I hated spinach; she loved it.
She wanted to eat it every night.
I never wanted to see it on the table.
She was unwilling to compromise,
And I was just as stubborn.
What began as a difference in taste
Ended in arguments every night.
Eventually she said she was leaving,
And I told her to make sure she took
Her awful tasting spinach with her.
Now I hate spinach more than ever.
Bob Boyd
Like an old song, he got lost in love
But couldn’t find how way out when
He discovered he was lost with the
Wrong woman who happened to be
An ax murderer like an old movie
Fortunately he had good GPS and
Got some direction and was able
To find his way out of the wrong
Turn he had taken and fell in love
With another woman who was
Really a life size Barbie Doll
But at least she wasn’t out to
Ax him to death if you ask me
Bob Boyd
Murderers, rapists and pedophiles, why do we have to have them in this world?
Why do all their innocent victims have to be subjected to such twisted horrors?
If God is love, where is the love in that?
And why is it even permitted in this world?
I can in no way fathom the purpose in that for anything Divine
Or any purpose for such infamy existing that harms so many innocents.
If I believed in a Satan that lures people into such heinous acts,
Then I could see the cause and effect and maybe understand it.
But even then, why would some have to be turned into monsters?
And why are some people born into this life as psychopaths?
You could say it is all about free will; people have a choice.
But what choice does a being have who is born a psychopath?
Bob Boyd
I remember you at 16,
When I was 16 too
And had a crush on you.
Beautiful face and body,
Richly blessed by nature.
By 18 you got overweight
And lost your perfect body,
And some of your looks.
How could that have
Happened to you?
Bob Boyd
He told me he’d astral traveled
He encourage me to try it too
I told him about the warnings I’d heard
People lost in the astral planes
Evil entities entering their bodies
When they were out of them
Or traveling into demonic realms
He derided my foolishness
Said it was all nonsense
Last time I saw him
His face frozen in horror
And nobody home
Bob Boyd
A 37 year old single woman rejects 5,000 applicants
Submitted to her by 5,000 enamored men
Who succumbed to her foolish list of questions.
To all those 5,000 men lured to take her test,
You’re better off without a woman so insanely picky.
She’d be the same and worse if you were with her.
You’d never be good enough for her inflated ego,
And she’d be quick to point out your imagined faults.
And she’d dump you within a wretched year,
And guaranteed, she’d have more faults than you.
Bob Boyd
Her incomparable love brought light into his life
And saved him from the empty, lovelorn darkness
That had made him feel so unloved and so invisible.
But fate stole his love the day she died of cancer.
Now he lives In the shadows of a disappeared love.
Bob Boyd
Fool that he was he left a great job
Retirement and substantial benefits
A romantic he left it for true love
Could always find another job
Rarely had he found true love
Moved far away to another state
Vermont to sunny North Carolina
To be with his beautiful true love
A year later she stole from him
And came on to another guy
So much for true love and
A foolish, love blind romantic
Bob Boyd
Jed loved to fish after dark on cool nights
when the big bass and the eels came out.
He’d cast his line far out with a sinker
that sent the bait to the bottom of the lake.
While waiting for a bass or an eel to bite
He’d sit in his rowboat hoping to hook
A big bass rumored to be a giant fish.
He’d heard the legends about how it,
Never failed to get away when hooked.
Usually it broke the line, big as it was.
In a way, Jed almost caught that bass,
Or I should write it caught him
When it emerged from the lake
And more of a giant bass then expected,
It swallowed Jed and his entire row boat.
Bob Boyd
Fifty and five years, his life a mess.
Never thought he’d end up like this,
Incarcerated for a crime he didn’t do.
Sure he was wild but not like this.
Now he spends his days confined
Telling everyone he’s innocent.
No one believes him. No one cares.
They’re sure he killed that young kid.
Now three inmates have a plan.
And soon he’ll be knifed to death
To avenge the murder of that kid.
Justice served and deserved.
And the real killer killed another kid.
Bob Boyd
What is it with this romanticism?
Will it follow me to the grave?
Will I be afflicted with it in the afterlife?
I’m well past the procreative years.
Why does this romanticism linger?
Is it imprinted in the soul forever,
Or stamped on my DNA to never go away?
It is said in death one has no voice box
And surely no reproductive organs,
But I think one has a spiritual heart.
Is that where romanticism starts
And remains eternally in some?
But not in womanless sages
Who might transcend the need,
Who might not have the imprint,
Who might be rare anomalies
Unlike terminally romantic me.
