Month: May 2025

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

I didn’t know what a superplume was before I read a scientific article
and I’m no scientist. I just have a little interest in unusual scientific things.

The superplume “is a massive upwelling of hot, partially molten rock from deep within the Earth.” My thanks to Duckduckgo’s AI Assist for that simplified definition.

According to the article, scientists believe the superplume is cause a massive
increase in volcanic activity that is ripping Africa apart.

This makes me wonder what would be in the middle if Africa were torn apart,
and God Almighty, would people in Africa be somehow about to get out of the way of that catastrophe, were it to happen?

To me, it sounds impossible that an entire country could be ripped apart,
but stranger things have happened in this ever changing world.

And I’m surprised we haven’t had another mass extinction event yet. The last one happened 66 million years ago, and supposedly there have been from 5 to 20 as far back as scientists can report.

Bob Boyd

I was a dog before I died
And learned to my delight
I was going to be a human
In my next incarnation.

My soul beamed with joy
When about to be reborn
As Howard Cassidy in
An idyllic Idaho town.

At first, my human life
Was fun and exciting
Until I was diagnosed with
Incurable chronic depression,
And I began taking drugs
To blot out the dark despair.

From there on I had a lousy life,
Hopeless days, sleepless nights,
Homeless, ragged and hurting,
Begging in the streets,
Died of a drug overdose.

In the afterlife I asked God
Why I had to have such
A lousy human life when
I thought I’d got an upgrade

I was told telepathically
In my life as a dog
I’d been a bad dog,
Bit too many people,
Killed too many cats.
Had to pay ofF my
Karmic debt with that
Lousy human life

I lost my temper,
Called God a dick,
Pissed him off.
For that sacrilege,
That unholy disrespect.
He sent me back to life
As a hissing cockroach.

Bob Boyd

Drunk, begging for money
Unwashed and stinking
How did I get reduced to this?
In abandoned youth
Drank to joyful excesses
Knowing alcoholism
Never a problem,
Just a fashionable pastime
Among my twenties peers,
Just an obligatory
Passage of youth.
Now a fifties failure
Lost jobs, broken marriages
Homeless and hurting.

Bob Boyd

I kind of wish we could have worked out
despite me leaving you.

And I hope since you are no longer on
this earth you’re in a place like heaven.

And that maybe somehow through the
ethers you can read this message.

I truly believe that is possible. I believe
the deceased sometimes can feel

when someone is writing something
to or about them.

And I have what I feel are concrete
reasons for believing that.

I wish I hadn’t been an introvert and
you an extrovert that became more

interested in being out with your
friends than maintaining our love.

And though I had to leave you,
unable to cope with the loneliness,

and because you were never going
to change,

I felt bad for you when you called me
once in a while throughout the years

hoping that maybe we could get back
together again for another try.

I wasn’t being mean or spiteful when
I could never go back to loving you.

When my heart is broken by someone,
I just cannot take the risk of that

person breaking it again no matter how
contrite she seems or says she’s changed.

I just can’t do it.

But I was sad to hear of when you
died in your fifties decades ago,

and I hope you went to a better place
where death was a doorway to a

glorious life for you, and maybe we’ll
meet again when I go through that doorway too.

Bob

Some women are born without the pretty faces
or the alluring bodies that attract men.

They’re never asked to dance at high school
dances, and they might be called nasty names

by mean high school boys who find them
unattractive.

And these women may never find love
their entire lives

and go to the grave never having married
or been loved by a man.

Why does life have to be like this? Why do
some women have all the advantages and
some none when it comes to looks and love?

If reincarnation exists, maybe women who
are beautiful in one life are unattractive in
their next lives to sort of balance their
karma out for greater spiritual growth.

Or maybe it’s an unfair luck of the draw
whether a woman is born attractive or not.

Fortunately, some women who are unappealing
to men on the outside are beautifully alluring
on the inside and find love.

But, alas, I cannot imagine how sad it must be
for a woman to realize she wasn’t born pretty like
other women and may never experience romantic
love.

And I find the unfairness of that so goddamn tragic.

Bob Boyd

Imagine if like larger animals preying on
smaller animals in nature, there were
unstoppable interdimensional apex
predators preying on the humans that
vanish mysteriously in national parks
leaving no clues behind.

Imagine if in a millisecond, they could
appear in this dimension and invisibly
snatch a human out of it before the
human could scream or shout and
drag the human into another dimension.

Imagine if they invisibly roamed national
parks seeking human prey like big animals
roam forests seeking small animal prey.

Unfortunately, I think that might be plausible
considering how these humans vanish with
no footprints that trackers can follow
and no scents that search dogs can track.

The other plausibility is that aliens moving
silently in and out of dimensions are
abducting these missing 411s.

Whatever the case it’s mysterious and
frightening, and the numbers of missing
411s are staggering.

