A Contemplation on Bigfoot

Many have been trying been to unravel
the Bigfoot mystery for many years,
seemingly with no solid proofs
of this mysterious creatures
existence.

As an armchair speculator,
I’ve come to the conclusion
that Bigfoot is interdimensional
since he’s uncannily elusive and
vanishes when scared hunters
take frightened shots at him.

And that could explain why there
are no corpses or scat left behind
in the 75,000 alleged sightings of him.

Imagine if Bigfoot were interdimensional
and more evolved than us.

Imagine if Bigfoot lived in a
Shangri La-like dimension
and when not playing hide seek
with astonished humans to prank
them and enjoy a few chuckles
between his vanishing acts and
his forays into our material world
and whatever else preoccupies
his transcendent existence.

Imagine if Bigfoot were a perennial
free spirit living his best life
leapfrogging from one dimension
to another, carefree and liberated
from the constraints and worries
of lesser, restricted human lives.

Bob Boyd

Ex-wife Night Hag

While having an otherwise peaceful sleep
a night hag froze and frightened him.

Trapped, unable to move, he tried to
panic himself into the waking state.

He failed as the night hag became
more menacing and drew closer
to him.

To make things worse, the night hag
looked exactly like his dead ex-wife.

Then an idea popped into his mind
and he mentally made
the sign of the cross.

And poof, the night hag aka his ex
dissolved back into the darkness
and he woke up and

gave his wife’s bullet-ridden corpse
a proper burial from the freezer
in his ceiler to a secret plot
hidden behind some flowers
in their backyard.

Bob Boyd

Duality and Non-Duality

The Hare Krishnas say Krishnaloka is where you
Need to go after you die, if you can get there.
It takes a lot of chanting Hare Krishnas to get there
And probably the right incarnation and the right karma.

Christians say heaven with Jesus is where you
Need to go after you die, if you can get there,
If you can avoid the snares of Satan’s hell
And probably pray enough and be good enough.

Imagine if they were both right. Imagine if
There were multiple afterlife paradises
Depending on what religion or path you followed.

Imagine if the non-dualists were right, and
You had to get beyond all these dualities
And merge into the infinite Oneness.

Bob Boyd

Full Moon Night

I hear the werewolf howling at my door
I yell back at her, “I can’t do this anymore.”
I’m not terrified as I should be because
Even though she’s a werewolf tonight,
Even though she’s a horrifying beast,
She still loves and respects me
And won’t break in and kill me.
I thought my total love for her
Was more than strong enough
To face the worst of challenges.
But after she got bit by a werewolf
And became a moon-triggered monster
And killed seven people and a little girl
I could no longer be yoked to her.
She asked me to become like her
To ensure we’d always be together.
But though I still loved her despite
The monster she had become,
I had to get away from her
And her killing sprees.
But she’s not giving up
On me or our love,
And she visits me
Every full moon night.

Bob Boyd

A Song About A Guy Who Can’t Fight a Feeling

The singer in the song I’m listening to
is singing about how he “can’t fight
this feeling anymore” because he,
for whatever reasons, is fighting
against falling in love.

I conjecture that maybe he’s been
hurt one time too many or fears
losing what he sees as a loss
of his freedom.

Whatever the case that song,
Can’t Fight This Feeling by
REO Speedway is one of
my all time favorites

Then he sings that the woman
he is becoming increasingly enamored
with is like a candle in the window
in what seems like his toughest times.

And I realize I’ve forgotten about
fighting those feelings, as if they’re
dead, waked, and buried in a
graveyard of forgotten memories
in the depths of this old man’s head.

But I let those feelings pass by
in the rivers of thoughts and
speculations that flow
profusely through my ever
thinking and imaginative mind.

And I finish this poem listening to
another guy singing about
how he “just doesn’t want
to be lonely.”

Bob Boyd

From a Beautiful Actress to an Unrecognizable Homeless Woman

From a Beautiful Actress to an Unrecognizable Homeless Woman

I read in the news about this woman who had
been a beautiful actress in a popular tv show,

but now roams the streets homeless, disheveled
and pushing a shopping cart full of items
she finds in dumpsters.

And I wonder what caused her to fall so hard.
I think in the news the fall was due to drugs,

but I have to wonder if a mental health issue
led to her awful demise along with the drugs.

It concerns me that there seems to be
no help for her. No one to intervene and
save her from the streets

and the horrible things that could happen
to her in such a vulnerable state,
and it saddens me to see she has
such a tragic, horrible fate
and seems totally abandoned.

