Category: Poetry

Sparrows, do you ever seek the truth,
Or like many preoccupied humans
Do you just seek food, mate and eat?
Do you ever wonder what it’s all about,
This uncertain fleeting life?
Or are you born enlightened
Not needing to question existence
Not concerned with the transience
Having built-in Buddha Minds
And free tickets to Nirvana?

Bob Boyd

The day I met you the sun rose in my life
Everything became more beautiful.
Everything became more bright.

The sky became bluer.
The world became newer.
The songs of the birds became sweeter.

And my life felt wondrous and complete
Being with beatiful loveliest of all you.

And when the love in our hearts blossomed,
And radiated up to the heavens,
The angels sighed with delight.
And I believe our love was predestined
And will be everlasting.

And if by chance I leave this world before you,
I’ll still be loving you from the afterlife
Sending my undying love to you.

And I know when we both leave this earth
we’ll be together in the afterlife
in love forever and ever.

Bob Boyd

Jenny picks apples off the apple trees.
Her husband Jed gathers the crops.
Some city slickers think they talk funny,
Their bad grammar and hick accents.
But them city folk don’t know nothin’
about the art of living off the land.
And Jenny and Jed are a damn sight
Smarter than those city slickers
When it comes to practical things.
And those good country folk know
What’s right and what’s wrong
And have better values, and
Humility and goodness in them
Than those smug city slickers.
And if another Depression came,
I’d rather be a Jed and Jenny
Instead of a thinks he’s smarter
than me city slicker standing
Like a beggar in the bread line.

Bob Boyd

I’m listening to the man singing about Oz never giving anything to the Tim Man that he didn’t already have,
and I’m transported back to a time I liked better than
the aging out time I’m in now.

And I’m reminded of all the good times that are past
and gone forever except when I relive them in my memory.

And I find myself hoping the afterlife is a place where
good times never pass, where happiness always lasts,
where true love is always true, and where I’ll be spending an eternity with you even though we haven’t met yet.

Bob Boyd

Lucy was as fair a woman as a woman can be.
She passed from this life at only twenty three.
On the day of her marriage to Charles Porter,
She tripped on her wedding gown on a stairs.
She died when her head hit the bottom step.
Now she wanders day and night in her wedding gown,
As if still trying to get to her wedding that never happened.
I’ve tried to communicate with Lucy about going to the Light,
But she never seems to acknowledge my presence.
Perhaps Lucy is only like a film replaying day and night.

Bob Boyd

In case you are unfamiliar with this kind of apparition, Lucy is not in the scene described in the poem. To quote an expert in these matters. She is “residual energy, like a playback of the past, an echo of a past event.” Lucy has gone somewhere else in the afterlife, hopefully to a paradise.

Supposedly sometimes when a person dies from a horrible event or an accident, the scene of that death keeps playing back over and over. It’s like watching an actor in an old movie who isn’t there physically.

Another telling characteristic is Lucy doesn’t interact, just like an actor in a movie wouldn’t interact with you.

And as far as me trying to get Lucy to the Light, that’s pure fiction. Most of my poems are fictional, even first person ones, with some exceptions like a poem I wrote today: Boundaries of Love with a 25 Year Old Adorable Woman.

Another evil entity in Greensboro Park
In the scary, forbidden and evil dark.
Be there no end to this devilry?
Unknown to lovelorn me, Baba Roba,
Supposedly only a Slavic myth,
Was terrifyingly bona fide, and she had
Shapeshifted into a beautiful woman
And blew me the most tantalizing kiss.
Thought finally under a fortuitous moon
I’d met my life’s love, thanked the God above.
But, alas, when I gave her a mere kiss,
She shapeshifted back into a scary old witch
And cursed me into a croaking toad.
Said she’d remove the curse If I gave
Her half my bank account. I croaked an okay.
She removed the curse temporarily, so I
Could get to my bank, Summit Credit Union.
Upon my return, doused that Baba Roba
With a concoction of holy water and hawthorn,
And she screamed like a banshee and died.
Maybe. Hopefully. Crossing my fingers.

Bob Boyd

She was 26.
I was 75.
Old enough
to be her grandfather.
She was petite,
charmingly adorable
incredibly funny
and she had
the sweetest voice
I’d ever heard.

At work
she flirted with
me so tortuously
much that it took
all my will power
and more to not
get enamored with her.

Sometimes my
mind was assailed
with constant thoughts
of her like a person
gets on the brink
of falling in love.

But I couldn’t go there.
I had to put a boundary
on what would have
been a senseless
impossible love
that never would have
lasted.

Once she begged me
to attend a work event
with her, but sadly,
regrettably, I had
to say no. And it
hurt my heart so
much to have had
to reject her
and that I might have
hurt her feelings.

I really wanted to go
there with her,
to be with her.
But I knew that
spending an evening
sitting next to her
would have rendered me
unable to resist her
and I would have made
the foolish mistake
of starting
something that
just could not be.

