Month: May 2025

Orbs and lights constantly appear.
Glittering particles in the air.
UFOs in night skies.
Shadow people and aliens.
Bigfoot and even stranger cryptids.
Giant creatures reported too.
Supposedly even a dinosaur sighting
that left large reptilian tracks on the farm.
Three toed tracks found as well.
Poltergeist activity, objects moving
through the air.
Invisible entities everywhere.
Some detected with advanced electronic equipment.
Portals, vortexes, interdimensional openings
and hot spots – gateways to good and nasty beings.
Ghosts and sometimes a coolness in the air as well.
Many strange mysterious experiences reported,
the high strangeness of Bradshaw Farm.

Bob Boyd

I was standing on a corner on Broadway in NYC munching on a hot dog with all the trimmings that I just bought from a hot dog vendor.

I saw three werewolves dressed like Shaivite Sadhus.

I had to take a second look to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
I looked again and felt like I was tripping out on a psychedelic drug

But the werewolves were real, and they were dressed like Shaivite Hindu sadhus and even had the Shiva tridents and the requisite dread locks.

But what I found more bizarre was how those sadhu werewolves maintained their werewolfery in the light of day without being supercharged by a full moon.

I could only surmise their god of choice, Lord Shiva, must have used some divine hoodoo and granted them permanent werewolf devotee status.

Whatever the case, you don’t see werewolf sadhus everyday.
But, on second thought, many are the strange sights in big cities.

Bob Boyd

He sneaks into my apartment somehow every now and then, even in the winter with the windows closed and winterized, he still occasionally gets in.

He’s kind of like the magician Houdini, who could break out of almost anything back in the early 1900s, but instead of being an escape artist, he’s a break in artist.

He’s a weird looking critter to say the least. He’ll never win a bug beauty contest for sure.

And he’s sitting here looking at me now probably thinking of me as some weird looking god that’s probably a false god compared to the stink bug deities he worships.

I could end his life in a flash, but he’s a gentle soul who never bites or causes me any trouble.

He’s just sitting on my computer now and he’s got a dreamy look on his face, probably thinking about his latest stink bug girlfriend, been there, know the feeling.

Were he a mosquito, I’d be bitten, and that bug would be taken out in a bug crushing minute.

Unlike the stink bug with whom I’m smitten because of his unique appearance and gentle nature. And in a moment instead of killing him, I will gently coax him onto a piece of paper and release him into the freedom of the night outside my apartment.

I’m sure he’s not gentle with smaller prey, but it is not his fault he’s created to kill to eat.

We may not all do the killing, but we eat smaller things that are killed by others; it’s nature’s way.

Even the vegans are accessories to things killed for their sustenance, like all those innocent vegetables that silently scream when cruelly unrooted from the earthly homes and savagely consumed.

Poor stink bug saddled with a name that stinks. If only when he was named, he could have had a say and chosen a cooler name, like Most Awesome Bug.

Bob Boyd

As innocent as a fresh born babe
and with a deformed face,
my left eye lower than my right,
accused of being a witch,
I denied the claims of witchcraft
at the August 1612 Witches Trial
in Lancaster County, England.
Wrongfully convicted, sentenced to death,
I couldn’t believe I’d come to this.
Shocked by the thought of my life ending so soon,
I passed out before being dragged to my cell.
Days later, I stood below a hanging noose
tied to a thick branch of a tree,
my heart trembling,
tears falling from my downcast eyes.
About to be hung to death,
through my tears I spied my
nine-year-old daughter, Elizabeth Device,
whose false testimony brought me here,
watching from afar in a field.
And I screamed, “God save me!”
before I left this unjust world.

Bob Boyd

The way you wear your hair
The way you smile
The way your voice is uniquely pleasing
The way you are enjoyably mellow
The way your personality is enchanting
The way you are spontaneously funny
The way you have a lovely fashion sense
The way you are always cheerful
And the way you are a delightful person
Who gladdens many hearts
And makes everywhere you are so wonderful.

Bob Boyd

The numbers are
increasing of people claiming
to be Bigfoot Experiencers.

It may be easy to blow
them off as charlatans.

But the more of them
you see and listen to,
you learn some are
highly educated and
seem credible.

And it makes me wonder
if they are all liars and
frauds or if some are
legit.

Along with that, I’ve
seen there are more
people who allege to have
seen this elusive cryptid.

His existence always
seemed laughable to
me.