Bob Boyd

Matthew Hopkins 1600s Witch Hunter
Proclaimed Witch Hunter General
Superstar status sending scores of
Innocent man and women to the gallows
Using forbidden torture and heinous trickery
Turned witch hunting into lucrative enterprise
Incentivized to find and hang more innocents
The elderly often easy marks and easy money
People in towns and villages didn’t mind the killings
Social cleansing of those they didn’t like or need
Eventually the costs became Hopkins undoing
Taxes raised too high to pay for his infamy
Demand for his costly skills evaporated
1647 the Witch Hunter General died
Probably of a disease like tuberculosis
Never taken to task for the deaths
Of 100 innocent people. More’s the pity.

Bob Boyd

Be still my beating heart,
she’s reading my poems again.

I can’t believe this princess among
women has graced me with her
presence once again.

Surely I’ve been favored by angels
in heaven and even by God above
that this loveliest of all women is
reading the words I crafted for her.

Of course, I’m just imagining this
and you may have believed it was real,
but I’m an imaginative man with many
imaginative scenarios running endlessly
through my expansive mind.

And I kinda liked the idea of a guy being
able to feel the presence of a most special
woman reading his poems on his blog,
like a supernatural romantic thing.

Bob Boyd

Why dogs are often better
than romantic partners?

Let me show you the ways:

There’s no deceit in a dog.

Dogs won’t leave you or
break your heart.

A dog’s love for you will
never wane, a romantic
partner’s love will. They
may still love you, but
it’s not the same as when
they first fell in love with
you.

If for some reason you
and the dog’s relationship
doesn’t work out, the dog
won’t take you to court
and demand alimony.

Whether you are away
from a dog for minutes or
days, you will get the
same amount of excitement
when the dog sees you.

No way will you get that
consistency from a romantic
partner.

A dog will never say an
unkind word or, worse, swear
at you.

A dog will never bad
mouth you to neighbors or
coworkers, as some romantic
partners do.

Last, no matter how great
your relationship with your
romantic partner is, it will
never compare to the
unconditional love of a dog.

Bob Boyd

I never worried about getting cancer.
I was convinced I’d never get it.
No cancer in my family,
didn’t smoke, drink or do drugs,
rarely ate red meat, worked out
and walked daily for decades.

So when I was diagnosed with the
killer C, it was a surprise to me.

But, what was more surprising to me,
is when I got the dreadful news,
I was immediately resigned to it.

I didn’t become stressed out. It
was like this: often the fear of
something is worse than when
that something happens.

And even more surprisingly, I just
didn’t care, as if I’d somehow been
given a Zen attitude about it.

In some ways I actually enjoyed it.

Because I like gaining new knowledge,
I enjoyed seeing how all the tests and
procedures worked.

I enjoyed the various tests and even
the cancer infusions I took weekly.

Prior to the cancer, I hated hospitals,
and feared seeing doctors.

After the cancer, I loved hospitals
for the lives hospital workers save,
the people they heal, and those
they help get well or enable to live
with chronic illnesses.

And I lost my fear of seeing doctors
and came to appreciate them as well.

I really appreciated the nurses
in the cancer infusion room.

I had fun kidding with them and
they with me. I even wrote a poem
about them:

Earth Angels
By Bob Boyd

Dedicated earth angels helping the sick
Despite hard hours remaining angelic
Compassionately saving lives from dying
Never giving up on you, always trying
To heal your body with saintlike tenderness
Using precision, care, and benevolence
As surely as there is a number seven
There’s a special place for nurses in heaven.

And unanticipated by me, that first poem
I wrote led to me writing over 2,000 poems
to date.

And I plan to write thousands more,
despite not having had an interest in writing
poetry, and not having read much poetry
before the cancer.

Best of all, I gained enormous personal and spiritual
growth from the cancer, and I’m grateful I had it
and that I survived it.

Bob Boyd

You say the mad hatter title says she’s most likely
bat crap crazy.

I say one man’s crazy is another man’s endearing
eccentricity.

I say the heart sign she makes with her fingers in the photo suggests a lot of love and loads of compassion.

Furthermore, the mad hatter in her says to me she’s enchanting, whimsical, fascinating, and tons of fun.

I think I’m in love.

Bob Boyd

To the people of the commonplace world,
with minds narrow as a razor’s edge,
who know nothing of real true love,
she was only a plastic blow up doll,
a poor imitation of the real thing.
But she was his Venus in plastic,
his beautiful inflatable goddess,
and he loved her beyond measure.
And oh how she listened to him,
hung on to his every word.
And oh how she was always there
for him anytime day or night.
And she never cheated on him
or even looked at another man.
Nor did she ever say an unkind
word or argue with him.
But, alas, the romance deflated,
their full blown love punctured,
when he learned she was full of hot air.

Bob Boyd

It is disappointing that as long as humans
have been on the planet

we still have wars.

I would think our species would be beyond
that by now.

But as a realist, I know without the military
we would have been conquered long ago.

I know without all the men and women
in the military who served our country

we would not have the freedom we
have today,

and I know many of them sacrificed their
lives for that freedom

like the Biblical “No greater love ….”

Bob Boyd

When years ago, I went for infusions at Moses Cone Cancer Center for a blood cancer I had

I always saw a Muslim woman there in a wheelchair, who had become emaciated by her cancer.

I felt bad for her because based on what the cancer had done to her, she seemed on her way out of this life.

