Category: Poetry

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Crystalline Unicorns

We rode on crystalline unicorns in the afterlife, the unconditional love and the bliss mind blowing beyond words, beyond imagination, beyond anything one can experience in the transient days of impermanent, earthly life. Me temporarily only, an NDE tourist, her, Brianna, luckier, a permanent resident. Bliss beyond measure as we gallop through euphoric Elysian fields, Brianna, my newly discovered soulmate.

Now I know why I never found love true In my earthly existence of near misses. I needed to die to finally find her, not only the woman of my dreams, but the one I’d seen in my dreams before the car wreck that killed me temporarily. And though I miss her I know she’ll wait for me until I die permanently.

Bob Boyd

The Parade

This passing parade of people
you see throughout your life,
some you love, some you hate,
some you barely know.
Some are strangers passing by,
some linger then say goodbye.
Of the many in that parade,
few remain. The rest are
as if dead, gone from
your life forever,
returning never.

Bob Boyd

Robins

Robins scatter on the lawn as I walk by.
Why so afraid? I mean no harm.

Soon they fly off, as I wish I could
Make them see I’m a friend not a foe.

But I understand as little prey birds
They have to always be afraid

Of big human monsters like me.
And, honestly, I’d be the same,

Were I a little prey bird that
Could be crushed by a hawk,

Or killed by a big human monster
Unlike me.

Bob Boyd

Desiree O Desiree

Desiree, O Desiree there’s never been a woman like you,
not even the Greek goddess Aphrodite could compare.
Sometimes I wonder if you’re an ancient goddess too,
sent from Mount Olympus to an undeserving mortal like me.
And I wonder why this insignificant mortal came to be
with a goddess among women like you, Desiree.

Maybe Zeus sent you down to me for the time
I saved that Greek kid from a bully in DC.
Maybe he was Zeus’s son sent from
Mount Olympus for a mortal woman who,
for whatever mysterious reasons, deserved to
be with a god among mortal men.

Like ancient times, maybe ancient Greek gods
still intervene in the affairs and romances
of mortal women and men.
Maybe like you, Desiree, those Greek
gods are incomparably, mind-blowingly real.

Bob Boyd

The Aegean Sea

I’d love to sail with you
Between the Balkans and Anatolia
In the historically important Aegean Sea
Where Aegeus jumped into those waters
And drowned himself to death
Where the Greeks and the Turks
Argued over the sovereignty.
But let’s forget about the
Myths and the history
Let’s just be together
In our love boat afloat
in the Aegean Sea.

Bob Boyd

Drawbridge

Back to Drawbridge Cancer Center last Friday
Post cancer, blood test, and doctor checkup
Chocolates and poems for the wonderful nurses
Tirelessly laboring in the infusion room daily
Providing comfort, care, and kindness
Soothing and cheerful, helping heal cancers
With magnificent infusion machines
I miss those wonderful nurses
at the Drawbridge Cancer Center
And will be forever grateful for
their tenderhearted care and
skilled help in saving my life.

Bob Boyd

A Thousand Tears

He hears the cicadas grieving in the trees.
Their chirping grief in tune with his own.
Wife and three-month old child gone forever,
A raging house fire took them away.
His mind plagued with sorrow and guilt,
If only he’d been home instead of carousing,
A stable husband instead of a meandering one.
Maybe he could have saved them.
But what use of maybes now?
A thousand tears cannot wash away
The loss, the agony and the guilt.

Bob Boyd

If only You Believed

Was listening to Jefferson Starship Miracles. You know the part where they sing “If only you believed in miracles, so would I?” That’s my lyric to you. I’m here, heart open, bouquet of purple Irises, your favorite color, offering you all my love and more. If only you believed in miracles. If only you believed in the epic love of a lifetime, yours and mine, ever true, always new, only for you, ever glorious, me leaving never. The love poets write about, singers sing about, movies film about, people dream about. If only you believed… like I do.

Bob Boyd

Morning Coffee

I woke up and found you gone.
In my dream we were together again,
You in the kitchen making coffee,
The smell fragrant to me as always,
I loved your morning coffee.
You made it better than I ever could.
You hugged me before we drank
Our coffee and discussed poetry.
Holding you, I smelled your fragrance,
Far more pleasing than the coffee’s.
Upon waking to the world I remembered
That you were gone. Six feet under
in the cold smothering ground.
Tears fell from my eyes.