I’ve never believed in
putting boundaries on
love, but I had to be
realistic and fair to her.

And though it
pained my heart
and could have been
foolishly seen
as old man’s
gift from God,
falling in love or
even going
out with her
was a boundary I
could never cross.

But oh how incredibly
adorable she was
and oh how I miss the
sound of her voice
the sweetest I’d
ever heard.

Bob Boyd

She calls herself Atmosphere, and her YouTube ASMR Videos
are like something created in an alternative world far richer than this one.
She must have a background in theatre productions, acting, and the like
to create such surreal, unreal, mystical, amazing, peerless ASMR videos
such as ASMR Morning Rituals for Your Highness in an Ancient Realm or Preparing For a Treasure hunt – Medieval Fantasy RPG.

She takes you into undreamed worlds and plunges your inner world into states or relaxation that are almost unexpectedly transcendent.
In a myriad of indescribable ways she navigates you on fantastical trips
through the many magical places she creates with her incredible imagination.
She is just as magical and mysterious as her ASMR videos, and I often wonder who she really is and how she has this phenomenal talent.

Hail to Atmosphere! Queen of ASMR Artists!

Bob Boyd

At Saint Joseph’s Oratory in Montreal, Canada
Brother Andre, a Canadian Saint is entombed.

Humble doorkeeper, a brother not a priest
least likely to be used by God, perhaps
the last being first, became a miracle worker
healed ailing supplicants from all over the world,
the power of his supercharged prayers and
unceasing devotion to Saint Joseph.

Never took credit for healing 10,000 or more
so humble, so devout, so saintly was he.

When he died, a million people streamed past his coffin
in reverence to this humble, God-blessed healing saint.
His mortal remains lie in the coffin at the back of the oratory in a sacred room, a powerful shrine where crutches of many healed pilgrims adorn the walls.

If you go there and visit his tomb, do not be surprised
if you feel palpable, saintly energy that will renew you
and replenish your faith. This I write from experience.

Bob Boyd

I saved a ladybug’s life today
It fell in my fish tank or maybe
It wanted to end it all. It thrashed
In the water desperately. Had my
Hearing been better, I probably
Would have heard ladybug
Cries for help.

I could have looked the
Other way and let the ladybug
Drown and become waterlogged
Fish food. But a nobler cause
Guided my actions. I couldn’t
Bear to let that little ladybug
Suffer a moment longer and die.

So with a piece of paper
Like a life raft for drowning
Souls at sea, I eased the
Gasping ladybug onto
The paper. When I got the
Ladybug to shore aka a
Ledge on a table, I swear
Inside my head
I heard a tiny ladybug
Thank you.

Bob Boyd

My parents always said why can’t you be like Arthur Koski
As if he was some kind of sainted kid above wrongdoing
And I was some kind of ne’er-do-well loser who always screwed up
I hated that ideal Arthur Koski and his supposedly perfect ways
When I dropped out of high school and Koski made the honor roll
My parents threw that in my face and kicked me out of the house
Years later that perfect Arthur Koski became a Catholic priest
I became a grunt working whatever construction jobs I could get
No doubt my parents would have said why couldn’t I have been as pious and as educated as Arthur Koski
I lived a common life with a good woman, made enough money to get by, and never got in trouble
Arthur Koski, on the other hand, was arrested for molesting altar boys
If I were less a man and vengeful, I would have said to my parents why couldn’t Arthur Koski have been like me?

Bob Boyd

Mary Lindsay went to church
And came home saved
Mary Lindsay went to a bar
And came home drunk
Mary Lindsay went to church again
And came home saved again
Mary Lindsay went back to the bar again
And came home drunk again
I’m not throwing any stones
At least she was trying.

Bob Boyd

This is a simple poem and I’ve created many fictional characters in poems, but despite the poem’s simplicity, Mary Lindsay is my favorite character.

I love her because I feel she had a difficult childhood that caused her severe harm, like being sexually abused as a child. And that dark chapter in her young life, and probably other horrible things, led her to alcoholism.

I love her because she’s not giving up despite what she’s been through, and I feel she will prevail in the end and have a great life despite the disadvantages she faced.

Sai tread the path of darkness after he gave up on God
when God and his saints of impossible causes refused to answer his urgent prayers to heal his beautiful Rozina, and they let her die of leukemia at the tender age of 23.

After that Sai went somewhat mad and became diabolical.
He studied and learned many dark arts and sorceries.
He conjured up familiars to do his every evil bidding,
blasphemed God and cursed his saints every night.

He built an altar to Satan, prayed to him daily and begged Satan to give him immortality like the fires of hell and to make him a vessel of unlimited diabolical powers.
Satan told Sai he’d make him an immortal, evil incarnation, and he brought him to hell to start the transformation

Sai saw unspeakable terrors and unimagined horrors there:
screaming soulless sinners, menacing red-eyed demons, burning flesh, torn apart extremities, endless torments, eternal tortures, stenches of rancid, rotting corpses, and no way out, denizens forever doomed and damned.

