Category: Poetry

When he met her in high school, his feelings were sky high.
His parents said his head was in the clouds – teenage love never lasts.

But he knew he was smarter than them about his new love and she knew it too. it was destiny that they were together, and somehow they knew their stars were aligned forever.

They saw other young loves fall apart as their love survived.
She went to college, to become an elementary school teacher got asked out by many rich college guys because of her beauty, but she always said no and stayed true.

He remained in their hometown and worked on his father’s farm, could have easily cheated on her when she was away, his good looks got the attention of many pretty, young women, but his heart stayed true because he knew she was the one.

They got married in a little Baptist church on a sunny spring day back in 1977. And in 2025, they’re still in love and happily together.

Sometimes teen love lasts. Sometimes young hearts are right about their “It’s the real thing” romantic dreams and imaginings despite the odds and the world against their real and lasting true love.

Bob Boyd

The lovelorn crooner on my YouTube romantic songs playlist is singing about how he goes crazy when he looks into this woman’s eyes, and I almost start going crazy myself remembering similar times in my life.

I bemoan the lost years and the lost loves and looking in their eyes and going probably as crazy as that singer is at this magical musical moment.

I play the song a second and a third time because I’m savoring the sensations and the memories of those going crazy and being so in love feelings.

And in an uncharacteristically vulnerable state I find myself wishing that hearts were never broken and everybody could go crazy and be that much in love for all of their lives and forever like those happy ever after fairy tales.

Then I come to my waning senses and remember the saying, there’s no fool like an old fool and I end this woefully nostalgic poem.

Bob Boyd

Unlike my kinfolk crickets who live with me in
this upscale cricket bin and think they’re
living their best lives, like uppity insects
privileged beyond measure and singing
cricket songs and partying 24/7,
being fed for free every single day –
I know the freakin’ score.

I know what you’re thinking. How can a dumb
cricket have these thoughts when other
crickets act like they barely have any brains?

You see I’m an anomaly, and I suspect I was
an SOB human in a former life with mountains
of bad karma that devolved me, that degraded
me, to this downsized ill fated cricket food life.

But despite the fact I probably was an SOB
in a reckless, wanton, evil and villainous life,
and I had to pay penance as a cricket in this life,
why couldn’t I have been a cricket in the wild
instead of imprisoned in this PetSmart gulag?

At least outta here I could have had a chance
of living a long and happy life without it ending
in the stomach of a freakin’ ravenous lizard.

My only hope, far as I can see, is that maybe,
just maybe, some tree hugging do-gooder will
get it into his or her head to come to PetSmart
and buy me and my compatriots and liberate
us from this freakin’ stinkin’ kill zone gulag
and if you live anywhere near the
Greensboro, NC PetSmart, man up or
woman up and please do. I’m begging you.

For now all I can so is practice my stealth
by dodging those scoopers every time one
of those PetSmart workers oblivious to my
plight tries to scoop me outta here and into
a frenzied monster lizard’s awaiting mouth.

So far so freakin’ good.

P.S. That’s me with the sign. I’m trying to
get what the Buddhist call merit with the
hope of a better next life.

It is said all the stars in the sky will someday become extinct unlike my never-ending love for you.

Bob Boyd

About this poem: I’ve written many love poems; for example at my Romantic Poems Blog, and one could imagine I was writing them with someone in mind. But the truth is I write romantic poems to no one in particular with the exception of maybe a few about past loves of long ago.

In those exceptions, there’s no pining. I essentially resurrect the feelings I had when a past love was in bloom even though no torch is carried for those long ago loves.

And I’ve never gone back to a love that went south. My belief is that to do so puts one in the same unhappy/unsatisfactory situation. At first with a joyous make up it seems both have changed and things are better than they ever were. But usually in time, generally after about a month, old behaviors, yours and hers, resurface and you’re stuck in that rut all over again. To me, it’s the folly of making the same mistake twice.

That said, of course some people have made things work with a second try, God bless them, I don’t know how. But I’ve never put myself in that situation. I just don’t believe in second chances when one’s heart is on the line.

Plus, I see a break up as an opportunity, a fresh chance to find someone more suitable for you and to experience the joys and the ecstasies of falling in love again.

And if a woman wanted to leave me, I’m too proud to beg her to stay and too respectful to try to talk her out of leaving. I see her kinda like a free agent in matters of the heart. And what decent man would want to be with a woman who didn’t want to be with him? It’s a losing proposition and way too controlling.

My friend Maurice said he was
going to become a monster hunter.

He intended to hunt the monsters alone
at night when the forest went dark.

I told him going into the forest alone at night
was a bad idea, and what if all those rumors
about cryptids in there were true?

He called me a pussy for being afraid,
and he was right.