I guess it comes down to free will
even if your will is compromised
and you’re putting yourself in jeopardy.

I find that heartbreakingly sad
and I wish I could wave a magic wand
and save her and probably thousands
upon thousands of others from
being seemingly abandoned in the streets.

Bob Boyd

Ambrose Davenport, Preacher (1813-1873)

I was like the Prince of Darkness in a preacher’s robe,
A traveling preacher in the northeast of America.
I did the Lord’s work seven days a week,
Turning lost souls into believers,
Saved them all for the glory of God.
I did the Devil’s work at other times,
stabbing many unwary women to death.

I brought hundreds of people to God,
Ended fifty women’s lives for the Devil.
I had no problem with the contradictory life.
My conscience didn’t care about the infamy.
I was a clever fiend, never got caught,
And I savored all those sweet kills,
Starting with neighbors’ pets as a child.

I died of a massive heart attack in 1873,
Which was ironic, heartless as I was.

When I knocked on heaven’s door
I thought God would forgive my murderous sins
Because of all those lost souls I saved for him.
And after all, I reasoned, he had made
Me into the half holy half unholy thing,
Preacher monster killer that I was.

But nobody answered heaven’s door
Even though disembodied I’d changed.
I lost my compulsion to sinfully kill.
The preacher in me took completely over.
And even though I worked for Satan some,
I didn’t want to go to his world of torments.

So in my ghostly form I roam the world
From church to church praying and confessing
With the hope of enough sincere atonement
Heaven’s door will eventually open to me.

Bob Boyd

Jackson Brown’s Song, “Somebody’s Baby” and You

Jackson Brown’s Song, “Somebody’s Baby” and You

“Well, just look at that girl with the light coming up in her eyes.”
(From the song Somebody’s Baby, sung by Jackson Brown, 1982)

If you are a woman reading this poem here and now,
whether you are seventeen or seventy-seven, or older,
this heartfelt poem is dedicated to you along with
the song lyric about the lights coming up in her eyes.
I believe no matter your age or your trials or your situations those wondrous womanly lights are still coming up in you.

And if you’re seventy-seven, gray-haired, or older,
and those lights are no longer shining as bright as they were in your younger seasons and yesteryears —

I’ve no doubt those lights are still in you and will brighten again with your ultimate liberation into the sunlit afterlife where you will be born anew, resplendently blooming, like sunflowers reborn gloriously in the springtime sunshine

And if you are seventeen, oh how those lights shine in your eyes.
Oh how they are so amazingly fresh and radiantly bright.
I hope no matter what you face in this uncertain, complicated life those lights never go out and keep coming up in you.

Bob Boyd

Cosmic Christos

Christos.
The omnipresent.
The omniscient.
The omnipotent.
The unfathomable.
At the core of everything, the planets, the cosmos
The fields, the flowers, the streams,
The rivers, the seas, the skies, the clouds
In all things, in all creatures
In this life, in the next
In death, you will see Christos
White Light brighter
Than the blazing sun
Unconditional Love beyond
Any love you ever experienced
Any love you could ever imagine
The earthbound life you leave
Will dissolve blissfully
In the everlasting brilliance
Of His infinite love
For you and for all creation
In your real home
The eternally blissful
Presence of Christos.
The omnipresent.
The omniscient.
The omnipotent.
The unfathomable.

Bob Boyd

A Quadruple Amputee in Kentucky

If I could have a
face to face
with God, these
are some of the
questions I’d ask
Him:

Why are some
born into the world
fated with
tormented lives
of mental illness?

Why are some
children barely
out of the womb
stricken with
cancer?

Why do we have
to have
psychopaths and
sociopaths in
this world?

Why wars
murders galore
rapists and
pedophiles
and evil
everywhere?

And why did a
beautiful wife
and mother in
Kentucky her arms
and legs cut off from
a kidney infection
have to suffer such
a horrible fate?

And how could
this inspirational
woman say, “If one
person can see
God from all of this,
that made it all
worth it”?

Then I’d say
forget about the
questions
pray make me
as saintly as she.

Bob Boyd

A Powerful Spiritual Master

I must have been in my late twenties or early thirties
strolling in Harvard Square in Massachusetts.
I saw a flyer for a group meditation open to the public
at Harvard U. at 7 pm on a Thursday night.

A fervent seeker with years of meditation experience
and spiritual experiences, well read on various
eastern and western spiritual paths, I had to attend
that group meditation. I had to see what it was all about.

