Month: January 2025

You are old,
pushing 80.
You are alone
without love
and you think
you’d like to
find a woman
to cherish and
love.

But try as much
as you will
to hide the fact
the sword of
Democoles
hangs over any
old couples love
you could find,
even if you
could find any
love, pushing 80,

You know that
death will be
racing toward
both of you
with misery
on its heels
for one of you.

Bob Boyd

I hear the leaves running on the street beside me
as I walk along the sidewalk.
At least that’s the way it appears, courtesy
of the rambling wind tonight.
It surprises me that in the near end of my life
my senses seem to have evolved
into a higher perception of the world around me.
It’s as if I’ve been given unexpected sense
along with the wisdom of aging.
Maybe tomorrow, I’ll hear and understand
the whisperings of the wind and
the murmurers of the leaves.

Bob Boyd

Maria Marten (1801-1827)
suffered a tragic life.
An attractive woman
she just wanted love
and a caring husband.
Had children with 2 suitors
Both refused to wed her.

At 24, she met William Condor,
who seemed a gentleman.
He promised to marry her
instead he shot her to death
in the infamous Red Barn
and fled to another city
pretending to her family
that she was with him and well.

Maria’s family got suspicious
when she hadn’t written them
Cordor kept making excuses
for her lack of correspondence
until Maria’s mother saw Maria
in a dream saying she was dead
and her body was in the Red Barn.

Sadly, the dream proved true
and Maria’s body was found,
as was William Condor who
was captured and hung on
the gallows, August 11, 1824.

Bob Boyd

He wasn’t prepared
for the death of his wife.
He thought their love
would last on earth
forever and ever.

He forgot or didn’t
want to face the fact
that love and lovers
die sooner or later
in this fleeting life.

Now he spends his
days crying streams
of salty tears and
having imaginary
heartrending
conversations
with his dead wife

and sends prayers
to the highest heavens
with the tearful hope
he’ll see her again
when he follows her
into the Great Unknown.

Bob Boyd

When the birds stop singing
and the bugs go silent
get the hell out of the woods.

Bob Boyd

Strumming his guitar and
singing through the years
he never lived his big dream
of being a superstar rockstar
paid the dues over and over
did many disagreeable gigs
in beer-stained unsavory bars

They told him he was better
than the singers on the radio
he had more than it takes
to sing hit songs on Billboard
yet he never got the big break
and had no choice but to
squander his promising talent
singing at small parties and
low paying Holiday Inn gigs
to barely make enough money
to pay his rent and his bills.

Bob Boyd

Hurling through the universe in a rocket
with not much room for the living quarters
stuffed in such a small environment
amazing how astronauts can survive
compressed in such a suffocating space
I think many people would be claustrophobic
and fearful of the enormity of infinity
and feel trapped in that speeding projectile
praying everything would work right
instead of an equipment failure
and be lost forever in outer space

Bob Boyd

The sun is about 93 million miles
from the earth,
yet it seems so much closer
when it illuminates the
earth each day.
And for a light source
being so far away,
it sure can make you burn.

Bob Boyd

I watch the wind blowing leaves in a circle.
The leaves look they’re kids having fun
giggling and chasing each other in circles.
Round and round and round they go
like a merry-go-round of whirling leaves
instead of plastic or fiberglass horses.
And I wonder how I missed such marvels
of nature when I was in the work world.

Bob Boyd

I remember when the USA news never showed
beautiful Russian women on TV.

All we saw were old women babushkas,
which gave the impression
there were no beautiful women in Russia.

As an unworldly, young guy, I believed that
until when I was working in jewelry store in Chicago
a beautiful Russian woman strolled through the doors
and bought some jewelry from me.

I was stunned. I thought she was a Russian anomaly among all the
unattractive Russian women.

Then the Iron Curtain fell and the news began
showing Russian supermodels on the news
gracing cat walks in Paris, London and Milan,
as if with a wave of a wand,
magically Russian babushkas morphed into beautiful women.

Now I think the government propagandists
were afraid if American men
got even fleeting glimpses of
how mind blowingly beautiful Russian women were
we would have all defected to Russia
driven mad by their siren like beauty
desperately hoping to win the love of one.

Bob Boyd