Month: October 2024

She loved picking flowers
That grew outside her house
Unaware that the flowers
Had feelings and hurt
When they were pulled
Out of their earth habitats

She severed their stems
And stuffed them in vases
Where they faded and died
Premature isolated deaths
And were tossed away
With the rest of the trash

Bob Boyd

The sun comes up
The early birds awake
And bask in morning light
The night owls go to sleep
And dream kaleidoscope dreams
The bursting sun glistens
Upon the calm waters
The world begins to yawn
Creation awakes
Another day breaks

Bob Boyd

He saw her in a dream
He hadn’t talked to her
In a long long time
He traveled to London
To see her in the dream
They had a nice talk
After he woke up
He realized he never
Knew her
At least not in this life
At least not in this world

Bob Boyd
d

Big birds eat little birds
Big fish eat little fish
I never understood that
To me it’s like cannibalism
Species feeding on their species
You don’t see humans eating humans
Except for rare disgusting exceptions
Far as I know animals don’t eat their own kind
Of course, as with cannibal humans,
There could be macabre exceptions.
And I have to wonder why Nature
Didn’t find another way
Instead of birds eating birds
And fish eating fish

Bob Boyd

He sat in a cave in the Himalayas
Meditating day and night
Transcending into the Absolute
The populations of the world
Never heard of him
The hermit in the cave
The unknown sage
The planet knew him
The cosmos as well
As his meditations
And his emanations
Helped to lift
Seekers of the world
And all the good souls
A little closer to heaven

Bob Boyd

She lives the simple life
No greedy gold digging
No need for fancy things
Never went to college
Doesn’t care about
Being intellectual
Or smashing the
Glass ceiling
Isn’t model beautiful
But she smarter than most
And beautiful enough
Most importantly
She has more heart
And more compassion
Than most of those
Who want more
Or have more
And she’s free
Of inflated
self-importance
And vain vanities

Bob Boyd

Mechanical movements
In the beginning.
Fluid as humans
Eventually.
Strong, faster and
Smarter than us
Taking jobs we
Used to do.
But the crucial
Question is
Will they be
Friend or foe.

Bob Boyd

I’m hoping reincarnation isn’t real.
Imagine coming back to life during
A nuclear holocaust.

But I like that reincarnation gives
All lifeforms a chance of liberation,
A chance for an eventual heaven-like
Existence beyond annihilation.

Even a singled-celled amoeba can one
Day evolve to human life and onward
To a cosmic consciousness liberation.

Even your dog or your cat or any of your
Pets would eventually evolve into an
Eternal bliss consciousness.

As for me, I’d rather not reincarnate.
I’d rather evolve to higher life in
The afterlife.

Bob Boyd

He swore off women for the umpteenth time.
He became a card carrying member of MGTOW,
Men Going Their Own Way Without Women.
He purposely avoided contact with them.
He tried to never even look at a woman
Until his pretty neighbor Mary Swanton
Called him Sweetie and touched his arm.
And in that seductive, magical moment
With the stars perfectly aligned,
The oath, the MGTOW, the avoidance
And all the intentions and denials
Vanished, and he found love again.

Bob Boyd

I never finished Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment
A bookworm beat me to it and probably got more out of it
Than I ever did.

I think he’s working on Chekhov now. I’ve read Chekhov
But I’ll bet that damn worm is getting more out of Chekhov
Than I did.

I don’t know why he prefers Russian authors. I guess he
Is a little highbrow and has good taste.

Bob Boyd

Birds flying overhead
In the light of the sun
A marvelous sight
Bats flying at night
Under the moonlight
An unsettling sight
Birds stay away
From humans
Some bats bite

Bob Boyd

My last thought when the vampire bit my jugular vein
And I began to pass out and thought I was going to die.

I came to about an hour later.
I couldn’t believe I was still alive.

But I knew I had been cursed with the vampire virus,
And I hungered for human blood.

Yet somehow I didn’t have it in me to kill another human
Or turn one into a vampire like me.

