Month: July 2024

Larry Sachs worked as a laborer,
A no nonsense hard working man.
He had a wife named Cecelia
And a six-year old son, little Larry.
One Sunday three robed Lamas
Knocked on Larry’s front door.
What the hell is this Larry said?
The Lamas said little Larry
Had been a high lama in a
Former life, and they wanted
To take him back to a lamasery
With them. No freakin’ way
Larry said and kicked them out
Of his house. Little larry, a lad
Of six cried and said he wanted
To go with the lamas. Larry told
Little larry to shut the hell up and
Forget about that crazy nonsense.
Big Larry had a dream that night
And saw little Larry dressed in a
Lama’s robe and setting himself
On fire in a former life as a lama
To protest a war in Viet Nam.
Larry woke up a believer and
Rushed into little Larry’s room
Just in time to take the matches
Away from him, and little Larry
Is now a lama in that lamasery.

Bob Boyd

When I got into Zen, I also bought a dog named Bo.
I’d sit in zazen facing a wall seeking enlightenment.
I did this for a month. Then Bo began sitting beside me.
At first I thought it was just Bo not knowing any better
And just sitting with me because he was my dog,
But he’d close his eyes and sit as meditatively as me.

Then one day after a zazen Bo had blissed out.
By that sageful look in his enlightened eyes,
I knew that Bo had become a master of Zen.
When I asked him the sound of one hand clapping
He barked like never before, and I had my first satori
And my dog Bo became my Canine Sensei Supreme.

Bob Boyd

Sunny days and holidays
Great for many people
As for me I’m looking
For those sunny days
In the ever bright afterlife
For my eternal holiday
From the troubles and strife
In this fleeting uncertain life
But a doctor said I could live
Another thirty years
Alas, he may be more
Right than wrong
About my swan song.

Bob

Lived without your love for nine years
You came back after cheating on me

as if the years had erased your offense
against me, once your faithful husband.

I learned you cheated on your paramour
too, not surprised, bad habits prevail.

Fool me once, never twice, won’t roll
the dice on bad bet broken trust.

I wish you well in your future romances.
Maybe there’s a lesson here for you.

Maybe someday you’ll become truer
Because of your mistakes with me and him.

As for me, I’m nine years better off
with never having to be with you again.

Bob Boyd

I lived in Edinburgh during the Black Plague
My occupation, a well off Plague Doctor
Trying to heal victims of the Black Plague
Mostly removed dead bodies from homes
And buried their rotting, stinking corpses
Took their precious belongings as well
Got rich on those and my high salary
My garb, a black cloak and a bird beak mask
A cane to examine patients, cauterize wounds
Strong Herbs in the mask, incense in the beak
Cloak greased with fat and wax kept fleas away
Bird mask didn’t save me, plague seeped in
Died a horrible death from the plague in 1690

Bob Boyd

Flowers bloom as she walks by them
The grass beneath her feet feels blessed
Tree leaves sing silent songs to her
Rocks tremble as she steps over them
The wind murmurs about her beauty
The clouds gaze at her in wonder
The sky brightens when she appears
The Sun beams at the sight of her
A more beautiful woman there never was

Bob Boyd

Amazing how the body runs itself
Eyes that see, hair that grows
Arms and legs that move
Mouth that talks effortlessly
Nose the sniffs and sneezes
Body temperature that heats
Heart and pulse that beat
Automatic digestive system
Corpse that disposes of itself

Bob Boyd

My life seemed the envy of many.
Became a Hollywood starlet,
Did things I regret to get there,
Sordid times, casting couches.
Costars pawing me on the set,
Some with stinking bad breath.
Had seven failed marriages,
Hard to stay married as a star,
Rarely home, always working.
Male leads, bad husbands.
Me, not really a good wife,
Like my sister back in Ohio
In a little city I came from,
Three kids, one marriage.
She had the happy life;
I only had my dreams.

