steve’s workout routine
To get as big and as
Muscular as him
We didn’t know about
Genetics back then.

Bob Boyd

Satguru

Monklike saffron robed
seated full lotus position
sandalwood incense steaming
after pranayamas
and mantra chants
contemplating cosmos
seeking nirvana
basking in transcendental
bliss and peace profound
alleged saint among saints
sinless, renown Satguru
except for hidden dalliances
with adoring female disciples
obeying his every utterance
catering to his every whim
conned into believing tawdry
tantra sex sessions erase
mountains of bad karma
guarantee full liberation
from the wheel of rebirth
in their lifetimes.

Bob Boyd

A Psychopathic Murderer

The many days a psychopathic murderer
spent time in solitary imaging he
was floating on a boat to exotic shores
sailed him away from the deleterious effects
of the dark and dank Isolation.

But his sailing didn’t erase his crime
of murder he got away with in 1983
in a small city, Woburn, Massachusetts,
under the cover of a moonless night
when he slew a solid citizen, a do the
right thing young man, in an impending case
against a quasi hometown gang of
Mafia wannabes accused of grand theft.

During that time, a better killer than
a thief, the psychopath got five years
in prison for a botched armed robbery
and did time in solitary for bludgeoning
another prisoner’s face in, with a
makeshift iron club.

Ironically a day after he was released
from prison, under the cover
of a moonless night, an angry-eyed
mother of the young man he killed
blew his life away in a vengeful shotgun
blast in downtown Woburn, Massachusetts.

Surprisingly, perhaps justifiably,
never a suspect in the homicide,
not even a person of interest
a sunday school teacher,
prim and proper wife of a judge,
sailed away scot free and uncharged.

Bob Boyd

Brother Andre, The Miracle Saint of Montreal

At Saint Joseph’s Oratory in Montreal, Canada
Brother Andre, a Canadian Saint is entombed.

Humble doorkeeper, a brother not a priest
least likely to be used by God, perhaps
the last being first, became a miracle worker
healed ailing supplicants from all over the world,
the power of his supercharged prayers and
unceasing devotion to Saint Joseph.

Never took credit for healing 10,000 or more
so humble, so devout, so saintly was he.

When he died, a million people streamed past his coffin
in reverence to this humble, God-blessed healing saint.
His mortal remains lie in the coffin at the back of the oratory
in a sacred room, a powerful shrine where crutches
of many healed pilgrims adorn the walls.

If you go there, do not be surprised if you feel
palpable saintly energy that will renew you and
replenish your faith. This I write from experience.

Bob Boyd

Uncertainty

Ever think of how uncertain your life is?
Consider how in a millisecond it could end
The death strike of a deadly medical condition that kills you slowly, cruelly
A drug infested, cell phone talking driver mows you down crossing a street
A roaring tornado rips up your home and kills you in a deadly whirl
A fanatical death wish tyrant drops a nuke on your country and ends you
A giant asteroid obliterates your city, you, and possibly the human race
The earth unexpectedly, implausibly, spins out of orbit canceling everything
Maybe the hedonists have the right idea, live for today
Party away your fears in mindless nights, don’t think about tomorrows
Or the uncertainty of this fragile existence and your tenuous, temporary life.

Bob Boyd

Squirrel

Amazingly nimble in trees
and on telephone lines.

Dangerously awkward on streets
and at dodging cars.

Squirrel, aerial acrobat,
what’s wrong with you?

In the trees and on telephone lines
none are your equal.

Yet in the streets and in front of cars
you fall apart.

Given you dodge predators in
the air and on the ground.

One would think streets and cars
would be cakewalks by comparison.

Yet thousands of your species
end as roadkill every day.

Maybe the panic I’d feel
seeing a 72 foot brontosaurus

Is the same panic you feel
when you see a giant car.

And you freak out and die
under those killer tires.

Bob Boyd

The Infamous Torsaker, Sweden Witch Trials 1675

The largest witch trials in Sweden by Godly men,
1675 in Torsaker Sweden. Thanks to the dark arts
of these zealous men of God 71 innocent Swedes,
65 women, 6 men accused of witchcraft.

But the fun had just begun. Shortly after the trail the 71
beheaded and burned on the stake, a banner day for
the Lord’s work in the twisted minds of more
Satanic than Godly men, more sadistic than holy.

A blight upon religion to be sure. No angels, no saints, no infinite
God intervened. The falsely accused went up in the fiery smoke,
headless and betrayed by the leaders of their flocks, a fine day
for dark forces, if they exist.

Were I the Supreme Being back then, I would have smote the
religious desecrators of the faith with a thousand lightning bolts
and maybe some locusts and plagues just to smite them more.
And I would have welcomed the 71 into heaven evermore.

Bob Boyd

What Happened to Hitler When He Died?

Here’s my theory that I will tell:
At first he felt the anguishing weight
of all the horrors, of all the sorrows
of all the deaths upon his darkened soul,
a dark soul no Divine Light could enter
consigned into something akin to Hell,
near eternal penance for the multitudes of
sorrows, horrors, and deaths he like a demon
possessing a madman, cast upon the world.
Conjuring the insidious evil of the Holocaust,
he would endure a similar suffering in a Hell
of his diabolical Karma that would go on and on.
After thousands of years of unspeakable suffering,
humbled and remade enough to begin a gradual
ascent to higher worlds where timeless
years later, he would find a loving forgiving
God awaiting him in an eternal paradise
beyond words, beyond imagination
permeated with unconditional love and
eternal unending bliss.

Of course my theory could be harebrained wrong
Perhaps Hitler was reincarnated repeatedly
as an endangered dog in a country where
a dog was a lip-smacking gourmet delight,
But who among us could be right?

Bob Boyd

When The Love of My Life Died at Age 18

My love, sweet Marella, died in 1962; a savage colon cancer took her out.
Only 18, just beginning life to be my forever wife ended.
The day she died I think subconsciously I wanted to drink myself to death.

That mournful night I drank beer, whisky, wine, and other drinks I can’t remember.
I passed out, when I don’t know, woke up in the Emergency Room and was doing okay under the critical circumstances until I remembered Marella was dead.

Perhaps because I was little more than a lamenting, lifeless corpse full of booze crying uncontrollable tears, I died of a broken heart when my ticker stopped ticking and I was clinically dead.

Above my body watching doctors frantically trying to save me, I didn’t want to go back to my devastated life without Marella, my sweet Marella.

As if she read my thoughts, Marella appeared before me in spirit, dressed in a white glowing gown looking more beautiful and more radiant than she ever did on earth.
Transmitting thoughts, reading each others minds, talking was impossible, we swore a love allegiance, and Marella told me as surely as the stars lit up the night sky we’d be together again and forever.

Cruelly, at that glorious, unforgettable moment I was slammed back into my body, a doctor pounding paddles on my chest, the feel of my body heavy and uncomfortable after being in my light, ethereal body.

Now each night I meet Marella in dreams, and a dream wife is good enough for me, my love for her strong enough to wait until I really die and I’m reunited with my sweet Marella forever.

Bob Boyd

In the Rock Hills of Lalibela

Hewn into rock hills in Lalibela
sacred second Jerusalem
stands in Ethiopia.

Place of pilgrimage
sacred site where
pilgrims come to pray.

For over a thousand years
infused with the prayers
of millions.

A giant etched cross
adorns the top sealed
with a promise of heaven.

Stone shrine conferring
blessings, the magnificent
Church of Saint George.

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