So I learned to draw my own blood and sate myself on it.

Remembering fictional vampire lore, I decided to look in a mirror
To see if I was there. I wasn’t. Not even a shadow. Not even a trace.

Desperate to try to end the curse, I grabbed the large wooden cross on my wall
And pressed it firmly against my chest and prayed to God
To deliver me from the curse. It didn’t work.

My girlfriend knocked at my door. When I opened it she looked shocked,
Said I looked sick and had a pale, ghoulish complexion.

As I stood there eyeing her jugular vein I became irresistibly driven by a desire
To feed on her rich young blood.

I dastardly mesmerized her rendering her unable to resist my vampiric intentions,
Bit her in the jugular vein and sucked blood out of her.

Curiously, I had no qualms about what I did to her. My conscience had been obliterated.
When my girlfriend came to and displayed her fangs, we went into the night in search of prey.

Bob Boyd

The young moth was a daredevil
He loved flirting with death
To impress the other moths
Particularly the female ones
One night he daringly dive bombed
An old 1985 Buick on Highway 66
Intending to miss it by a moth’s hair
But lost his thrillseeker focus
When a female moth rustled her wings
Flirting with dashing handsome him
And he became moth splatter
On the old Buick’s windshield

Bob Boyd

He used to love hunting, bagging bears and deers
Every exciting hunting season.
Until he saw some of his kills in a nightmare.
Somehow they had guns and shot him in the chest.
He woke up in a cold sweat relieved it was just a dream
Until he suffered a massive heart attack,
Feeling like he had been shotgunned in the chest,
He barely survived the heart attack and never hunted again.

Bob Boyd

As a kid of ten years of age,
He liked working in his father’s little candy store,
Selling candy to adults and children,
Making people happy with delicious sweets.
As an adult of twenty years of age,
He made it big in the movies in Hollywood,
Acted in many starring roles on the silver screen,
Enjoyed entertaining people in the movies and on TV.
Eventually he tired of Hollywood and all the plastic people.
He realized he didn’t belong there and left the bright lights.
He returned to the little town he was born in
And opened his own little candy store.

Bob Boyd

Too late
She realized
She shouldn’t
Have been
Jogging alone
That scary
Half moon
Night

When he
Leaped out
Of the shadows
Grabbed her
Violated her
And killed her

Too late
For her
To ever
Live and
Breath and
Jog again

Bob Boyd

She dreamed she was a butterfly
Dancing in the air above a field of flowers
When she woke up it took a moment
To realize she was really a human
Then as if peering through a telescope
Back ions through time and space
She saw in her mind’s eye
That she had been
A beautiful butterfly
In a former life
And that explained to her why she
Was always so drawn to butterflies
And kept a butterfly farm
And she felt at one with the universe
And all creatures and things

Bob Boyd

She no longer loved him
But she stayed with him
His money was worth it
Despite her loveless
Unfulling marriage
That got old so fast
The money made it last
And last and last
Until he died at 93
And she was 73 and
Became reflective
And cried and cried
And cried over wasting
All those years for money
When in her youth and
With her beauty she
Could have had a shot
At true lasting love

Bob Boyd

He sits alone at his computer,
An old man love has forsaken.
No one knocks at his door.
No one visits him.
No one cares about him.
An introvert, he’s okay
With all of that.
Besides, he is just
Waiting around to die.
Everything else has
Become insignificant
To him in his final years,
Except eating ice cream
And sweet pumpkin pie.

Bob Boyd

The old man takes his daily walk on Washington Street
In New York City
A resident of eighty-four years, he’s saddened by the changes.
The quality of the city has gone down. Crime has gone up.
The Big Apple has had a chunk bitten out of it,
But he thinks to himself at least today is a great day.
The sun is shining, clouds are billowing, and he’s feeling good.
Then BAM a young thug knocks the old man out.
He falls to the street on his head and never gets up.
All his musings. All his memories. And his life. Are done.
And the Big Apple has become a little more rotten to the core.

Bob Boyd