Day: September 20, 2025

In Lake Champlain Vermont
lives an elusive sea monster
named Champ first seen
in 1609 and 299 times
after that reputedly.

Like many cryptids Champ
is a champion at hiding;
Many alleged sightings
But no proof.

Wouldn’t it be amazing
if one day Champ made his
debut and wowed the world
as a throwback to
prehistoric times.

And since no mate
has been seen
Champ must be
centuries old with an
anti-aging formula
as yet unknown.

I’d like it if Champ
came out of the lake
and declared his
authenticity to the world.

But somehow I suspect
from watching many
monster movies
that day would be
a bad day For Champ.

So I can understand him
staying out of the media
glare, being reclusive.
Because I’m reclusive too
and wouldn’t want all that
annoying paparazzi attention.

Bob Boyd

I have hunted Bigfoot for years
Got frustrated and had angry tears
Didn’t find his body or scat
All I found was a mean wild cat
Once I found big footprints in snow
But it was just a silly show
I thought for sure that they were his
Just pranksters messing with my biz
I know now why no trace of him
My image of Bigfoot was dim
He’s more than the conventional
He’s an Interdimensional.

St. Paul’s own example gives clear witness to the possibility of “offering up” our suffering for the benefit of others when he declares, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church” (Col 1:24).

Our own suffering takes on a redemptive dimension when we unite it with the passion of Christ.

My heart
could sing
a thousand
songs to you.
My heart can
barely contain
all the love
it has for you
My heart
has never been
Filled with
such happiness
My heart
has never opened
Like it did
when you came in.

Bob Boyd

Imagine
if your place
in nature
brief and
limited
to being
fish food.

Worse
consider
your brief life
limited
to alien food.

What is
Bothersome
Is why
some lifeforms
exist only
as food for
other lifeforms.

Consider
the chicken.

But
in the end
Mother Earth
eats us all.

Bob Boyd

Some people want
to live
to be a hundred
they know nothing
about the dark nights
of living
too long a life.

They know
nothing
of the
myriad illnesses
that plague most
aging
out of existence.

The worst
the mind’s
demise
when you
become
oblivious of
everything
everyone
and your
vanished self.

Despair
when
friends, icons,
and
beloved spouse
pass away
so many gone
the worst
your spouse
a deep abyss
ever surfacing
sadness.

Of course
it’s
not all bad
there’s those
Golden Years
on canes
crutches,
and
in wheelchairs.

Bob Boyd

Only sixteen, she cashiered at a drugstore
In Burlington, Massachusetts after school.
Her sweet uncommonly pretty look enthralled.
Her voice, soft as cotton candy, mesmerized
I would have liked to have gotten to know her
But cruel Fate took her life at only sixteen
Crossing the street in front of the drugstore
A reckless driver and her life was over
So unfair on this earth so many die young
And often suffer senseless terrible deaths
It saddens my heart and makes me wonder why
So many lives are cut short in awful ways
Maybe just random deaths in this crapshoot world.

Bob Boyd

She is like a winter’s night
Cold and uninviting
Frozen feelings
Never thaw out.
A distant iceberg
The warmth of my charm
The flames of my love
Cannot melt.
In an attempt to unthaw
her remote artic heart
Sent her red roses.
Repulsed, her icy touch
Caused the roses
To wilt, darken, and die.

Bob Boyd

In the sky today
beautiful fluffy
white clouds
like a fluffy
prelude of
the heavens
unfolding
in the sky.

Bob Boyd

After he got bitten by a werewolf and became a raging moonlit
beast, in his fleeting moments of near normalcy, he believed
God would send him to hell despite becoming a killing monstrosity against his will.

He pondered this horrible thought incessantly, went to church every Sunday, prayed daily to have the supernatural curse expunged and save him from an earthly and unearthly hell.

None of his attempts at redemption and a release from his cyclical
howling slaughters healed him from his fears of hell, removed his damnable curse or altered his bloody full moon rampages.

In the end he decided to kill himself to save countless lives, hoping God would credit him for that and spare him eternal horrors in hell.

Bob Boyd