Month: April 2024

In the sixties he ate the bark off of trees
And everything edible in the forest,
Including insects, roots and flowers.
Never ate those processed foods
So abundant in the western world.
He saw the animals in the forest
As brothers and sisters.
He understood the howls of wolves.
He could interpret the sounds of bears,
And he described himself as a bear whisperer
And considered bears as part of his family.
One day he consumed a bucket of dandelions,
One of his bear relative’s favorite treats.
And his whispers and kinship meant nothing
When the bear smelled the dandelions inside him
And gorged himself on the human dandelion treat,
Like a kid eating a chocolate covered ice cream bar.

Bob Boyd

I was living the dream
A Rock and Roller
Starting at age 16
Toured all over the USA
Opened for some big name bands
Wrote the songs for my band
Knew one day we’d have a hit
On the road for 50 years
Never wrote that big hit
Not even a one hit wonder
Realized I was never going
To be a big international star
I dreamed I’d be at age 16
At least I lived the dream

Bob Boyd

A company head like ancient Nero
Fiddling around with employees.
Her music, demeaning outbursts
Discordant verbal assaults
That caused the audiences of
Workers to quit year after year.

The cost: a bad reputation
All over the city and the loss
Of many high quality employees.
But like Nero, she didn’t reform
And kept blowing good people out the door.
Some people are just born tyrants,
Who no more than a psychopath
Can change his behavior are
Locked into theirs.

But the world goes on and
Devalued employees find
Better jobs elsewhere. So
At least the story has
A happy ending, except
For the Nero-like tyrant.

Bob Boyd

The sun fell from the sky
The moon blew up
Stars scattered throughout the universe
Nukes destroyed the earth planet
The remains of which spun
Aimlessly in the cosmos.
Nostradamus was right,
But no problem
The Dance of Shiva
Will start again and
Humans will resume
Their evolutionary
Journeys.

Bob Boyd

Outraged by increasing, out of control crime,
even women getting punched in the streets,
My brother and I decided to go into superhero action.
I dressed like Batman. He dressed like Robin.
We both had years of martial arts training
And from lifting weights since childhood,
We were incredibly strong and imposingly buffed.

As a team, we patrolled the streets of our city every night.
We kicked the crap out of a rapist, stopped a robbery of an old lady.
We became crime fighting legends even on the evening news.
Our mission was exhilarating, cleaning up the streets of vermin.
We fought criminals all over the city. We stopped more crime than the cops.
All the glory ended when we caught a street walker trying to solicit.
We were going to report her to the police, but my brother said no.

In a save the princess knight mode, he told her he could save her from the streets,
And I could see they had a love connection that would go nowhere.
Shocked, I tried to rein in his delusional lovesickness and save him
From making the dumbest mistake of his life and the possible end of our team.
He starts going out with her and says she’s really a good girl;
she just had a hard life and that led her to degrading herself in the streets.
He quits the team.

She convinces him freelance crime fighting is too dangerous,
As if her career path wasn’t loaded with dangers and dangerous characters.
After a month of fighting crime without him, I felt like the Lone Ranger
Instead of Batman. I couldn’t go on without our duo, without my backup.
A year later, the street walker turned good girl leaves my brother
To become a nun in a convent hundreds of miles away.

My brother goes crazy, puts on a Superman costume, gets drunk,
And tries to fly off the top of the six storey apartment building he lives in.
On the way down, he sees the street walker, turned good girl, turned nun
Coming back to him. She folds her hands in prayer and prays out loud, and my
Brother floats down into her arms. Maybe that nun stuff gave her some
Potent prayer power like a super nun hero.

Bob Boyd

Remember when I saved your life when
You fell of that boat and could not swim,
And the current began pulling you down?

Remember when I brought you that
Carnation for our senior prom and
You said we’d be together forever?

Remember how when you went to
That fancy college and felt you
Were becoming too good for me?

Remember how I said you were
Becoming too stuck up for me
And I never called you again?

I remember all those times
And often think of how things
Might have been.