I met a tall blond-haired guy there named Woody, a kindred soul. I said, “Where is the guru?” He said, “He’s in Europe, but at 7 pm he will meditate on us and you will feel his powerful presence.”

I looked at the guru’s photo between two flickering candles. His mystical eyes suggested he was in an enlightened state of consciousness.

But, I wondered if anything would happen at 7 pm, or if it was all just a bogus power of suggestion and nothing more.

The guru was punctual. At 7 pm KABOOM! the room got blasted with phenomenal, powerful beyond belief, spiritual energy. I was blitzed out and blown away from the cosmic energy lighting up the room.

I’d felt this kind of a guru’s spiritual energy before. In Hinduism it’s called the guru’s darshan, but this was something more. This was like something utterly miraculous.

His followers at the group meditation told me their guru meditated on them at night and they’d awake feeling his spiritual energy blasting into them.

The purpose of the powerful spiritual energy infusions was to aid them in their quest to attain sat chit ananda, eternal bliss consciousness, courtesy of the guru’s uber potent spiritual energy transmissions.

I attended those group meditations a few more times, the results the same, my consciousness elevated into the stratosphere.

I brought friends there who had never meditated. They got blissed out too.

I meditated on the guru’s photo once and saw him in a dream where he tapped me on the head, as if he were anointing me to become a student of his.

I never became a follower of this guru, which may surprise you given the phenomenal, transcendent experiences I had at those group meditations.

His path required celibacy and as a romantic, I felt that deprivation was entirely unnecessary and possibly harmful.

Ironically, years later, that guru became enmeshed in sexual scandals, diddling female followers, disgracing himself, as many of those gurus from the east did so wantonly and surprisingly.

I remember reading in their Vedas something like this: “Sin will avoid an enlightened being, like deer avoid a burning mountain top.”

Based on the actions of many allegedly enlightened gurus, this just wasn’t true or many of them, though powerful, were either unenlightened or tragically flawed despite their higher states of consciousness. Some of them acted like full-blown lunatics. Think cults.

After reading and hearing about so many of these gurus falling like disembodied flies from grace, I eventually left the east and came to believe a single act of compassion is more important than most of the spiritual experiences on the planet, as I still believe decades later and to this very day, this very moment.

Bob Boyd

The Bear Whisperer

I used to be a Bear Whisperer, one of the best
I charmed bears from coast to coast
Just a well-timed whisper or two
And like lions lying down with lambs
Ferocious Bears became teddy bears.
My fame reached almost everywhere;
On radio and TV shows a regular guest.

Became a traveling international celeb
Even tamed exotic Scandinavian bears
In Siberia whispered to Russian ones.
Some said the fame spread to my head
And I became too bigheaded for my own good.

A Ursus americanus in the Rocky Mountains
Growled, charged, and like a wrestling pro
Clotheslined me to the hard mountain ground
And nearly made me his bear whispering dinner.
A park ranger’s warning shot and he sped.

Wasn’t a rookie near-fatal fault on my part.
The bear was hearing impaired and
I couldn’t whisper sign language.

Bob Boyd

An American Dissident and Thailand’s Article 112, Lese-majeste

A troublemaker, he hated America, and
in his turbulent college days started
protested against its policies in the streets
despite living a privileged free world life
and spoiled by his wealthy parents.

Fed up, done with, capitalistic America,
he left the county when a politician
he hated got voted president.

Disgusted, he renounced America.
As a dissident, moved to Thailand
for what he felt was a paradise with
exciting bars full of hot, exotic women
and nothing to get outraged about.

After living there a year, in a crowded bar
he got recklessly drunk and said to some
Thais that he thought the king of Thailand
was a pompous jackass who just sucked
on the tit of taxpayer money.

The next day he got arrested for
Article 112, Lese-majeste, and now
he sits in a Thai prison for twenty
years for foolishly insulting their king.

Bob Boyd

Highway 666

She said what crawled up his butt and died
But what crawled up his butt was still alive
when he learned she had committed a faux pas suicide
by cheating on him with one Mr. Dobson
who used to live in the apartment next to theirs
until he unexpectedly moved to the Glenview cemetery
where she was soon to take up residence
after the police found her corpse with fifty stab wounds
and didn’t find her person of interest psycho husband
until he turned up dead with a bullet through his head,
a self inflicted Smith&Wesson suicide on highway 666.

