Category: Poetry

a lifelong devout catholic
she was shocked when
she died and went to hell
and saw demons and
heard the screams of
all the condemned souls

fortunately it was only a
brief sojourn before her
savior rescued her and
she returned to life
upon the exam table

thereafter she pondered
how as a religious person
she could have gone to
satan’s horrifying domain

with much speculation and
communications with IANDS
the international association
of near death studies
she concluded her mind
had constructed her near
death experience of hell

perhaps from having the
concept of it drilled into
her mind by her religion
when she was a child
and unlike her belief in
santa clause her belief
in hell persisted into
near death experience
and was just as untrue
as the existence of
an illusionary santa

Bob Boyd

after his wife left him
because she thought
he’d gone crazy
her minister ex-husband
went a lot crazier
from his raised up pulpit
he said he had attained
mystical union with God
and attained many powers
said he could affect world events
could control the winds
and the weather
could change nights into days
could communicate telepathically
with animals and insects
his worst delusion was
when he thought he could fly
to heaven and jumped
off a skyscraper
flapped his arms and
dive bombed to his death

Bob Boyd

He was told to go to the ER
something about blood platelets

He thinks he’ll be in an out
after a six hour wait

The doctors have different ideas
and admit him

He can’t believe he’s being
confined to a hospital bed

But he quickly adapts to it
and wonders what’s next

After a few days and a
series of tests

He’s released with a
blood cancer diagnosis

He had thought
he’d never
get cancer

He thought he was safe
and didn’t have to
worry about it

He didn’t smoke, drink,
do drugs, or eat red meat
and had no cancer in
his family

But cancer didn’t care
about all that

It claimed him anyway
and tried to take
his life

Weeks and months
of blood tests and
transfusions

Not a problem for him
surprisingly
maybe, miraculously,
he just didn’t care

He didn’t worry about
it killing him

He accepted
his possible
termination
like an even-minded
unfazed stoic

And maybe the cancer
gave up on him
because his indifference

Took the joy, the fun,
and the steam out of
trying to kill him

The reaper
dressed in his
flowing
black hooded robe

Reluctantly
lowered
his scythe
and said I’ll
be back another day

Bob Boyd

She said my name was written in her heart
And had been from the day she was born.
I liked the sound of that but didn’t believing it,
An impossible but such a sweet claim.

And her love for me was uncompromising.
To her dying day she remained faithfully true.
And right before she breathed her last breath,
As she lay dying in that hospital bed
I saw my name glowing out of her heart,
As if she took it with her to heaven.

Bob Boyd

Rolling Down a lonely Highway
In my old beat up pick up truck
Hearing the whine of the wheels
And trying to forget about you
Ten hours away from what
Became an old worn out love
Now I’m alone and speeding
On a thousand miles of road
Wondering what I’ll do
Where I’ll go
Without you
Maybe when I get to Tulsa
I’ll stop at a Mickey D’s
Grab a Burger with fries
And on the front of a napkin
Write a one last chance letter to you
But it probably won’t do no good
We had a rocky road romance
Down a one way hectic highway
With a lot of wrong turns
And dead end streets
And there ain’t no turning back

Bob Boyd

In his misspent, wasted youth
Sitting, profiling, in a pool hall,
Hard eyes, looking tough to fit in.
Often skipped days of school,
Had no time for education
In a small city in Massachusetts.

Inhaling a Lucky Strike cigarette,
Exhaling smoky circles in the air
Unfiltered, only manly way to go,
Greaser haircut, thought he was cool,
Thought he was super tough.

Cue ball breaking a rack to pieces,
Clatter of numbered balls
Speeding all over the pool table
Bouncing off the banks
Thudding sounds erupting
Some high and low balls
Dropping into the table pockets.

Cigarettes thrown in spittoons.
Hissing sounds when hitting the water.
Guys swearing over missed shots,
Losing serious betting money,
Some gangsters in the making.