Bob Boyd

His parent always said,
Why can’t you be like him?
He’s always helping his father,
He’s a model kid.
He grew to hate that model kid
He could never be like.
But he found out he was
better than him in one way.
Playing a game of hockey
On a pond near where he lived
The model kid tried to stick
His hockey stick into
another player’s ice skate
Who had gotten past his defense.
Though in his parents’ eyes,
He wasn’t as good as the model kid
He knew he’d never be a cheater like him.

Bob Boyd

When she presented she was magical.
Her words flowed into the audience,
Captivating, hypnotic, sugar sweet.
Her knowledge, massive, amazing,
She educated many. Enlightened many lives.
Whether you were a PhD or a high school dropout
Both of you completely understood her topic.
Her presentations had that quality,
Unpretentious, real, beneficial to everyone.
Her name is Wanda Moone. You probably
Never heard of her. You probably never
Will, a loss I wish you never missed.

Bob Boyd

I like crows
Their color,
Their sounds,
Their smarts,
But I don’t
Like how
They savage
Birds nests
When I see
Smaller birds
Flying after
Them.

But I guess
This is just
Nature
Birds and
Animals
Just doing
What they
Do.

Maybe
Like we
Kill and
Eat animals.
So maybe
Though
Most of us
Are good
People and
Wouldn’t
Savage little
Birds nests
We’re no
Better than
Crow behavior
When we
Savage and
Consume
Animals.

Bob Boyd

She told me she’d been a witch in a former life.
I had no quarrel with that but I doubted it.
We got involved and all was grand.
She began dressing in all black clothes
And bought herbs and began casting spells.
I had no quarrel with that and liked the herbs
And was grateful she didn’t wear a pointed black hat.
She adopted a black cat she called her familiar.
I had no quarrel with that and liked the cat.
One day a road raged driver shot me in the arm.
She said he seriously will pay for that and to
Forget about the often unjust courts of law.
Because the shooter was the son of a rich man.
She had a point but I was determined to see
Justice done to the man who nearly killed me.
She said I put a spell on him; this will never go to court.
I didn’t believe her but had no quarrel with her intent.
A day later the son of a rich man shooter,
A young man with good health died of a massive heart attack.
I had no quarrel with that because I think it was only a confidence.
But ….

Bob Boyd

Today I stood at your grave
My tears watering the flowers
I brought for you.

I lost my faith in God the
Day your screwed up
Ex murdered you.

He’s in a grave too, his fate
Worse than yours and
More than deserved.

Now I wander city streets
Sometimes talking to you
In my head.

I’ve gone a little crazy
From thinking about how
You’re in that grave

Just a corpse rotting away
In that cold ground and
Gone from me forever.

I have wondered why this
Terrible nightmare had to happen
To you and me.

I wish I could be dead like
You and end this misery in
My ever aching heart

I’ve thought about killing myself;
It’s too hard to go on without you,
But I haven’t the guts to do it.

My friends say time heals all wounds
But this wound will stay open
For the rest of my miserable life.

I just can’t go on without you and
I don’t want to go on in a Godless
World you’re no longer in.

Bob Boyd

A fan spins above my head cooling me,
The earth is spinning too, maybe in sync.
But is the gargantuan earth planet
Spinning slower, which could account
For why I cannot feel the spinning?
And I know it’s better I cannot,
My balance isn’t as good as it once was.
And maybe the feel of a spinning earth
Would give me chronic vertigo
that would drive me insanely mad.
As I’m writing this, I’m wondering if
All the planets spin at the same speed,
And why can’t they just remain still.
Now my mind is spinning with thoughts,
Like an assembly line thoughts machine
Cranking out thoughts unceasingly.
So I’m going to just enjoy the cool breeze of
The fan, forget the cosmic stuff, and end this poem.