Bob Boyd

The Reincarnation Refinement of Souls

Imagine if reincarnation is real
Imagine if we come back to each life
like an actor playing different roles
a good person one life
a bad person the next
in another incarnation
a composite of the two
the different roles
each repeating life
to sort of balance and ready us
to be refined enough
to eventually achieve
to finally attain
a perfect eternal liberation
from this refinement of souls
this repeating life

Bob Boyd

A Microcosm of Humanity in a Fish Tank

Watching the Rasbora fish
in my ten gallon aquarium,
I’m seeing a microcosm of humanity:

Some of the Rasboras get along
and seem like friends.

Some dislike each other
and have occasional spats.

Some of them hate each other
and get into territorial wars.

Some of them seem to fall in love.
and mate and have fish kids.

Most of them just want to get along
and go swimmingly about their daily business.

Bob Boyd

It’s Christ or the Highway to Hell

When I was a teenager, a Christian teenager
befriended me.

But his friendship was counterfeit.
He just wanted to convert me to his particular
brand of Christianity.

He said if you don’t go with Jesus,
you go to hell.

I wasn’t a deep thinker as a teenager.
I was superficial, rebellious and trouble.

But I must have had some good sense
and maybe a budding intellect.

I said to him, “What if natives on an island,
never saw a missionary or heard of Christ,
do they go to hell out of ignorance?”

Though I’m a Believer of sorts, minus
the dogma and a disbelief in hell,
and a contemplative rather than a
follower of rules I don’t agree with.

And I still don’t believe a loving God would
ever eternally damn anyone.
And I don’t believe the Lord of the Universe
is so limited that there’s only one way,
as many claim there is without even
a scintilla of concrete proof.

I believe as the Sufis believe: “There are
as many paths to God as humans have souls.”
That seems logical to me.

Bob Boyd

The Veterinarian Who Hired a Hitman to Kill Her Ex-husband

She was a veterinarian beloved by her clients,
taking care of their pets and animals needs,
a good citizen never involved in anything shady

She meets an unscrupulous, egotistical doctor,
a shyster who thinks he’s a Don Juan incarnate.
At first she sees through his obvious game
and blatant character defects … but,
for reasons oblivious to me,
she ignores her initial assessment
and falls in love with him.

Her involvement with him becomes the worst
mistake of her seemingly unblemished life.

He has an ex-girlfriend who’s taking him to court
for stalking and harassing her repeatedly.
She has an ex-husband who is taking her to court
for custody of their two children.

Somewhere in the mix of these two impending
court cases, Doctor Evil talks the veterinarian into
hiring a hitman to solve these two problems.

Get this. She freakin’ agrees to it.
Can you imagine?
What the hell was she thinking?
How could that evil SOB talk her into becoming
hellishly evil when she had always been
a good and caring citizen taking care of
and healing pets and animals?

They meet with the hitman, who as often is
the case, is an undercover cop.
They get arrested and get bailed.

Probably ashamed and wondering how
did she let herself get dragged down by that
evil SOB, she takes an elevator to the
top of a tall building and jumps off to her death.

I think to myself, if only she had stayed on
course with her initial assessment when the
red flags were flying all around her.
But sometimes love is stronger than
reason and many are those who make dire
or, at the least, foolish mistakes because of it.
This I know from experience.

Bob Boyd

Lovers in Murder and Being Worth More Dead Than Alive

I’ve seen it many times in true crime shows,
a man and a woman in love who plot to murder
the woman’s husband and go through with it,
and their bond is so unbreakable that they
are willing to kill and risk their freedom for it
until they get caught and the heat is on,
and they testify against each other with the
hope of getting lighter sentences.

Or, if miraculously lucky, one of them
succeeding at faking being an innocent
victim in the murder instead of a
co-conspirator and turning his or
her back on their homicidal act of
twisted and evil love with the
hope of avoiding a life sentence.

Usually these homicides are engineered
by the wife, who tells her paramour that
her husband his been physically abusive
to her or sexually abused their kids.
The duped male dumbed down by love
falls for the ploy and kills an innocent man
and gets jilted in court and goes to jail
for a murder and a counterfeit love.

I don’t know about you, but if I were with
a woman who suggested I kill her husband
for her despite whatever bait she dangled
in front of me, I’d bid that wicked woman
goodbye and be forever off the hook.

And were I a guy foolish enough to consider it,
I’d be thinking if she could have him killed,
I could be next, and I’d make damn sure
I didn’t have an insurance policy with
her as a beneficiary that would make me
worth far more ($$$$$$) dead than alive.

Bob Boyd

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