Like Lucky Hall, 6’6” lean machine
Gangster mean and crazy as hell,
Always dressed in black.

Strolled over to him and
As he was taking a drag
On his unfiltered cigarette,
Lucky stuck a gun in his face.
He sat casually in a chair,
Pool stick in hand, unfazed,
Guns rarely seen back then.

He smiled and reached for the gun,
And said to Lucky, “Is that real?”
Not out of bravely was he unafraid,
Couldn’t believe the gun was real.

His nonchalance didn’t get the result
Lucky was looking for.
Lucky turned away, his black trench coat
Swirling in the smoky air,
Lucky looking gangster cool,
Dangerous, and genuine.

Two years later Lucky’s luck ran out.
Shot to death in faraway Alabama.
Probably put his gun in the wrong guy’s face.

Bob Boyd

Saw a sign, Free Krishna Feast With The Hare Krishnas

Didn’t care for their movement, the Hindu trappings, the way they dressed, the continuous chanting in the streets, selling incense in airports, a bit much though the chanting effective. It worked.

A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, founder of the movement, real deal holy man, seemed to live a pristine holy life.

Attended the dinner with three seeker friends, like me back then always interested in various approaches to the Absolute.

Appreciated the devotees – good people, fun to hang with, impressively devoted to their spiritual path.

But …

Krishna fundamentalism served up first and second course, the actual food exotic, holy, tasty treats.

If not with Krishna, wrong way, off course highway to nowhere.

Only way, correct way, true destination – Krishnaloka Heaven.

Then a Krishna devotional ceremony, well done, sacred.

Devotees precise, scrupulously respectful in their practice, the atmosphere reverberating with their chants, myself and my friends lit up with bliss.

After the chants and the highs, one of my friends vanished for awhile, where he went I didn’t know.

He returned with one of the Krishnas, two white tilaka marks painted on his forehead. Damn!

They got him! Like a scene from the movie The Body Snatchers. But my friend smiled, and I knew he was just going with the experience, entertained by it, having fun. Inwardly, I laughed.

Thanked the cordial Krishna hosts, bid them goodbye, walked into a warm Cambridge, Mass evening enriched from insightful and enjoyable dinner, our souls unsnatched.

Bob Boyd

Demonized in movies
Omens of Evil
Big loud birds
Pests to some
Scary to others
Raiders of nests
But I love crows
Love the raven black color
Love the piercing caws
Love the high intelligence
Love watching the flocks
Gliding in the skies.

Bob Boyd

Pounding drums
Songful chants
Sacred circle
Sacred fire
Swirling dancers
Whirling tassels
Headdresses
Feathered
Most noble
Traditional
Native
American
Dancers
Powwow

Bob Boyd

He saw her photo in the news
just twenty-two and dead
in an auto accident.
Something about her
attracted him to her,
even though she was dead.

He found the location of her grave,
brought a bouquet of flowers
he placed there tenderly.

He felt compelled to keep visiting her.
He had a crazy infatuation that
was impossible to go anywhere.
Thoughts about her were always on his mind,
and he wondered if he was going a little crazy
with his feelings for her that kept
growing stronger and stronger as he kept
visiting her gravesite and talking to her
in his head, hoping somehow his thoughts
would reach her heart in the afterlife.

Two months later, surprisingly,
she began appearing in his dreams
smiling and looking more beautiful than
her photo in the news.

Every night became a dream date
with kisses and hugs he could feel
that were more real than the
happenings in his day to day life.

Now he knows for sure
he’ll be with her when he dies

Bob Boyd

Now that I’m old, people only see a hag.
To them I’m just an annoying old nobody
when I take too long at the store checkouts.
I have become as irrelevant as a old broken bell,
a worn out, decrepit crone with no history.

But in my youth I had a wonderful full life
when I was beautiful and a theater actress
who performed in America and Europe.
I spoke French, Italian, and Spanish fluently
and climbed to the top of the Alps once.

