Month: September 2025

I thought we had true love
I thought it would last
But you had other plans
Selfish plans
In violation of true love
In violation of vows

You wanted more stuff
I didn’t care about

So you met a rich guy
Who dazzled you with stuff
And you left me
I didn’t care about that either

Then the rich guy said goodbye
And took his stuff
You cried and wanted the guy back who didn’t care about stuff
Like a fool, I succumbed. Like a fool, I felt sorry for you

Your redemption worked
until you found another guy with more stuff
I’ll never make that mistake again.

Bob Boyd

Little Squirrel in the tree
It must be tough being thee
Predators up in the sky
And on the ground standing by
Looking to make you a treat
Sad you must be good to eat
Which must make your life so hard
Always fearful and on guard.

Bob Boyd

This whole world has gone past crazy
Morales and values now hazy
Little kids taught porn in grade school
Brainwashing has become the rule
What happens when these kids mature?
Shipwrecks on Normalcy’s shore?
Or will they throw off the shackles
And sail free into the sunset
Of a better, saner world.

Bob Boyd

I’m so done with that Miss Vicky
Love bomb poem didn’t sticky
Blind like a bat, she cannot see
What could have been, what ought to be.

But it doesn’t matter to me
Don’t care about what could not be
Got a plan to set my heart free
In the next stanza, you will see.

I got game at Harris Teeter
Probably find someone sweeter
Fresh pickins’ in the produce aisles
Hotter stuff with come hither smiles.

Bob Boyd

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

It’s like you and I are from different planets,
Nothing in common, so freakin’ far apart.
How the hell did we ever get together?
Sure you are beautiful, and you think I look good too,
But is this only a superficial, never lasting love?
Or despite the agonizing differences, are we really a couple?
Have we spent six months and two weeks together for nothing?
And what about the I love yous, need yous, want yous,
Were those endearments as hollow as the inside of a bell?
I mean why are we even together, why the hell are we so badly yoked?
Sometimes you drive me so crazy I feel like copycatting those people who jump off buildings.
Seriously, you drive me insanely crazy like that and make me an emotional maniac.

What? What did you say?

“If you feel our relationship is so painful and dysfunctional, why don’t you leave?”

I don’t leave because it would hurt more to be without you.
Because I’d be driven even crazier from not having you in my life.
Because despite my inane complaints, my insipid rantings, I need you.
And because I love you beyond words, beyond reason, and beyond anything and everything.
And I’m sorry, and I promise I’ll stop these stupid, deal breaking rantings.

Bob Boyd

A second chance
for love
so complete
– at first.
Then cracks
appeared.
Her habits
at first
endearing
began to wear.
His drinking
okay – at first.
Then began to
tear the fabric
of their love.
Intolerable –
near the end.
Months
of fighting
then physical
abuse.
Him
lying dead
after dinner
poisoned
to death.
Her
million dollar
insurance
payout.

Bob Boyd

Banners raised, they charge.
This time not soldiers, swords or cannons.
Buttons pushed, alarms blaring
Nukes raining from the skies.
Both sides lose.
Billions dead.

Bob Boyd

In Scape Ore Swamp there’s a Lizard Man
Bigger, badder than a he-man
Stay away from that scary swamp
Or he might eat you – chomp, chomp, chomp.

Bob Boyd

Supermodels in London and Milan
Strutting down runways with joyful elan.
Beautiful women only for a while
Compare not to Miss Vicky’s ever-sweet smile.
Enthralling young beauties rank second place
To her enduring charms and lovely face.

Bob Boyd

He spent his days among the beasts and the birds
of the forests.
He preferred their company over what he saw as
human beasts.
They had no guile, no greed, no cowardly snipes.
He lived as a self exiled recluse far from cities,
towns and villages.
He foraged and hunted for food, never bothering with
humans or grocery stores for sustenance, only for
ammunition and his disability checks.
He became a fugitive after defending a deer he had befriended,
killed two hunters that were hunting it.
A year later, U.S. Marshals tracked him down, and after
a protracted shootout, gunfire and smoke lighting up the forest,
bullets whizzing back and forth, two of marshals were dead, as well as him.
His life over, no more human beasts, no more running, maybe with the beasts and the birds he loved so much in a forest-like afterlife.

Bob Boyd