I was a pussy about hunting monsters,
real or unreal, in the forests in the dark of night.

Even if there were no monsters in that forest,
bears and mountain cats prowled for prey there.

I had a bad feeling about Maurice going there alone
in the darkness of night, even with his Remington shotgun.

I almost thought about going with him for extra protection, but the inner voice inside me screamed, “DON’T DO It.”

Maurice began his monster hunt in the spring of 2007, and though I’m not usually superstitious, I noticed a full moon came out that night.

The next morning I called Maurice curious about his daring monster hunt, wondering if he found anything.

He didn’t answer his phone. I had to leave a message, and I never heard back from him.

His mother called me and asked if I had seen him. I said no and told her about his monster hunt.

The police were informed. Search dogs scoured the forest. It seemed Maurice had disappeared until the dogs discovered his body

surgically mutilated with astonishing precision and drained of blood like the cows had been on a farm a few eerie days earlier.

Bob Boyd

Could it be that romantic love
is just for procreation

like it is for
the birds in the trees
the bees in the flowers
the animals in the wilds
the fish in the waters
the insects on the ground
and in the air

and if that is the purpose
of all the I love yous
what is the point
of it all

why must all of life
keep reproducing
and reproducing
until it all dies out

Bob Boyd

His dogs began to howl in his house
for reasons he couldn’t discern.

He rushed out of his bedroom
to the kitchen where the dogs
howled at something above their heads.

Then he saw the apparition of a wolf
appear above the dogs
before it howled twice and
vanished back into the ethers.

And he remained the former
owner of his house had a
pet wolf he’d tamed that
was shot to death with him
by a gang of bloodthirsty robbers
who broke into his house.

Bob Boyd

She told him
she was leaving him
he said okay fine.
she got mad at him
for not protesting
she expected begging
or at least attempts
to talk her out of leaving
because of his indifference
she almost changed her mind
but packed her bags
and left him anyway
until a month later when
she called him and said
why don’t we make up
and get back together
he said no way I don’t
turn back the clock or make
the same mistake twice.

Bob Boyd

Hiking in the forest, he heard the forest go quiet
and had an eerie feeling.

He knew that when the forest goes quiet
a cryptic often appears.

For a millisecond, he regretted hiking alone and
without a weapon

before he heard a rumbling roar and
smelled a scent like death.

He turned around shuddered and screamed
as he saw the dogman beast

coming toward him with evil-looking yellow eyes
and elongated fangs.

He felt himself trapped in its grasp and its fangs
tearing apart his throat,

and his world went dark and his
lights went out forever,

Bob Boyd

Age 27 sitting in meditation
went deeper than usual
white light brighter than
the sun lit up my head.

My consciousness
began expanding into
the infinite cosmos.

Two days later kundalini
energy began rising
from the base of
my spine to the crown
of my head 24/7

And despite being a
hardcore party guy
before that and
getting drunk
too much,
I never drank again.

With kundalini I
intuitively knew
what went up was
never going down,
permanent mystical
experience to this
79th year of my life.

Thought I was
going to attain
cosmic consciousness
aka mystical union,
but so far it hasn’t
happened.

Diagnosed with cancer
three years ago
recovered from it
but back then
felt I was close to
dying.

Began re-reading
near death
experiences (NDEs)
that I’d read
in the seventies,
saw them as
roadmaps into
the afterlife.

Saw the common
threads in them:
the life review,
the Source,
the unconditional
love —
looked forward to
dying.

Then I saw NDE cases
on YouTube videos
about atheists who
felt or were in hell.

Like the saying
there are no atheists
in foxholes, they
prayed foxhole
prayers to Christ.

Christ heard their
desperate, frightened
prayers.

He came to them
in spirit or in Light.

Rescued them from
the hellish
experiences, demons,
tortures, people
screaming,
hell fires,
people trapped
there forever.

And the atheists
returned to life
believers.

To that me was a
validation of the
reality of Christ.

Was so impressed
with what to me
was like a
revelation that
I became a believer.

The conversion
raised my morality
higher than at any
time in my life
to my astonished
surprise.

Kundalini energy
kept flowing
ever upwards
unaffected by
the conversion.

Now I sit in
contemplation of
Christ and devoutly
place this mystical,
spiritual energy
in his hands
to do whatever is
best with it.

Sometimes in
those contemplations
I feel that like
a supersonic rocket
I’m going to blast
off into the heavens
or experience
mystical union.

So far so divinely good.
So far it all seems
so incredibly right
and bringing me
closer to the Light.

Bob Boyd

Tu Fu where are you?
Did you become one
with the Tao

or are you still writing
poems somewhere in
the afterlife?