Bob Boyd

Heard about people having their
heads frozen after they died.
What was the point of that?
They believed in the far future
Scientists would reanimate their heads
And provide them with new, fresh bodies,
Probably manufactured in laboratories.
This poses the question can these braindead heads
Become jump started with their marbles intact?
Perhaps those who probably paid through the nose,
Pun intended, for these Frankensteinian, guillotine-like services
Believed not in a lifeforce animating their living brains and bodies,
If their severed, frozen heads could be unfrozen and woken up.
I believe they’d have a horror movie on the hands they wouldn’t have,
A spiritless brain, eyes that couldn’t open, a mouth that couldn’t talk,
A comatose head unfit for any kind of body.

Bob Boyd

Not being controlled
Not having anyone run interference
on what you are achieving
Not essentially held hostage by
the need for a paycheck
Not working at something you
don’t like but must to survive
Not having to take any nonsense
Not needing to do things you’d prefer not to
like needless time wasting meetings
Not being a slave to the clock
Not needing weekend breaks
Not having to put up with the possibility
of a difficult coworker
Not suffering any slights by
an ungrateful boss

Bob Boyd

He saw her photo in the news
35 and dead
In an auto accident
Something about her
Captured his heart
A nameless
Undefinable thing
He found the location of her grave
Visited her with flowers
He placed at her grave
Felt compelled to keep visiting her grave
It was an afterlife infatuation
That grew and grew and grew
Two months later she began appearing in his dreams
Every night a dream date
Now he knows for sure
He’ll be with her when he dies

Bob Boyd

Out of all the ice cream flavor choices
I’m trying to think of my favorite one
Is it Vanilla Chocolate Almond
Or Moose Tracks
Or Peanut Butter Cup
Or Cookies n Cream
No
None of them will do
Let me think
A little more
Tap into my
Presently bankrupt
Taste memory banks
Ah ha!
I got it here we go
Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough

Bob Boyd

Imagine when people were persecuted for reading Bibles.
Imagine before that when only the elite priests could read
Biblical truths and teaching, psalms, proverbs, and more.
Some of the non-Catholic Bible Readers burned at the stake.
Protestant martyrs, each one hunted down and murdered.
William Tyndaly translated the Bible into English
And was strangled and burned at the stake.
In 1401 Oxford professors burned at the stake too,
Their crime, translating the Bible into English.
I often wish the Lord above could have intervened
And saved the thousands upon thousands tortured and killed
By those that perverted Christianity and the Catholic Religion
Thank God those days are gone now.

Bob Boyd

Thousands dead on
The blood-laden
Battlefield strewn
With the corpses
Of young men who
Had futures but
Now dead never to
Return home
Never seen by
Loved ones again

They fought a senseless
War for a dictator safe
Far from the battlefield
He sent those dead
Men into battle like
Pawns on a chessboard
Their lives insignificant
To him

Bob Boyd

Sammy had been in the Air Force in Germany
For three long years, and he was close to
going home discharged from the Air Force.
He counted the dwindling days by saying
So many days and a wake up call like
“I got 4 days and a wake up call!”
But beneath all that jubilation, he worried
About the plane home to America crashing
Before he ever got to his home shore.
When the wake up call came and Sammy
Was bound to America, the last time he’d
Ever see Germany or the Air Force again
The plane kept hitting jarring air pockets,
One so violent people screamed. But
After the bumpy trip and the scares
The plane landed safely in American,
And Sammy sighed with relief and felt like
Kissing the ground in the airport until,
In what America has become known for,
A psycho guy with a gun splattered bullets
All over the airport and Sammy took one in the chest.
He died on the frantic trip to the Emergency Room
And never got another wake up call.

Bob Boyd

Martha, John’s coworker, chided him
For not giving the can factory they
Both worked for a two week notice
When he stormed off the job
After an outrageous slight
By the owner of the company.
Ironically, a month later Martha
got fired without even a day’s notice
By the toxic owner of the can company.
Shocked, she wondered how she was
going to pay her rent and all her bills,
And how long it would take to find another job
With the possibility of a negative reference.

Bob Boyd

Before they got married
She spent all her time
With him.

After they got married,
she spent most of her
time with girlfriends.

She thought he’d put up with a
Lonely with her marriage
Until he walked out the door
And never came back.

