Category: Poetry

I remember you little, six-legged buggers,
and I can clearly see why some of your annoying
species are called piss ants.

With your overwhelming numbers, you invaded every
apartment, every house I lived in in the Philippines.

You came up from the floors, down from the roofs,
though the walls, the windows and the doors.

You got in my cabinets, my closets, my bed, my food,
and my towels. Twice you bit the hell out of me.

You made me come after you like the scorched earth
tyrannical Stalin purges

with a Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius
indifference to your deserved and more than justified deaths.

And I know if you have post offices in your underground hideouts, there are pictures of me, ant public enemy number one, hanging on those post office walls.

Bob Boyd

All you hear about is Dogman.
You hear about sightings of him
in Michigan, Wisconsin, Ohio,
Illinois and Minnesota and
other states across the U S of A.
Blah. Blah. Blah. What an exhibitionist.

But never a peep about Dogwoman.
Where’s the inclusivity? Where’s the fairness?
Maybe my thinking is off, but would we have
a Dogman without a Dogwoman at some point?
So why no news about her?

Is there Dogwoman misogyny at play?
Or maybe unlike the flamboyant, self-serving
attention-seeking Dogman, she’s not a
flaming egotist who goes out of his way
to exhibit himself in all those states across
the U S of A.

Bob Boyd

Behold one of the darkest arts of
Government: Eminent Domain
Reminiscent of stolen Native American lands
Some cases underpaid for the seizures
Some cases of removals at gunpoint
How is it in what some politicians claim
is the greatest country in the world
we have a government perpetrating
intrusive, insensitive land grabs
And while I’m on this insidious topic,
Here’s what eminent means
“Well-known and respected, especially
for achievement in a particular field.”
I see nothing respectful
I see no achievement
I see only a particular field of stolen lands
watered with the tears of people
those lands were seized from
I see a disgraceful well-known
diabolical practice by a government
in cases not by the people but
against the people
I see broken hearts of families
who owned lands for generations
robbed regardless of forced
compensations
Eminent Domain, a
Goddamn shame.

Bob Boyd

His friends told him he could do better
than his current seemingly lackluster girlfriend.
She wasn’t anywhere as good looking
as him, and he had done better in the past
with women his friends said were “hot as hell.”

But they were seduced by the superficial
and could not see what he saw,
the incomparable beauty in her heart,
the incredibly delightful personality
in her head.
And no other woman had been so loving
to him in every possible way.

She was a woman far beyond appearances
and didn’t care about painting her face with
globs of makeup to make herself more
artificially attractive.

She was much more than hot as hell for
a discerning man with the vision to see
the priceless unmatched treasures within her.

Bob Boyd

He hears the piano intro to the 1934 song,
The Very Thought of You, sung by Ray Noble,
a superstar crooner of the 1930s.

His heart nearly swoons as he listens to the
nearly incomparable lyrics to a woman of a
man’s dreams and his constant longing for.
The parts about just the idea of her and
seeing her face in every flower are such
a testimony to how much he’s in love with her.

He feels they don’t write lyrics today like the
ones in that song and other 30s songs when
almost every song was about romance and love
and life was less complicated compared to today

He’s grateful he was able to take an unbiased look
into the musical world of the 30s instead of thinking
that old music was ancient, dead and irrelevant.
And he’s always known a good song is a good song
no matter how long ago the song was sung and written.

Bob Boyd

They have seven kids now;
he realizes they overextended.

He’s fairly monied, but he knows
he’s screwed if she leaves him.

He knows he won’t be able to afford all
the child support and the alimony.

So he stays with her although
he’s miserable and trapped.

She knows she has the upper hand
in their loveless marriage if they divorce.

She stays with him because even though
she’ll be financially set if she leaves him,

she feels no other man will want her
divorced and with seven kids.

Bob Boyd

I heard a woman on a news program in Britain
say, “Damaged people cause damage.”
And how that rang so true. She nailed it perfectly.
However, I believe some people are just mean
without any damage. To quite what a counselor said
at a training I once took for my job
when I was employed:
“Some people are born mean. They’re mean all
their lives and they die mean.”

Bob Boyd

I remember the first time I saw her
when she was just out of high school.
She was so beautiful and so charming
and so much fun.
She had a perfect body many women
would loved to have been blessed with.
Her father was a pharmacist.
Her family had more money than most.

