Hannibal

In 218 BC, I crossed the alps with my
Famous North African War Elephants.
I brought burning hell to Rome
Winning scores of victories
In battles at the Battle of Ticinus,
Trebia, Lake Trasimene and Cannae.
The arrogant Romans felt their
defenses were impregnable.
They’d never met the likes of me.
Nor could they believe I’d taken
Those magnificent beasts across
The treacherous Alps.
But fifteen years later at the
Battle of Zuma, the Romans
Defeated me and I fled.
I was on the run for years
Until at the court of Bithynia,
I was handed over to the Romans
And poisoned myself to death,
Rather than let the Romans
Torture and execute me.

Bob Boyd

Madam Wei

I enjoyed a high reputation as a great
poetess in China in the 11th century.
My poems were considered as good
As the famous poet Li Quingzao’s
Celebrated masterpiece poems.
Though some nearsighted critics
Disagreed (No doubt because
I was a woman, and they were men).
Had I been a man, they would
Have raved about my poems
And hailed me as the
greatest poet in all of China.
I’m sad to say time wasn’t kind
To my best selling published collection
Madame Wei’s Works, that made
The China Times best seller list
For ten years. I suspect Misogynist
Male critics burned them after I died.

Bob Boyd

Lenora

At age seven, my sister Lenora
Developed an obsession with ants.
If you accidentally stepped on one
She would scold you for a week.
When my parents bought me an
Ant Farm one joyous Christmas,
As soon as I received the ants
Through the postal service,
I remember the stormy day,
Lenora went maniacally psycho
And smashed the farm to bits,
And set all the bewildered ants free
When a teenager, her obsession worsened;
She vowed to set all the ants free
At what she called the ant gulag,
The ant farm factory in Pittsburg, PA.
I worried she’d become a loopy
My suspicions confirmed when
She broke into the factory,
Somehow set numberless ants free
And tried to burn the factory down.
Now she’s spent fifty years
In a psychiatric hospital composing
Crazy paeans to ants while I write
Weird poems about stink bugs
Obsessively and dream about
Inventing a Stink Bug Farm
And selling it to the world.

Bob Boyd