Bob Boyd

He saw them in his garden
cooking up word concoctions
To put fatal kill spells on him.
They were mad he called them out
For their evil designs against anyone
Who disagreed with them.
But they picked the wrong prey
And knew nothing about
Who he really was and
The power he possessed,
His true identity hidden.
Just as they began chanting
Spells empowered to kill him
They screamed in horror
As their bodies evaporated
And they felt the blunt force
Of his advanced wizardry.

Bob Boyd

I would like to have a cat as a pet
I love the way, unlike with dogs,
They automatically housebreak
Themselves with a litter box.
No poo on the floor, easy to
Maintain the litter box. I
Don’t like how they jump
On tables. The worst is if
You are at someone’s house
For dinner, and the cat strolls
Across the dinner table.
I couldn’t deal with that.
Which is why I’ll never
Have a cat, except Bastet.
Let me clarify. Bastet is an
Egyptian cat goddess that
I have a 12 inch statue of.
That’s cat enough for me.

Bob Boyd

He took the saying if you can believe it you can do it as undeniable truth.
To him it aligned with the Biblical faith of a mustard seed truth,
And he figured his faith and belief in being able to fly would work.
Why this cockamamie idea got into his head, no one knew?
But as he said, “I believe it with all my heart and all my might.”
He prepared himself for the day of his flight that he knew
Was going to astound the world and make forever history
By repeating If you can believe it you can do it over and over.
To further guarantee success, he visualized himself flying too.
On the day of his take off to fly like the birds in the air,
He dressed in a superman costume to give his flight some flair.
He took an elevator to the top of a ten storey building
And climbed on the guard rails, yelled Geronimo and
Soared into the sky downwards flapping his arms like wings,
The street below excitedly waiting to smash him to bits.
The gods of flight must have been with him that day;
He landed on a truck filled with mattresses and lived.
To doubters who said he never flew, he said, “I kinda did.”

Bob Boyd

Where did the years go, he wonders?
Seems he was twenty one yesterday.
Now at ninety one, death closing in,
He’s just an empty shell to those
Who know nothing about his life.
Another nondescript old man
Hobbling about on a cane. He’s
Like the dull cover of a book with
no pages within. Age has rendered
Him nearly invisible or a nuisance
To some, sucking money out of the
System with his Social Security.
Hanging on pointlessly to life
When he should just be dead.
But within that dull book cover
There are amazing stories and
A rich personal history of a life,
That none could imagine. And
Many won’t take the time to
Hear his amazing stories.

I remember when old age was
Associated with wisdom and
Elderly people were esteemed,
Respected and held in high regard.
More’s the pity times have
Changed.

Bob Boyd

On the dating app she wanted a man making $200,000;
That was her price per year. She knew the guy was
Getting off cheap to have a chance with a 50-year-old
Prize like her. Her appraisal wasn’t based in reality. A
Guy could get a younger, better looking woman for far less.
One 52-year-old guy scored a hot woman in her twenties
For only $50,000, proving that dating scene was a buyer’s
Market with a woman’s value declining with her years.

Fed up with the frustrations of online dating and depressed,
She went to a small Baptist Church near where she lived,
Seeking some divine intervention solace. She needed a
God-given fix. An attractive man her age caught her attention.
They talked and talked after church and had so many
Things in common. After two years of dating, her and that
$20,000 man got married in that Baptist Church.

Bob Boyd

His life bleak and joyless,
Kept alive with ten pills,
His complaints never ceased.
A great athlete in his youth,
How had he come to this?
Alone, his wife had left him;
All his friends had died.
Nothing left to live for,
He stopped taking his pills.
What was the use? Why
Prolong his miserable life?
He decided to kill himself.
Pointless to keep living
In such abject loneliness
And unceasing misery.

Just as he pointed his Glock
to his head and grasped the
Trigger, his phone rang.
An old flame who said she
Missed him and wanted to
See him. The romance
Rekindled, he took his pills
Again and lived twenty
Loving years with her.
He often said she was
The best medicine for him,
They died on the same day,
May 17,1996 in their sleep.