About a year after I met her
her life began to go to pieces.
Too much alcohol and drugs.
Rumors of sexual promiscuity.
A drunken drug-induced threesome
with two guys when threesome were
still shameful and considered slutty.
And the two guys bragged about
“doing her,” so crass.
She let her once perfect body go
to waste, lost its sex appeal.

Because she had been adopted, I
wondered if it was a genetic thing.
Perhaps a mother with similar
behaviors that led to her mother
losing custody of her.
And I believe in the old saying that
sometimes the apple doesn’t fall
far from the tree.
But thank God not always.

Of course, she could have lost her
way for many other reasons

but whatever the reason she did,
I was saddened to see a woman who
had so many advantages fall into
such destructive circumstances.

And I hope somehow she eventually
rose out of them.

But I have an awful feeling that she
never did.

Bob Boyd

I’ve never been one to believe in demons.
I feel some religious sects that put too much
attention on them could conjure up fake
demons in people’s heads.

They may exist.
You read of exorcists claiming they do.
I choose to not believe in them.

Some demon believing Christians claim
spiritual experiences I’ve had via
Eastern spiritual practices could
open me up to them.

Nonsense, I say.

I’ve never had any encounters with anything
demonic.

And why put your mind on such negative
things?

That to me is opening yourself up to harmful
beliefs and possibly making yourself susceptible
to believing you’re experiencing demonic activity.

Of course, demons could exist, but not in
my world.

And no way will I conjure one up by filling my
world with unhealthy beliefs in them.

Bob Boyd

I used to read the news site MailonLine
and nearly every week I read of another
female teacher having sex with a student.

The numbers were shocking. In the
past you only read of male teachers acting
inappropriate with female students.

These female teachers were behaving
inappropriately even with grade school
students in some of the most disgusting
cases.

Some of these teachers were beautiful and
could easily have been with an actual man
instead of a teenager or a kid.

Some of these teachers were married, one
had a husband high up in government.

Some of these teachers had children, which
made me think how could you molest some
one else’s child, and where is the nurturing
mother in you?

In a few cases, the father of a student a teacher
had sex with acted like it was a great score
for the kid, as if the kid had bagged a trophy.

I’ve tried to figure out the reason for this rise
in teachers molesting students, even at the
risk of losing their teaching credentials, being
put on a sex offender list, and being imprisoned.

Some of the reasons I’ve thought of are:

We live in a more seuxally permissive society now.
People brag about having threesomes or living as
a throuple instead of a couple or how many people
they’ve had sex with. One woman boasted about
having sex with a thousand men in a day, as if that
were an applaudable accomplishment.

More women binge drink nowadays, often in
college, and I’ve read that too much drinking
affects women’s brains more than men’s with
long lasting negative effects.

Could that have something to do with their
inappropriate behavior with students, or do
they get drunk too much as teachers and
lose their morals in the haze of too much
drinking over a long period of time?

Given pornography is easily accessible now,
have they screwed up their minds from
watching too much porn and lost their
morals?

Whatever the reason for the rise of teachers
having sex with students, it’s a shame that
it has happened.

I remember when female teachers seemed like
paragons of virtue.

And you never heard of one acting inappropriate
with a student, though there probably were some
that did, but no way in the numbers
you read of today.

In a way, all these teachers having sex with
students is kind of like the sign of an erosion
of our society, and I hate it that so many teachers
have become that way now.

Bob Boyd

89-year-old man and his dog
killed on May 5th by a massive
black bear on his property
outside his camper 70 miles
south of Fort Myers, Florida.

His daughter witnessed the
murder. I can’t even begin
to imagine the horror.

It seems deadly bear attacks
are rare. Tragic and said
this elderly man had to be
the exception and go out of
this world in such an awful
way. Tragic and sad so many
people in this world die awfully.

It’s my belief this man is in a
better place now, but for any
of his loved ones remaining
there’s still the loss and when
I or anyone else says the
expression, I’m sure he’s in
a better place now, there are
no guarantees.

But I hope there is a guarantee,
and like in most of the NDE
reports about the afterlife, I
hope the better place they
see is real, and I hope that
elderly man is in it.

Bob Boyd

A young woman goes on a one mile run
on the side of a country highway,
24, beautiful, a nurse tending the sick
in a small rural town, population 300.
A safe haven, hardly ever any crime.
The young women never returns home
from her run.

A search is conducted. She is not
found.

A man reports to the police that he
saw her running at a specific location
on the highway.

Days later, her body is found buried
under some leaves without her clothes.

A day later, the police have a suspect.

The man who reported seeing her on
the highway.

He’s from a respected family in the
community, has a wife and 3 kids.