Though I found him
fascinating as a fictional
character just as I find
fictional werewolves
fascinating.

Now I have to wonder
if there is something to
all these alleged sightings
and self proclaimed
Bigfoot Experiencers.

And if it were real and
safe, I can imagine how
amazing it would to to
not only experience
Bigfoot but to have
indisputable proof that
he is real.

I wouldn’t mind a high
like that in my aging,
less exciting life.

Bob Boyd

Alexis, a high white witch
was hiking with a friend
named Swen in Yosemite
National Park.

A mile into the hike, Swen
screamed as he was sucked
into an invisible, ravenous vortex.

Alexis, having knowledge of
these invisible, predatory vortexes and
having dealt with them before

could see them with her powerful
psychic sight.

She saw Swen trapped in
the Vortex’s spiraling fields of
magnetic energy about to
be devoured.

She pointed her index finger,
that had a magical, obsidian ring
on it, at the mouth of
the vortex.

She shouted SHAREEM, SHAREEM,
SHAREEM, and a sound like thunder
boomed in the air,

as a laser-like, green light
shot out of the ring into the
vortex.

Swen was spit out of the mouth
of the vortex when the green light
struck the vortex like a deadly lightning bolt.

The vortex became enflamed with green fire
that was burning it to death until in a
puff of green smoke the portal was
incinerated out of existence.

After the green light ended the vortex,
it flashed three times and zipped back
into Alexis’s obsidian ring.

And Alexis and Swen continued their hike
on what was otherwise a serene summer day.

Bob Boyd

I don’t know why, but I like the look of human wolf hybrids.
And I’d like to see three of them, like in the song Werewolves of London, strolling with capes, canes and top hats in the bustling streets of London.

That to me would be the coolest sight if you knew they were not harmful and, actually, had charismatic charms and engaging personalities.

But, woe upon woes, the closest I’ve heard of human wolf hybrids, are the dogman sightings in 38 of the 50 states, and they are reported to be threatening and far from charming.

And I cannot stretch my imagination far enough to believe in them.

So I’m sticking with wishing fictional, cool werewolves were real.

And for me a better choice than believing in the lesser dogmen, alleged to be real and howling all over the U S of A.

Bob Boyd

i used to believe in reincarnation

but now i am not so sure

i think my fanciful thinking began in my early twenties when i for unclear reasons

thought i had been a cave dweller and an english lord in former lives

then after a profound meditation initiation i felt i had come home and been a hindu monk in a former life

that fanciful idea may have been closer to reality than the others
because i took to hindu meditation practices and philosophies with tremendous zeal

and had experiences that seemed to bear that belief out

but now i have my doubts about reincarnation being real contrary to claims of people who say they know they lived former lives

and they might be right

but i have no desire to return to this life

i could return into a horrible world on the cusp of a nuclear holocaust or some other horrific happening

and i once read that when you died you had a choice to advance
spiritually in the afterlife or return to the school for souls on earth

i liked the idea of having a choice

but odds are what i read about the choice was nonsense

but getting back to the transmigration of souls

romantic fool that i can be

without hesitation i would come back to this life for a true and lasting love that somehow i knew was destined to be my forever soulmate

and for her love i would willingly be born into a nuclear holocaust just to find her and be with her

bob boyd

First time I heard the saying, the
heart knows what it wants. I liked
it. It sounded mystically romantic
to me.

As if the heart was a separate entity
capable of making romantic choices
superior to the mind’s wants

But, alas, the heart may know what
it wants, but as many relationships
bear out,

what the heart wants may not
always be good for a person’s
peace of mind.

In some cases not good for a
person’s life.

My heart has led me astray a number
of times causing me to not listen to
my mind and make less than ideal
choices.

I recall my heart wanting a beautiful
blonde haired women with a sweet
Southern accent, who lived far away
from me

and leaving a good job and moving
hundreds of miles away to be with her

because my heart wanted true love
more than a job.

And my heart told me I could always
find another job, and true love was
more important, and you don’t get
opportunities for real love as often
as you can find a job.

In the end the blonde haired
Southern beauty stole money out
of my ATM machine and was

writing romantic letters to some
married guy, and my heart had
led me astray.

And what my heart had wanted
kind of made a fool out of me.

Perhaps for you what your heart
wanted worked out, but maybe you
have a smarter heart than I
do.

And, probably, more accurately,
better intuition about matters
concerning the heart.

Bob Boyd