Bob Boyd

Rosalie, I believe that’s your name
Pray tell where are you?
I’m still here longing for you
I thought we’d meet in the
Springtime of our youthful days

Yet in all these passing years
In this lovelorn winter haze
Our stars have not yet crossed
Except in those romantic dreams
Which I thought were presaging
Our inevitable meeting in this life

Now I wonder if you by some
Devilish cruel design you
Were taken from me by Death
Before our predestined destiny
But my heart harkens with
The epiphany that we will
Meet in the afterlife where
Our love will be better
And forever minus
The uncertainties and
The sorrows and partings
Of this fleeting world

Bob Boyd

Rasboras, Rasboras
What liberated you?

For months all of you
Hid under the big sponge filter
Peeping out at the greater world
Of your ten gallon aquarium

I never saw you come out to eat
How did you survive?

Did fish flakes missed by the
Braver fish get delivered to you
In your sponge filter hideaway
Via the suction power?

Was your reticence because of
My Godzilla size compared to you?

Whatever the reason you broke the
Chains of your isolation,

Rasboras, Rasboras
it’s good to see you.

Bob Boyd

I dreamed we rode giant butterflies in rapturous delight
Through radiant astral planes with luminous blue skies,
Through glittering gold clouds that showered us with bliss.

Choirs of angels heralded us with voices more melodious
Than any we’d ever heard in the denser earth plane.

When we landed in a meadow and dismounted
Translucent flowers blossomed upon seeing us
Transmitting silent blessings in honor of our love
Beyond all loves, soulmates forever in eternity.

Bob Boyd

I step out of the apartment building I live in.
Giant bees swarm and buzz around me
As if I’m an intruder in their territory.
I see two of them mating on a step
Unconcerned about who is watching.
What the hell, have they no modesty?
Chidingly, jokingly I say, “Get a room.”

The other bees fly nearer paying no attention
To the indecent couple publicly copulating.
They buzz louder, fly closer to me,
Trying to intimidate me with their bluster.
Do they not know they are the intruders
Upon the previous bee-free doorway?

You might be wondering why I’m not freaking out,
Frightened about getting stung by those angry bees
flying like bomber planes around me.
It’s because I’m the apex predator here.
They don’t sting, and with a few sprays
I could take them all out like bomber planes
tail spinning to the ground in flames.

But like the Hindu Jains, today
I’m practicing ahimsa (nonviolence).
And despite their frenzied bravado,
Their madly buzzing fake attacks
Their puny intimidation attempts,
Like a deified, Roman emperor
In the stands of a coliseum arena
Making a decision to kill or spare
A defeated gladiator with
a sword poised at his head,
I give them a thumb up and
Spare their annoying lives.
Hail Caesar Bob!

Bob Boyd

She brought sunshine with her
Everywhere she went.
Everybody she saw.
Felt the rays of her charisma,
The warmth of her joy.
No matter how bad a day you had,
The sunshine she brought with her
Brightened your bad day,
And made everything okay.

Bob Boyd

She said I was too affected by the magnetic fields of the earth.
I asked her what on earth did she mean by that.
She had no idea. She just liked the way it sounded.
I didn’t mind her talking about something she knew nothing about,
And it did sound kinda cool and appealingly intellectual.
And that’s my girlfriend Daisy who sometimes talks kinda crazy,
But I love her for what to me is an endearing quirk.
At least she’s not an insufferable jerk.

Bob Boyd

The poet Theodore Roethke wrote this line:
“In heaven you’ll be institutionalized.”
Imagine if that were true,
And in heaven you had worse rules
Than on a rule-ridden, toxic job
With overlords like sociopathically strict bosses.
I don’t know about you, but for me that would be like Hell.

Bob Boyd

Maddy never had a soul
Nor a trace of a heart.
Women to him, disposables
Only for promiscuous pleasure.
His love yous, deceitful ploys
To get what he wanted from them.
Stayed with rich ones for a while,
Didn’t mind being a temporary gigolo
Until he got bored and found a newer fling.