At first he said he accidentally hit her
with his car and buried her out of fear.

His alibi proves false. He knocked her
out, violated her and murdered her.
And he gets put in prison for life.

Sadly in this world, that the Catholics
call the veil of tears, nowhere is
completely safe.

It’s heartbreaking and beyond tragic
that so many women and girls are
brutally taken out of this world.

An estimated 140 daily.

Bob Boyd

You decide to visit haunted houses
In the city you live in.
An exciting event in your life.
A fun night with potential thrills.
A tour for a bargain price.
Six haunted houses in all.
The first five a bust.
No ghosts. No thrills.
Number six does not disappoint.
The air chills, feels heavy.
You get the feeling something is watching you
You sense it is dangerously evil.
By now you are freaking out.
And wishing you never went on the tour.
You excuse yourself.
And get the hell out of the house.
You jump in your car and drive home,
Relieved to be safe
And out of that evil house.
At your home you undress
And change into your night clothes.
You get in bed and turn out the light.
The air in your bedroom
Gets chilled and feels heavy.
You scream louder than ever in your life
Before you pass out.

Bob Boyd

By some peculiarity, a feeder goldfish had miraculously gained enough cognizance to know his doomed existence was only to die in the stomach of a bigger, ravenous fish.

He shuddered each time the fish net scooped his fellow fish inmates out of the gulag fish tank knowing he could be next.

When he peered out of the glass enclosure, he envied the purebred angelfish in the next tank. He wondered why he couldn’t have had a privileged life like them.

One day after he barely dodged the death net, he realized inexplicably he had developed telepathic powers, perhaps the shock of his escape jumpstarted the paranormal ability.

He spied a sensitive named Bob Boyd looking at the angelfish and sent him a telepathic SOS.

The sensitive couldn’t tell the feeder goldfish had preternaturally sent him the SOS because the mind to mind transmission was weak, but he felt an irresistible compulsion to walk over to the gulag tank.

He looked at the assorted sixty plus feeder goldfish swimming and frolicking in the tank oblivious to their impending fates.

Then for reasons unclear to him one of the feeder fish caught his attention who was still sending him telepathic pleas for help.

Though he had planned on buying a fancy angelfish that day, he bought the feeder goldfish instead and brought him home and put him in a tank he had bought to house an angelfish in.

And the feeder goldfish lived the high life in a brand spanking new 50 gallon aquarium estate

with soothing bubbling water, stunning coral substrate, a fish cave, radiant aqua plants, and bathed in illuminating aquarium lights that made his new home an underwater paradise.

He was fed fish food that was like gourmet fish food prepared by a five star chef instead of the fish food gruel he was sparingly fed when he was just a doomed feeder goldfish.

His telepathic ability waned after the rescue, but he didn’t care.
Mission accomplished, his life spared and an upscale dream life.

Bob Boyd

I read in the local mainstream news some werewolves have volunteered at a hospice in the city I live in.

At first, I thought it was a dark ploy to savage patients who’d be easy prey.

But as I read the article further, I saw that the werewolves had been helping out there for a month with no patients harmed.

In fact, “some of the patients miraculously got well, as if the werewolves had supernatural healing powers.”

Near the end of the article it concluded werewolves were really nice people who just happened to murderous monsters; it also read, “Who among us is perfect anyway?”

Then I realized the werewolves were just up to a PR campaign for damage control.

And by the way the mainstream news was attempting to make them saintlike and worthy of veneration, I could see the werewolves had paid them serious money to write the BS puff piece about them, just like celebs do.

I’ve no doubt that once the werewolves’ PR stunt is over, they’ll go back to ripping people to pieces when full moons and dark nights kill off any impulse controls they might have had.

But I suspect you won’t hear a peep out of the mainstream press because it won’t fit their narrative, and they’re still beholden to the werewolves PR campaign’s largess.

This werewolf news nonsense is like the fake news puff piece they ran a week ago about reformed vampires sucking catsup out of plastic bottles instead of draining the blood out of flesh and blood humans.

Yeah, sure. Like that’s believable.

Bob Boyd

I hear the train rumbling by my apartment.
I feel it too.
It shakes the entire apartment building a bit,
even though the train track is about 300
feat away.

Some trains just clatter down that track.
They don’t make a stir in this apartment
building, but you can always hear then
when they pass by.

Sometimes when I hear or feel them, I
wonder what it would be like to be on
one of those trains headed for whether
they go.

A spontaneous adventure to some distant
location.