Bob Boyd

Never Get Tired of This Song

Ever hear a song you could
listen to a thousand times?
I have.
Listened to it probably thirty times,
never get bored with it.

Strums chords in me resonate
with idea of a goddess womon
lights up the world with love.
Perfect woman for me
soulmate incarnate.

Love Grows (Where my Rosemary goes)
Edison Lighthouse. I even love the band’s name.

Bob Boyd

A Strawberry Rasbora Fish That’s Like Me

The strawberry rasbora fish in my fish tank stay at the bottom.
They never come to the top for food, kind of annoys me.
I wanted to see them swimming merrily all over the tank.
But … one of them reminds me of me, the rebel one.
He breaks free from the herd, or should I write school?
He marches to that different beat. He drums his independence
from the restrictions of compliance with the other rasboras.
He swims all over the tank unconcerned about the opinions of
the other rasboras enslaved by the pack, or should I write school?
I think the repressed rasboras secretly admire his free spiritedness,
but fear censure from the other fish, rasbora public disapproval.
I salute you free spirit rasbora, escapee from the conformity.

Bob Boyd

Real and Lasting True Love

Remember the song You Didn’t Have to Be so Nice by the Loving Spoonfuls?
That’s how I still feel about you.
You came into my life on a dark, downcast day.
The woman I thought was the love of my life left me, and I felt so down and gloomy.
Until you showed up.
Years later when an auto accident put me in a wheelchair for the rest of my life, half a man, felt like killing myself, thought my life was over, and I’d lose you.
Until you showed up.
And loved me even more, always there for me, taking care of me, never leaving me.
And I believe you’ll still be there for me In the afterlife.
When I’ll be a whole man again, and I’ll be there for you; and I’ll love you even more.

Bob Boyd

Not Addicted

No way I’m getting addicted to you
I’ve better things to do,
writing poems like an assembly machine,
mind in the heavens, heart hermetically sealed,
card carrying MGTOW member.

Never ever will I surrender to your
siren-like charms, angelic face,
caring heart, irresistible
inner and outer beauty,
mesmerizing ways ….

Damn! Once again you’ve got me
thinking about you.
But no way I’m getting addicted
I’ve better things to do.

Bob Boyd

Surfer Charisma Death

Like a surfer, he had the look and the mellow attitude, a beach pretty girlfriend too. Peaceful, cheerful, charismatic, fun guy, the best.
An auto accident on a curve, him driving, her dead. After that, surfer charismatic fun guy died inside.
Became dark and sinister, began collecting Nazi memorabilia, praising Hitler. Never understood why he became like a retro Nazi.

The tragic loss of your love caused that dark descent? Maybe it was guilt because you were driving and she died instead of you. Maybe you felt like you killed her, even though it was an accident. I could understand that. Maybe you went mad. You have the love of your young life cruelly snatched away from you. No justice in the universe, at least not for her and you, insane and unjust she was taken from you.

Haven’t seen you in over 50 years. Maybe you’re dead. Maybe you resigned from the quasi Hitler Youth. Maybe you went from the Third Reich to the Holy Cross. Hoping that’s so, rather
than you lost forever in that descending, swastika darkness. Hope you’re In heaven reunited with her. My heart bleeds for you.

Bob Boyd

The Song About the Sun Catching You Crying

Decades ago heard a song about not letting the sun catch you crying. Why not? Wouldn’t the heat of the sun dry your tears, and I don’t think it would care one way or the other if you were crying. Did that song mean it would be better to have the moon catch you crying
when many people and werewolves go bonkers when the moon is full? I truly doubt that. But what if I was crying then? Would the tears turn into
craziness and cause me to do something totally irrational like trying to fly off a tall building like the legendary Superman? Or, does the sun have a problem with overly sentimental people who for human reasons cry now and then. Is it some kind of solar condition that the sun’s allergic to tears? Or is the sun so sentimental that it would cry too if it caught you crying. Is the sun that sensitive, that thin skinned, like some people have skin sensitive to the sun? If I wrote that song, I’d be more concerned about the moon catching people crying, especially a full moon for aforementioned reasons.

Bob Boyd

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