But the most terrifying part of his time in hell came when Sai learned Satan had trapped him there forever.

Bob Boyd

The meditation teacher told us if we took
the new course, we’d have Siddhis,
paranormal abilities,
that would enable us to fly
and advance us closer to
cosmic consciousness.

And it sounded like we’d be able
to fly like birds in the sky.

But the thousands of dollars
cost for the course was way
too steep for me.

And decades later I saw a video
of those who had the flying Siddhis
power

hopping like frogs on mattresses instead of
flying like birds in the sky.

Bob Boyd

Just seventeen
and cancer
has taken her
away

To me this is like
a devil’s play

That took her
life away

She was far
too young to die

And never live
to see another
blue sky

And I have to
wonder why

So many young
people
have to die

Before they’ve
had a chance
to really live.

Bob Boyd

Saw on Timcast
News about
Women raising
Reborn baby dolls
One spent
$2,000 on 8
Of them
She said
She treated as
Her kids

Tim of Timcast
Was freaked
Out by this
And felt the
Woman should
Be shamed

Me I don’t care
About this
Woman having
8 baby dolls
And if these
Dolls make
Her happy

I’m totally
Okay with it
She’s not
Hurting anyone
And there
Are far
Worse things
People do

Once I saw
A documentary
About men
Who had
Life size
Anatomically
Correct
Female dolls
They said
Were their
Girlfriends
One said
His doll
Was his wife

Unlike what
I expected
These men
Seemed Like
Nice Guys
Despite their
Unnatural
Obsession
With the
Fake women
Dolls and
They truly
Treated them
Like bona fide
Girlfriends
That they
Cared about
And Loved

And if those
Life size
Female dolls
Make them
Happy and
Less lonely

I’m totally
Okay with it
There are
Far worse
Things
People do

Bob Boyd

In 1931 a crooner named Val Rosing was singing about a woman driving him crazy.
Seems things haven’t changed much in 2025
with men and women still being driven crazy
when heart-wounded by Cupid or love-bitten by the love bug.

I was almost that way six full moons ago when a
buxom, pretty woman in her fifties, a goddess in
the chips and crackers aisle, at Lawndale Ave Harris Teeter grocery store for a moment batted her big blue eyes at me.

I wistfully thought to myself today my stars must be
aligned so perfectly that this is my decades awaited
one and only soulmate here for me.

In that moment I spied Cupid drawing back his bow
and aiming it at my hopeful, beating heart.
I sensed the invisible love bug about to bite me,
and I knew destiny and the fates had surely brought the
goddess in the chips and crackers aisle to me
until the goddess batted her eyes at another man
and I thought to myself, already she’s cheating on me?

Then I thought that’s it we’re through. I wheeled my noisy grocery cart, clickity-clack, around and headed toward the ice cream aisle.
I loaded up the cart with enough Haagen-Daz Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream to gorge myself on for weeks.

I drove home and home and devoured a truck-load of
the Haagan-Daz and cured myself of the grocery store
amor craziness because it’s hard to be unhappy or broken hearted when eating the delicious, the magnificent, the incomparable Haagan-Daz Chocolate Cookie Dough ice cream, which for me is like an ultimate panacea that can heal almost any affliction and maybe even raise the dead.

Bob Boyd

NDEers who have died and seen The Source
report it’s unconditional love beyond words beyond imagination,
and that this world pales by comparison, lackluster, less real and dreamlike.

They say when they’re there dead temporarily that it’s their true home
where they want to stay forever.

When they’re told they have to return to this temporary life
because it’s not their time to die permanently,
they’re not told to go to church, temple or mosque more.
They’re not told to sing hymns, pray, meditate, or contemplate.

They’re simply told to be more loving ….

To me that revelation is as fitting as a hand to a glove
because of the saying God is Love.

Bob Boyd

They launched a lot of satellites up into space
that circled around the sun, the moon, and the earth
for various clandestine missions.

The aliens took notice and began appearing more often
in the seas and in the skies.

No one knew their purposes or their intents.
Some said they were malignant.
Some said they were benign.
Nobody knew for sure what the aliens were about.

Perhaps they were more actively keeping watch,
testing the mood and the temperature
of the increasing possibility of an all out nuclear war.

to react more visibly should the nukes be about to be launched
and shut all the nukes down to save humans from destroy themselves,
like overlord guardians of the people and the planet.

Bob Boyd

Scientists always thought aliens would be physical beings.
Despite their imposing intellects, they never imagined
That the aliens would come through notes and bars.
At first, the strange, hypnotic music seemed earthly
Until it played across the planet and lulled the world
Into a comatose state, everything brought under its spell,
The world and its populations as frozen as the arctic.
Their conquest done, the musical aliens devoured their prey,
Sated themselves on every living thing and trumpeted away.

Bob Boyd