Bob Boyd

Lured me to North Carolina from Vermont
Stunningly beautiful, sweet Southern accent
Playful, full of joy, a lot of serendipitous fun
A year later, no money in my ATM
And a married man she was writing too
Telling him the same stories she told me
Stunningly beautiful turned criminally ugly
Found a pretty social worker girlfriend

Bob Boyd

Flying above the pigeon coop in ever widening circles
Wings chopping rapidly through the summer air
Embracing the freedom, the magnificence of the group flight
Such a beautiful sight for me to behold, few move me so
Makes me wonder what it would have been like
To have seen passenger pigeons block out the sun

Bob Boyd

I stroll through the verdant park
Families, singles, and dogs
Relaxing, enjoying the fun day
Birds flitting in trees above
Chirping away so merrily
Insects busying themselves
In the ground beneath the park
Butterflies floating above flowers
Bees seeking nectar in them
The sun beaming over it all

Bob Boyd

They met at a high school dance when they were both sixteen,
And the song Sixteen Candles was playing during their first dance.
To their surprise, they had the same birthday, April 15.
They got married after high school, he became a mechanic.
She went to beautician school and opened a beauty shop.
They had three children, one died in an awful auto accident.
The other two went to college and had comfortable lives.
She got breast cancer at thirty-three and survived it.
He got a heart attack at sixty-six and survived that.
Now they’re celebrating their birthdays in a nursing home,
Eighty-six candles and still madly in love after all those years.

Bob Boyd

I’d been on sixteen ghosts hunts
But never saw any real ghosts like Midnight Mary.
In fact, I never really saw a ghost before Mary.
Sure my equipment suggested ghost activity,
But that’s not as spooky as coming face to face
With a real dead spirit roaming the earth.

I’d heard about a ghost named Midnight Mary,
At the old, abandoned Bradmore Hotel.
I even saw an alleged photo of her ghostly face.
The photo looked fake, bogus urban legend stuff.
Supposedly people died messing with Mary.
Inside the Bradmore heard a scary rustling near me.
Shined my flashlight in the direction of the sound
Rats dashed away to their hiding places.
Searched the entire hotel, saw no sign of Mary.

Just more nonsense I mumbled to myself.
Drove to a motel, disappointed, another fake lead.
Retired for the night, fell into a dreamless sleep.
Heard an eerie sound fill the room, thought it was a dream,
One minute like a witch’s cackle, the next a ghostly wail.
Felt hands clutching my throat choking me to death,
Frightened, opened my eyes: Midnight Mary!
Died of shock in that old motel bed, my face frozen in fear.
Sometimes when you hunt ghosts, they hunt you.
Now as if I were bitten by a vampire, I’m a ghost too,
And every night I haunt this motel in which I died.

Bob Boyd

He pursued her unmercifully state to state
After she ran away from his physical abuse.
He kept her in a state of nonstop panic,
The monster that he had become or always was.
She bought a gun, kept it under her pillow.
She never needed the gun for self defense.
Fortunately he died in a road rage argument.
He drew the gun he planned to kill her with
On an quick draw off duty police officer,
Who shot him to death on highway 99.
No tears fell for this abusive monster,
Except tears of grateful relief
When she learned he was dead.

Bob Boyd

Tired of going to doctors
Done with taking all those pills
Sick of all the medical bills
That arrived almost everyday
He made the hard decision
To let nature have its way
Stopped all the medical
Savored the freedom
From doctors and pills
And the never ending bills
Died peacefully a week later

Bob Boyd

Kayleen always loved my red shirt,
The one she bought me for my birthday.
I didn’t like the shirt but never told her so.
I wore it just for her expressed delight.
You do things like this for the one you love.
Since she passed away two years ago
From a fast moving colon cancer,
I wear that red shirt more often now
It reminds me of the love she had for me.

Bob Boyd

She said the sands of our time had ran out
She loved to speak endlessly in cliches
I said fine by me our love is like a dried up desert
She said you don’t know what you’ve got until you lose it
I said good by me lose our worn out relationship
She said all’s well that ends well
I said then end it and go
She said departure is such sweet sorrow
I said methinks it’s bittersweet
She said lets kiss and make up
I said love can find a way

Bob Boyd

Met a woman named Angel
Angel or Devil I wondered
Or maybe a bit of both
Publically a perfect Angel
Privately a conniving Devil
Loved her public persona
But her private one
Scared the hell of of me

Bob Boyd

Keen eyed robin glides to the ground
Wings outstretched eyes penetrating
Lands gracefully with beak ready
No eyed worm feels predator vibration
Too late he realizes death is at hand
Robin plucks him out of the ground
Worm too slow to make an escape
Worm sees his whole life before him
Rubin hungrily devours worm
Worm see white tunnel of light
And burrows his way through it
To his dark underground heaven
His true home of infinite bliss

Bob Boyd

Those macho tough guy actors
That kicked ass on the movie screens
When I was a young fan back then
Are now dead or old and feeble
Their virility, their hard physiques
Now merely weakened memories
Tough guys asses kicked by aging

Bob Boyd