I married a famous artist who was the love of my life.
We traveled all over the world and met famous people.
We lived in a villa in Italy and a chalet in France.
I read novels in three languages and wrote one myself.
My husband died while climbing the Alps. I almost did too.

But now I’m just an old throw away hag that people ignore,
an ancient wrinkled woman nobody cares about,
just a blank old body without a hint of a rich history,
an old gray-haired ancient relic that hobbles on a cane.
But I don’t give a damn. I lived a full life, and I have my memories.

Bob Boyd

If you’re ever in a forest and
hear birds and insects suddenly
go quiet, get the hell out of there.

Bad things may be about to happen.
Danger may be approaching,
and your life might be in peril.
You could become a 411 or
never live to see this world again.

Though I’ve read this about the
real or unreal cryptids, and to me
the scene portends some danger,
and were I in a forest and it went
quiet, I’d damn sure feel fear.

At the least, maybe a dangerous
animal like a bear could have
entered the forest and scared
everything in it to silence and fear
because all the living things know
there’s imminent danger there.

And If you ever go into a forest,
based on everything I’ve read
and heard, I’d suggest you
never go into a forest or even
hiking alone and unprotected.
Things that only happen to
others could happen to you.

Bob Boyd

I see this woman in a dream last night
who was a social worker in a nonprofit
that helped the elderly where I worked
before I retired a year ago.

She’s extremely attractive, in her sixties,
and looks remarkably young and
is intelligent and can be philosophical
when it comes to talking about
spirituality, the paranormal, and NDEs,
and she was a great social worker
which I liked about her.

Despite her attractiveness,
more attractive than most women,
and her depth, and her caring for clients
which I liked more than her compelling looks,
I found her annoying at times and
had no romantic interest in her.

In the dream I see her coming towards me
from across a street, and somehow I think
I can make myself invisible to her
because I suspect she will be annoying
and I don’t want to talk to her.

Then, and I don’t know how,
I’m lying down somewhere and
she’s affectionately kissing the
bottom of my shin on my left leg
and telling me her father needs
to go into an assisted living facility.

And though my feelings are not erotic,
and her kisses don’t seem erotic either,
I’m kind of liking the peaceful feeling
she is given me, and I nonchalantly
say to her that her father would have
some socialization were he in
an assisted living facility and maybe
find romance with a woman there.
I say that because somehow I know
he lives alone and is lonely and
having trouble taking care of himself
and feels the need for romance in his life.

I wake up after that wondering
how the hell did that woman
get into my dreams, lol. And I
start to wonder if sometimes when
a person sees someone in a dream
if the person they see is having
a similar dream and seeing them too.

And though my dream of that woman
was surprisingly pleasant, I hope I
don’t see her in anymore dreams.
And I can’t figure out why I would
have a dream with her in it because
I hadn’t thought of her since I retired.

I have had two dreams of people who
died, which I believe were more than
dreams (After Death Communications),
and I believe dreams are sometimes
more than dreams, and I hope that
bizarre dream didn’t mean she died
and was saying a final goodbye to me.

Bob Boyd

Over 8 billion people populate this entire planet.
Where is God going to put them all when they die?
Will he just recycle them life after life to save space
In the towns, cities and mansions of the Great Beyond?

Or being environmentally concerned, will he dispose of them
Like hazardous waste in some afterlife Human Disposal Machine
To save this globally warmed overpopulated, overpolluted world?

Last I heard, heaven and hell were overcrowded, no vacancies.
What did you expect with humans existing for over 6 million years?
Did you think these afterlife locales would never run out of space?

Sorry, you were born too late to make it to the pearly gates
Or find a home in the low rent burning flames of hell.
You’re SOL. See you next life – maybe.

