Day: May 29, 2025

When you’re a man and you meet an amazing woman you never knew before who is attracted to you and you to her and love ensues

it’s kind of like a miraculous event in this often lackluster life,
nearly as miraculous as a holy man parting a sea.

It’s as if you’ve been favored by the angels in heaven with one of their very own sent by them to be with you.

And magically, your life is filled with inexpressive joy and elated feelings you never had or hadn’t had in a long time.

The first time she smiles at you the wattage in her smile nearly makes you swoon when you experience it.

When she first looks into your eyes lovingly, it’s like you’ve the luckiest man in the world to have her look at you that way.

It’s close to a miracle this beautiful living being has come to be with you.
You might even worry that you’re not worthy of her, and you’re probably not.

But fortune is with you. She’s into you despite your quirks and flaws,
and it’s as if this amazing woman materialized out of the ethers into your blessed life.

Bob Boyd

Sends out pulses of radio waves and X-rays.
Might be a new cosmic object.

YASKAP J1832-0911

I was hoping it was a possible alien signal trying to make contact in space.

But, alas, the scientists say this:

“This discovery could indicate a new type of physics or new models of stellar evolution.”

I don’t understand the rest of the astronomy lingo, that is deeper in the article.

But I understand enough to see it’s not an exciting alien contact.

Maybe that’s not a bad thing.

Stephen Hawking once said, to paraphrase, be careful what you wish for when trying to contact aliens.

Bob Boyd

I’ve never understood women who write
love letters to serial killers in prison.

Do these women have death wishes?
Are they psychologically screwed up?

Have they no compassion for the usually women
these monsters torture, rape and murder?

Though women on the outside, are they
like those twisted monsters on the inside?

I don’t understand their attraction to such demonic infamy.
I can only conclude they are in dire need of psychological help.

Bob Boyd

Easily controlled
easily led
easily manipulated
believe propaganda
they’re spoon fed
never challenge
the narrative
no matter how
ridiculous
implausible
or harmful
sometimes their
blind obedience
is dangerous
consider Hitler’s
manipulated minions

Bob Boyd

full moons always screw with me,
mess with my brain, misfire synapses.
spontaneous reckless choices
set me up with moon beam troubles.

stay in full moon nights. once badly beamed
twice shy and only fool me once.

hide inside protective tin hat on head;
garish crucifix around neck.
holy water sprinkled.

never watch YouTube videos with moons.
you may think I’m nuts for what I do.
me under full moons I would be.

frantic loud knocks on my door sweet girly voice,
“help me please help me I’m dying of thirst.”

goth woman maybe 22 that dark eye makeup,
kind of scary looking in morgue black clothes.
obscene dental work, fanged teeth.
everything pierced on her face.
disturbing horror movie smile.

“could I you give me a drink of water,” she said.

trickster full moon clouded my mind.
forgot to be wary of strangers,
especially vampiric-looking ones.

you know how they always say
trust your instincts listen to that small
voice inside of you when it says
something like MAYDAY! MAYDAY!

because of those damn full moon
beams my instincts and small
voice offline needed a reboot.
forgot how to do because
transformed into mindless lunar loon.

turned my back to get her a glass of water.
good deed punished, goth girl had gun.
shot banged loudly, bullet in my back.
passed me out losing a lot of blood, life exiting.

goth girl rummaged my apartment stole all my goods
and my beloved 2001 Dodge Ram pick up truck.

ex girlfriend neighbor heard shot.
despite nasty break up still had a heart.

drove me to the ER a few minutes up the street.
me close to dead bleeding on car’s upholstery
mumbled an I’m sorry before passing out.

died on the examination table temporarily.
rose out of my clinically dead body.
astral traveled to the moon, kicked its ass.

okay I’ll admit it, hallucinating but when the paddles
slammed me back to life damn It felt real,
like sweet revenge on the moon.

the murderous evil goth girl totaled my ram.
head on into a garbage truck on highway 666,
probably drugged up and maybe it was justice.

unlike me clinically, her terminally dead,
presumably woke up in a dark goth hell.

I miss my truck.

Bob Boyd

She lived a happy caring life.
Everybody loved her ways.
Never an unkind word.
Never an intended hurt.

She became a social worker,
Helping many in need,
Her life’s work Service.

She married a good man,
Had three little children,
Attended a Baptist Church
Every Sunday with her family.
Delivered meals to shut ins.

After the Church Services
Late one foreboding night,
She ran an errand at
A 24 hour supermarket.

She had a troubling feeling she
Shouldn’t be out so late
That night but she ignored it.
A lurking apex serial killer
Captured her in his weaved web.

Tortured her unmercifully
For many hellish hours,
Her pleas for mercy,
Her screams unheard.
He killed her slowly
Savored her every whimper.

He did many unspeaking things
To her torn and bruised corpse.
And threw her bagged remains
Into the depths of Clinton Lake.

By luck and maybe providence
Divers found her soaked parts.
The killer remained a mystery.
Years passed never caught.

And church members cried and
Wondered how God could let
Such a heinous thing happen
To such a wonderful woman.
And so do I.

Bob Boyd