She was about 50 years old, spoke no English, and,
understandably, always looked depressed and unhappy.

She was one of the many people I saw emaciated and in wheelchairs at the cancer center, and I never knew cancer could put people in wheelchairs, a sad sight to see.

The Muslim women and I always seemed to be seated
near each other, though we never had any conversations,
and I don’t think she was even aware of me.

One day she wasn’t at the cancer center when I was, and I never saw her after that.

I fear she was yet another casualty of cancer that puts many people in wheelchairs and takes many out of this life.

Bob Boyd

“I will always love you.”

“I will never leave you.”

“You are the love of my life.”

Sure those promises sound endearing and are wonderful to hear from
the lips of someone you have fallen seriously in love with.

They might even put you in a euphoric state … but, as you possibly
have learned from experience, those promises may not pan out.

As the excitement tones down and the days and years pass by
those promises may come to mean nothing when your love
doesn’t work out, as if those loving words were merely lies.

I experienced this once dramatically, when a much younger woman told me unlike with a woman my age, she could take care of me when I got old.

I didn’t want to ever need to be taken care of, but it was nice to hear
and partly what convinced me to gamble on love with a truly beautiful woman far younger than me.

As what was probably predictable, those words came to mean nothing when I got a little older, 62 to 70, and she left.

The good news was I didn’t need to be taken care of, and I was relieved when she left, as disappointing and uncaring as she had become.

Bob Boyd

The daughter of the son of Frankenstein, who inherited his father’s devilry, and wanted to be called just Frank instead of the notorious Frankenstein, which told me he was up to no good.

It told me his concealment was a cover for his intended accursed deeds that I knew were coming in the movie.

The daughter, a pretty woman, seemingly well bred, fends off an obnoxious would be Romeo, supposedly a friend of her father.

She pushes him away, and for foolish reasons tells him she’s going for a swim in the swimming pool in the patio.

This seems like a bad move to me. I am imagining it gave the obnoxious guy visions of her in a bathing suit and might have encouraged him more.

But instead of the guy persisting in his unwanted attentions, he offers her a drink, which she accepts.

Moments after she consumes the drink, she gets dizzy and feels sick, and says she has to go to her bedroom.

I’m thinking this piece of crap put a drug in her drink to rape her when she’s unconsciousness.

Then I remember this is a 50s movie and no way would a scene like
that be in it or even the hint of a woman being drugged and raped.

But the guy follows her to her bedroom, and she’s lying face down on her bed, and I’m wondering what the hell is going on here.

Then horror of horrors, she turns her face to him and OMG she’s become a freakin’ monster with a scary as hell face!

She starts walking toward the guy and he’s terrified, but it was his lucky day, she walks right past him, a wasted opportunity to give him a more than deserved comeuppance.

While she’s wandering the city in her monster morph, it’s revealed the guy put an experimental monster making drug in her drink.

I don’t know what happened to the daughter of the son of Frankenstein after that.

I haven’t finished the movie, but I know worse things are about to happen in the movie, as is always the case with anything associated with the Frankenstein brand.

Bob Boyd

Despite good governmental intentions
Dalits still treated as untouchables,
Despite great progress by some.
In statistics last year, 2023
Ten Dalit women and girls raped
Every day by upper caste men.
Oten gang raped and beaten,
Usually with impunity, no penalties,
Higher caste rapists usually go free
Ironically in most holy Mother India.
Despite many holy men and women
Few seem to give not even a damn
About the plight of the low caste Dalits,
Considered polluted and unworthy
Of even entering holy temples.
Imagine if you, your mother or your
Sister were born that way in India.

Bob Boyd

Nine-year old Indra Megwhal of India’s untouchable class beaten to death by upper-class privileged teacher, Chail Singh, 40.

His crime, touching an upper-class pot of water on July 20, 2022.

Six hospitals in 23 days couldn’t save this child’s precious life.

No word in two years about the murderer teacher’s fate, probably got off, privileged, arrogant upper class member.

A Dalit, aka untouchable, death, not a big thing, in the caste system.

Atrocities against Dalits continue in the Spiritual Cradle, that is not a cradle for them, the underclass also referred to as shit carriers.

I loathe India’s caste system that is discriminatory, cruel and inhumane to those at the bottom.

Bob Boyd

When I lived in Dallas decades ago in my youth,
a coworker of mine, who was good with the ladies,
always went to bars and picked up women for one night stands.

I didn’t drink and never went to bars
and couldn’t understand how a nice guy
like him could live such a hedonistic life
with seemingly no regard for women
he scored nearly every weekend night.

Though long before Dallas I was wild
as a cowboy in my youth going to many
bars, often getting crazy and drunk.

But I was never about empty, frivolous
one night stands. To me, just empty sex
compared to sex with love.

Even the idea of sex with a woman I didn’t
know for a night, seemed tawdry and
demeaning for both parties to me.

But my coworker, a fun and good guy,
thrived on it for reasons unknown to me.

And he probably lost count of all the women
he’d been with on those hot Dallas nights
while I stayed home womanless watching TV
during my brief stay in Dallas.

Bob Boyd