Bob Boyd

sitting on my front porch at night
gazing at the stars in the darkened sky
and wondering about adorable you.
will we be like star crossed lovers
or destined to spin away from each other
like lovelorn passing planets?
or will love bring us into each other’s orbit
and make us soulmates for an eternity?
or will we be like passing comets,
that burn out and are gone forever?
all i know for sure … is that i love you.

bob boyd

I’ve begun to appreciate backup singers
Now I really hear them
Before I just heard the lead singer

And backup singers never get the recognition
for their cool, vocal skills

And I read they are underpaid
despite all their talents,
and how they enhance songs
by blending into the music
without detracting from
the lead’s vocals.

It’s regrettable they remain
anonymous and don’t get
the credit they should receive.

Listening to David Naughton’s
Makin’ It now, I’m really
hearing and loving what
the backup singers are
adding to the ensemble
with their nice looks
and beautiful voices.

Wow!

Bob Boyd

To humans I’m a cute bird that seems to have the life,
Chirping merrily and flying ever so freely, like a free spirit.
But believe me that free spirit stuff is kind of an act.
I’m anything but free with many predators after me,
Hovering hawks, night owls, jays and magpies in the air,
Foxes, snakes, weasels, cats and raccoons on the ground.
Despite my free spirit bravado and the happy songs I sing,
I’m little more than a predator’s next feathered meal.
And always in a state of paranoia with death in pursuit.

Bob Boyd

I loved you before the Big Bang
When the universe was born
Before the planets spun in
Vast galaxies
Before the stars rose in
Night skies
And I know we are
Destined to be
Reunited soulmates
In this life
Or the next
This existence
Or the heavens

Bob Boyd

The song I’d Rather Ride Around with you
by Reba Macintyre
fills my heart with such happiness,
makes me wish life could be
filled with that kind of happiness
every day in everyone’s life.

It’s my idea of the greatest
real and true love.

No need for fancy things
or exotic places,
distractions that pale
compared to just being together,
the incomparable joy
of our hearts united,
of our minds elated
in a simple pleasure.

Riding in that car,
more than enough.
Our love providing
all the excitement,
all the entertainment
we’d ever want or need .

Our true love,
our fun times,
our shared joys
beyond all those things
and all those diversions
that others crave and need,
that could never compare
to the happiness, the love,
we have just being together.
And I’d rather ride around with you.

Bob Boyd

Never go to doctors
They’ll find something wrong with you
Stay away and you won’t get sick or die
For example
My granny was the healthiest granny on the planet
Bench pressed 200 pounds, repeatedly
Squatted with 300 pounds, easily
Ran triathlon marathons, effortlessly
Kicked the crap out of a psycho subway pusher in NYC

All that, until she saw a geriatrics quack
A wacko psycho doctor of death
He diagnosed her with the big C
Placebo screwed her with a BS death knell
Stage 4, three months to live, he claimed sadistically

Three anxiety-driven, brainwashed months later
granny couldn’t bench or squat a mere 100 pounds
or even run twenty yards

Then granny was stone cold expired,
waked and buried at Bellevue Cemetery
Don’t ask me about the costs

In denial about my sweet granny’s passing,
vowed to find a way to bring her back.
Prayed to Jesus, Mary, and Joseph
and Catholic saints of impossible causes
Didn’t work

Because Jesus came back successfully,
thought maybe he’d share
his secret resurrection formula
and give a dead granny some love
Didn’t work

Granny remained unresurrected
Exasperated and driven to near madness
I robbed granny out of her grave
and tried to Frankenstein her back to life
Bound her to a metal table
Rigged a lightning rod to it
A thunderstorm raged and rumbled
Lightning flashed and crackled
Struck her corpse, made it sizzle
Didn’t work

Lightning only barbequed her body
Or cooked it, not sure which
Brainstormed a better idea
Jump started her like a dead car battery
Problem solved, kinda
Granny is up and running
and chasing me around my house
alive and electrically zombified.

Bob Boyd