I image you somewhere
with zithers playing
and orioles singing
and maybe drinking
cups of heavenly wine
with Li Po and other
great Chinese poets

and still writing beautiful
8th century poems
in celestial mountains
where dragons and
phoenixes decorate
crystalline skies.

Bob Boyd

I met her
on a dating app
many years ago

she was in her fifties
long black hair
voluptuous
probably beautiful
in her youth

I sat in her house
chatting with her
and I felt such
darkness there

I’m no psychic
I’m no seer
but the darkness
felt heavy and
disturbing

I’m not saying
she was evil
maybe the darkness
was just an
overhanging gloom

or maybe she
messed with Ouija
boards and some
dark arts
and her house
was infested
with some
eerie stuff

maybe I
dodged
a bullet
by never
seeing her again
or maybe I
missed out
on true love
and the darkness
was all
in my mind
but I don’t
think it was.

Bob Boyd

I saw two crows
soaring in the sky
I watched them from
my apartment window
to the world.

They rose. They soared.
They flew in circles.
They floated in the sky.

As I watched their
graceful flying
I wondered what it
would be like to
fly like a crow
if only for a few
exhilarating minutes
or in a lucid dream
with a flock of
crow flyers
flapping our wings
into the skies
of the great unknown
and maybe with
some celebratory
caw caw caws.

Bob Boyd

A married French woman
thought she met Brad Pitt

in her Instagram account

and that he was in the hospital
and needed money

for a kidney cancer
treatment

and needed the funds
because his wicked ex
Angelina Joyle

had drained him
of all his money

She sent him 9k
divorced her husband
and got reeled
in for
a total of 850k

before she realized
she had been duped
by scammers and
a fake AI Brad Pitt.

Bob Boyd

He thought he was her intended,
a lovely looking woman from Thailand.
She made him promises and said
she needed money to survive
because she was third world poor.

And because she loved him
and hoped they’d get married
someday when he came to
Thailand to be her husband.

So like a caring gentleman
who wanted to save her
from the poverty and strife,
he sent her $500 every month
and was rewarded with more
love bombs and virtual kisses.

Unknown to him she had
six other intendeds sending
her money every month and
was working on six more
for a sweet setup where she
could be third world rich.

Bob Boyd

Aliens with Transparent Bodies and Glowing Blue Eyes

They came offering peace and with the promise
of making planet earth a better world.

Their appearances were bizarre and unsettling,
ten feet tall, transparent bodies and glowing blue eyes.

They had supernatural powers of persuasion
that convinced governments to believe them.

At first they were heralded as heroes who miraculously
brought peace to the planet.

All was well for two amazingly wonderful years
for all humans and nations

until millions of their reinforcements descended on the planet
and disarmed all the guns and the nukes

and began slaughtering and carving up humans
for tasty meals and gourmet treats.

When they left the planet after years of
gorging themselves on billions of humans,

the few humans who survived their genocidal feasts
prayed they’d never return.

Bob Boyd

Ronathan Blake
was a good man
who lived a good life,
respectable and cordial
admired by many
but no one knew
the inner demons
he struggled with
his desire to
murder others
that he hid
deep inside of him
until one day
he let the demons
out of his dark soul
and murdered
his ex-wife and
their 3 children

Bob Boyd

He worked out for years and had near zero body fat.
He ran triathlons and was supremely fit.
He was strong like a bull and muscled like a god.
He seemed bulletproof invincible to anything
that could harm or take anyone else out.
His diet seemed perfect, never ate any junk food.
Yet, he died young of a massive heart attack.
Sometimes living a long disease-free life
is more about luck than determined intentions.

Bob Boyd

They eat mostly fats and rarely vegetables or fruits;
that suggests they should have heart problems,
but their bodies have adapted genetically
and they have some of the healthiest hearts on earth.

They’re bodies are stocky with short arms and legs
which makes their bodies more resistant to cold.
They thrive in the cold with a metabolism that is designed
to withstanding sub-zero temperatures at deadly levels.

They are the Inuit, the indigenous people of the arctic.

Bob Boyd

When Mark was growing up, he always thought women
were angelic.

They seemed above the follies and the violence
of men.

As he grew older he met some women who
challenged his belief.

But he wasn’t dissuaded until he met the woman
he thought was his first true love.

Her name was Hannah Flores and she was beautiful
and seemed incredibly nice.

Their courtship was as romantic and loving as scenes
out of a romantic movie.

After a year of marital bliss, Mark didn’t see what was coming
when Hannah took out a million dollar insurance plan on him.

Shortly after that he saw the evil in her eyes when
the darkness in her soul came out.

And he realized he was wrong about all women
being angelic.

Right before a shot rang out and he gasped and
fell to the ground dead.

The guy that she’d been seeing held the
smoking gun.

And maybe Mark went to heaven where
the real angelic women live.

Bob Boyd