Maybe to almost heaven West Virginia.
I drove through parts of WV before, and it
did look like almost heaven.

Or maybe the train would stop at Richmond,
Virginia.

I’ve been there, and when I was there it seemed
like a nice city, a great place to live, but that was
about sixty years ago, and towns and cities
have a way of changing with the years.

Sometimes for the best. Sometimes for the
absolute worst.

The train. The rumbling. And the shaking
have passed.

Everything is back to normal again, even my
thoughts of getting one on of those trains
and going nowhere planned.

But I would like to be on a train with sleeper
car someday going somewhere I’ve never been.

Bob Boyd

Worked out 3 times a week for decades,
and he wanted to work out tomorrow,
but with his 3 times a week workout
he had to wait till Sunday.

Then he got an idea. Break with your
workout tradition and work out every
other day. And maybe despite low T
you’ll see some meager muscle gains.

It seemed almost like a sacrilege to
the sacrosanct 3 days a week workout,
and he wondered if it could lead to
overtraining with attendant symptoms.

But he researched it and found every
other day was better for muscle growth,
and maybe it would jump start his
old muscles and pump up some gains
despite the low T and the sarcopenia.

Now he’s excited and can’t wait till
tomorrow to start his new every other
day workouts.

And since he loves to work out, more
will be more than welcome to him.

Bob Boyd

The rain beating down on that hotel roof in a city in Germany
on November 9th, 1958, felt to him like the tears of thousands
of jews on Kristallnacht, when homes and business were ransacked and destroyed.

In his mind he could hear all the glass shattering as businesses
and homes were broken into by the Nazi Party’s Sturmabteilung
and Schutzstaffel paramilitary forces. He imagined he could
hear the screams and the cries of confusion as the Nazis did their devil’s work.

He cried tears with the rain in remembrance of his mother, father,
sister and brother who died in the Auschwitz concentration camp not long after that.

Later that day he toured Auschwitz in the rain, lingered there
and shed more tears over the beloved members of his family
gassed to death in the gas chambers. He wiped his eyes,
shook water off his yamaka, and prayed another Holocaust would never happen again.

Bob Boyd

He was hiking in an unfamiliar forest with a friend
named Jeff, and the forest became eerily quiet.
The birds stop singing. The insects stop buzzing.
And there was a feeling of danger in the air.

He turned around to ask Jeff if he feels the danger.
And Jeff is gone, gone in a moment. No sounds.
No cry for help. Nothing.

He hears a slight hum above the trees.
He looks up and sees what appears to be a
V shaped UFO. Then it vanishes and the humming stops.
The forest becomes alive again with the sounds
of the bugs and the birds. And some birds fly out of a tree.

He runs to the Park Ranger’s office and reports Jeff missing.
Before long the forest is full of search and rescue dogs,
trackers, police and volunteers.

He tells the police what happened, but he sees in their eyes
and hears in their words that they think he murdered Jeff.
But although he’s a person of interest, they have nothing.

A year later, he hears a knock on his front door. He opens it
and Jeff is standing there, but he’s not the Jeff he knew.
His eyes are vacant and he’s acting and talking like a robot.
He fears the aliens in the V shaped UFO he saw after Jeff
went missing abducted Jeff, and now they’re after him.

He runs past what used to be Jeff, leaps into his car and speeds away
to a motel in the town next to the town he lives in.

He spends a week hiding out at that motel until he gets up
the courage to return to his apartment. It’s safe. Jeff is gone
and he never sees Jeff again. He reported the incident to
the police, but they never found Jeff or what was posing
as Jeff, and he never went hiking in a forest again.

Bob Boyd

Since I know some things about transcendence
and spiritual experiences,
I often think I should be beyond the human need
for romantic love.

I should be more about the Oneness, the nonduality,
the eternal bliss consciousness that supposedly
is beyond conditional love and is everlasting.

I should be clearly aware that even if I found
the love of my life at 80, it would only be
temporary when one of us died and left the other unlike
the permanence of eternal bliss consciousness.

Maybe it’s a deficiency in me that sometimes makes
romantic feelings arise and hope that those who don’t find
their true loves in this life find them in the afterlife.

Maybe I’m more a romantic than a mystic
despite my 24/7 spiritual experience.

Maybe I’ll be a romantic mystic when I die
and ride unicorns in crystalline skies in
expanded states of consciousness with
a long awaited soulmate that is heavenly and
perfect in every way for me.

More likely, I’ve been listening to too many old
love songs today, lol.

Bob Boyd