Bob Boyd
At any given moment your life can be thrown in chaos.
Something as random as a falling tree in a park,
Or rocks hurled off a bridge by juvenile delinquents.
In New York a shove into an ongoing subway.
But worse things that these can happen,
An agonizing, prolonged death by a disease
That the pain makes you wish for death.
If you’re kind of lucky, it’s not life threatening,
A breakup, a divorce, the loss of a job.
Nonetheless, this is an unpredictable life.
Bob Boyd
She disappeared ten years ago
Never found, no traces of her,
One of many unsolved cases.
Where do these people go?
Alien abductions, serial killers
Human traffickers, death?
She has been seen in dreams
By me and others, but no clue.
She’s smiling in these dreams,
But just stands and says nothing.
I don’t know what that means.
A psychic said she’s in heaven
I guess I’ll go with that for now.
It’s better than awful speculations.
Bob Boyd
Saw you last night in a delightful dream.
You looked as adorable and petite as ever.
Gave you a book, don’t know why.
Hadn’t been thinking of you.
Were you trying to get my attention?
Bob Boyd
Praying mantis aliens
Insectoids 10 feet tall
Intellectually superior
Some claim it’s true
Imagine if hostiles
Coming for us
With anal probes
And surgical tools
Humans examined
Weaknesses sought
For final solution
To the human problem
Bob Boyd
Robins in the trees and on the ground
Flying on branches, hopping on grass.
Worms surfacing unaware of robin beaks everywhere.
Not unlike human life with Death’s beaks always everywhere.
Worms and humans limited life forms both prey every single day.
More obvious with the unaware worms than with the oblivious humans.
Bob Boyd
Time racing by faster and faster
Getting older and older and older
The years passing at warp speed
Death getting nearer and nearer
Closer and closer way too soon
I can almost see the coffin
Being built for dead me
And feel the grass above me
When I’m lying underground
And the me today is
Gone forever tomorrow
Bob Boyd
We came from different backgrounds
Her rich. Me poor.
I was too young to know about the rigid class system.
She didn’t know about it either, being a teenager too.
Her father and mother hated me.
I was unworthy scum to them. She deserved better.
My family didn’t have enough stuff, working class nobodies.
My father was a janitor, my mother a maid in a hotel.
Though I was just a kid, I knew it all came down to stuff.
Who had the most of if. Who had the least of it.
And it was all just nonsense. Nothing more.
But I was a dreamer blind to the class system,
And so was she.
So we eloped when we turned 18,
And you’d have thought I’d committed a crime.
Her family blamed me for their daughter’s disobedience,
And the better life she deserved rather than being with me
Her father sent two burly thugs after me.
They beat me up and nearly killed me.
And demanded I sign divorce papers.
I resisted until they started torturing me.
The pain became so extreme dying would have been better.
The pain too much to bear, I finally gave in and took the bribe,
A job at another state far away with great pay,
And the promise I’d never contact her again.
I could have tried to fight it legally later,
But I couldn’t afford the justice
Her father’s legal team could.
And I never saw her again.
I stayed in my own class after that,
And married a good, decent woman,
Who like my mother is a hotel maid,
Whose family thought highly of me
And didn’t care about how much stuff I didn’t have.
Bob Boyd
Though I’m okay with expletives
I never put them in poems
Agreed they can add more than shock value
To the dramatic impact of a poem
But I just don’t feel the need
To use them in my writings
Unlike in my younger years when
I used them unsparingly
And maybe I’d offend someone
Who abhors expletives unlike me
Bob Boyd
Born a natural beauty everybody said
Blonde hair cornflower blue eyes
Popular cheerleader in high school
Eyed and pursued by many boys
Didn’t want to get tied down
Bigger dreams than just a wife
After high school graduation
Won a local beauty pageant
Seeking stardom moved to Hollywood
Wanted fame on the silver screen
Took many acting classes
Thought I could became a star like Hepburn
After many auditions got only bit parts
Worked odd jobs in between the roles
Married a famous talent agent
Said he’d make me a star like Hepburn
Got me only more bit parts
None open the door to stardom
Divorced the talent agent
Cheated on me with many women
Years flew by my chances dimmed
I got older and less alluring
A director said my shot was over
Nobody wants to sleep with you
Unable to live with lost looks
And being an undesirable failure
Drank too much booze
Got chronically depressed
Killed myself by jumping
Off the Golden Gate Bridge
Bob Boyd