He died penniless, womanless, alone
Never contributing anything to the world,
Only using women unconscionably,
Breaking their tender hearts wantonly.
Where he went in the afterlife, a mystery.
Given his wanton, devilish ways,
Wonder how that factored into
His after death relocation.

If there’s no such thing as Hell
Where does a womanizing Manny go?
If there’s such a thing as reincarnation,
Maybe he’ll come back as a rabbit,
Given his prurient proclivities.

Bob Boyd

Drugged up people stumbling around like zombies,
Vacant eyes, no one home in them, too far gone.
Some hardly conscious, barely upright swaying
like being blown about in random winds.
Distorted people shooting up in public,
A Disneyland of human caricatures.
Trash all over the sidewalks and the streets.
Drug paraphernalia scattered everywhere.
It’s a goddamn, screwed up sloppy mess.
Kensington Avenue, whatever happened to you?
And how is it America has fallen so far
With other drug ridden cities like this?
Shame on the rich, indifferent politicians
In charge of all of this misery and neglect
On the streets of Kensington Avenue.

Bob Boyd

I remember how you smiled at me at my Medicare Presentation.
And days later I saw you at the senior center and you smiled at me again.
I waved at you wondering what was behind that beautiful smile.
How I wish I’d gotten to know the you behind that smile,
The most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.
I suspect the inner you was far more beautiful.
But, alas, ships passed, never will I know
All the wonderful, loving treasures inside of you.
I never even knew your name, and I know I’ll never see you again.
Now you’re just a sweet memory in this repressed romantic’s imagination
Thinking about another one of those maybes that might have been.
And, ah me, my life has become like a walking soap opera.

Bob Boyd

Said though she loved him;
She couldn’t settle for him.
Oh how he loved her endlessly,
Would have laid down his life for her,
But he wasn’t good enough.
His 60k a year income wasn’t sufficient.
That paltry income could never buy her
All the stuff she craved and could have
With a few more zeros behind that 60k.
She hooked herself a high-prize catch
Hallelujah! She netted a filthy rich guy!
She got all the stuff she craved and more
With a filthy rich guy who cheated on her.
And she often thinks about that 60k guy,
Who loved her endlessly and
Would have laid down his life for her,
And the love she threw away.

Bob Boyd

Sometimes I wonder how it could have been
You and me
Though I never even hinted about what I was thinking
You and me
And we’ll both go to our graves without you knowing
You and me
And like everything else in life in the end it won’t matter
You or me

Bob Boyd

They don’t have wings
They aren’t from heaven
They aren’t real angels
But
With all their caring
Acts of kindness
They’re as close
As humans can be
To the real thing
God bless all
Of them

Bob Boyd

Married 50 years,
Met in high school.
Stayed madly in love,
Though all those years
In sickness and in health,
For better or worse
Like the preacher said.
Oh how I envy you.

Bob Boyd

Maybe despite people saying and singing
God is in control, there’s some randomness
In the creation equation.

Maybe regardless of how pious you are
Or how well you follow what you think are the rules
Random things can still happen to you.

Maybe it is analogous to doing everything
Right to protect your health, diet, exercise, etc.
Yet health problems can still happen.

Maybe when a tree falls on a woman in a park
in New York and kills her it had nothing
to do with how good or bad she was.

Maybe a lot of life is just randomness that no
Hand in heaven or on earth can prevent
From happening.

Bob Boyd

Not working is so freeing
Used to think
I
Couldn’t live
Without working but
I
Was helping people
For a living and
I
Saw that as being
Like a mission
I
Had so many successes
Did so much good
I
Didn’t see it as about me
Like Service working through me
I
Often felt euphoric when everything got fixed
Because of dedicated caring efforts
I
Miss the helping but the afterlife
will afford greater opportunities to help
I
With all my heart and all my soul
believe that awaits me

Bob Boyd

Often I
Wonder and wonder and wonder
Why the world is overrun
with evil with evil with evil
I suppose if you believe in a God that gives an evil entity
Satan Satan Satan
Carte Blanche on inflicting evil upon the planet
That can
Reconcile, reconcile, reconcile
The ungovernable infamy
All over the world
But that just doesn’t work for me
And I still
Wonder and wonder and wonder.

Bob Boyd

Perching in trees
Gliding in the air
Craftily sourcing food
Dropping nuts on the street
For cars to run over and crack them
Never forgetting human faces
Sometimes bringing gifts
To people who feed them
Demonized in horror movies
An injustices to the noble bird species
Crows

Bob Boyd

The ever evil Professor Effing
Cooked up monstrosities
In his hidden lab in GSO, NC.
He unleashed them in a quiet neighborhood,
People walking dogs, some people jogging.
A sunny idyllic day for fun and play
Before thirty giant genetically modified
Mongolian Death Worms destroyed
Everything that moved in that neighborhood.
Walkers, joggers, dogs, cats and a car or two
Until they discovered they had no appetite for cars.
Professor Effing, his experiment a wild success
Took his show on the road to HP, NC.
Pray your neighborhood isn’t next.

Bob Boyd

I completely understand MIGTOW
Men going their own way without women
Many men have been disappointed
Not always the man’s fault
Despite all the womansplaining claims
Been through that too many times like the
Nice guys finishing last cliche
And I’m also not one to put up
with a lot of toxic nonsense
That some men put up with unable to let go
Despite their lives been screwed up
Sometimes that clinging is based on the woman’s looks
Beautiful isn’t worth that high cost

Some screwed in courts favoring women
With high child support payments and alimony
Women getting everything, men practically nothing
Some get greedy leave a man for one with more stuff
I’m not saying all women are ill intentioned
I’m not saying all women are like gold diggers
I’m not saying all women treat nice guys badly

I’m saying relationships nowadays
aren’t what they used to be
More women leaving husbands
Social Media one of the causes
A woman can be like a siren online

And be far more picky with too many choices
And get an overinflated opinion of herself
And many of those myriad choices are bogus
Some have been dangerous predators

Some women get bored with a good, decent guy
That loves them and causes them no trouble
They long for the lure of bad boy abuses
Never understood that self destructive nonsense
Seems like a mental health issue to me
And they leave trails of broken hearts behind them

Teacher screwing up marriages
Engaging in sex with students
Not that all teachers are like that
But nearly every week another one
Caught cheating with a student
All over the TV and Internet news
And many are married and want to
Stay with their husbands despite
The odious cheating with a minor

Many marriages not lasting long
Some long ones ending, 30 years and bye bye
So I understand why play the game when the odds against you are
As high as gambling in a rigged casino and your heart is on the line.

Bob Boyd

In my dream last night, or was it yours?
I know it was more than a dream.
You were too real, and so was I.
But how did we meet in that dream?
Do you know, or did you make it happen?

You seemed like a wonder woman
Who could make such things happen,
And I felt like I’d known you before,
My apologies if this is too much too soon,
But I felt as if we were soulmates.

Though I must confess, I don’t know
How the soulmates thing works.
Could there be such a thing as
Reincarnation, and we’d been
Together life after life?

And are you in this world or the afterlife?
You did seem a bit ethereal, and as I
Write this poem I’ll feeling distinct things,
Like the feeling I won’t see you again
Until I join you in the afterlife.

And with these last lines I’m now sure
the last dream I will have in this life
Is when I die and meet you in the Light,
And you kiss me, take my hand,
And welcome me into the afterlife.

Bob Boyd

Snow falling
Ice spreading
Ponds and lakes
Sheets of ice
Icicles sprouting
Upside down
Crystalline plants
Animals and birds
Taking cover
Flowers hiding
Insects burrowing
The ground shivering
Rocks freezing
Kids having fun

Bob Boyd

Gray-haired sorrows
Few tomorrows
Looks gone
Life torn
With aging’s
Torments
Friends
Dead
Husband too
But at least
She can still
Smile and
Marvel at
God’s creation
And the wonders
Of the world

Bob Boyd