Category: Poetry

As a wayward teenager,
I wanted to be a rockstar
for less than artistic reasons.
the girls were more important
than the rock and roll music.
However, I sucked at singing
and lacked the patience,
and probably the talent,
to learn to play a guitar
or even a set of drums,
but I was hell on wheels
at playing an air guitar.

Bob Boyd

she wakes up each morning
makes her bed just right
has a cup of instant coffee
ponders her tired existence
old, alone and depressed
yesterday’s beauty gone
as are all the adoring men
her social life diminished
she’s bent and haggard
gets around on a walker
age has wrecked her
love has flown away
dates are nonexistent
except for her date with
the grim reaper of death

bob boy

It’s All About the Money

Young women shedding their clothes en masse online,
displaying their wares to the internet world.
Screw modesty and decency. It’s all about the money.
Young women bragging about sleeping with many men
to online audiences of thousands and thousands.
One bragged about 100. Another about screwing teens.
Forget about romance and love. It’s all about money.
Ill fated fame and fortune, never mind the degeneracy.
Never mind self respect. Never mind nagging morality.
It’s all about the attention. It’s all about the money.

Bob Boyd

His friends told him he could do better
than what they saw as his ugly wife,
who was more than beautiful to him.
They said he could have done better
with beautiful trophy wives like theirs.
But he knew his so called ugly wife
had more beauty in her than their
outwardly beautiful trophy wives
and his marriage to his wife lasted
for many loving and wonderful years
while their marriages ended in
bitter divorces, heartaches, the
loss of their grand homes, and
the costs of exorbitant alimonies.

Bob Boyd

When my ex wife began dabbling
in the dark arts

I had a chilling feeling things weren’t
going to end well for her

When I learned she was casting evil spells
intended to kill me

I knew either she lost her mind completely
or the darkness had possessed her

I didn’t take her crazy attempts to kill me
with bogus evil spells seriously

until I contracted a severe bout with Covid
that nearly took me out.

But when I recovered from Covid in a few weeks,
I regained my skeptical senses

and felt sorry for my bogus, evil spells
casting witchy wife

who eventually went mad and had
to be institutionalized.

Bob Boyd

I once met a woman who liked spiders.
She gave them free run of her house.
The thought of spiders all over her home
gave me the willies and made me cringe.
I imagined waking up one day with her
and spiders all over me and her bed.
Though she was beautiful and I felt
a strong attraction to her beauty
and her endearing, magnetic ways,
her spider obsession was repulsive
to me and way too much to endure.

Bob Boyd

AI girlfriends replacing human women,
no arguments, no drama, no nonsense
no put downs, no cheating, no heartaches
no breakups, no divorces, no alimony,
no bullshit claims of toxic masculinity,
no insufferable feminist toxic femininity.
Sure AI girlfriends are not as real,
but some women aren’t really real either,
and unlike an AI girlfriend, some will leave
you for a richer man and the love of money.

Bob Boyd

People expiring all over the world every day
to me makes human lives seem as insignificant
as the carpenter ants eking out their livings
beneath our wandering, shoed feet.
To me the sheer numberless numbers of humans
across the vastness of the densely peopled world
makes our humanity seem far less important,
far less significant than you and I might think.

Bob Boyd

I hear the trains rumbling by my apartment
and wonder what it would be like to hop on one
like the hobos who hopped on them in the past.
I wonder where I would end up, maybe in Timbuktu.
I wonder if I could safely ride on top of one and
live there for awhile in a camping tent
during rainy or snowy or freezing days
and sleep in a warm sleeping bag
to the rumbles and the rhythm of the train.
And hop on other trains along the way
and travel like that all over the country
and maybe even to Canada and Peru.

Bob Boyd

He was grateful when she left.
They didn’t really have much in common;
it was like he wasted his precious love on her
and she wasted her precious love on him
in a pointless mismatch that made no sense,
that their lonely hearts had misled them into,
that he and she thought was real true love.
He didn’t trust his feelings or his love after that.
And he guarded his heart, and though he was
cautiously willing to gamble on love again and
hoped he’d get another chance for real romance,
true love was illusive and never came his way again.

Bob Boyd

She was a UFO and aliens fanatic
for much of her life.
She read all she could
about them.
She watched TV specials
about UFO and aliens.
She tried to psychically
made contact with aliens
for three or more years.
And she might had made
contact with them
on the day she disappeared.

Bob Boyd

After his wife died
and their love was over,
he wondered if love was
just for procreation and
nothing more.

He wondered if all
his years of committed love
had meant nothing
in the greater scheme of life.

That the purpose of his love
was merely producing children
to populate the planet
with more humans
for unknown and maybe
pointless purposes
if humans nuked themselves
out of existence.

He sighed and got drunk
for the first time in his life
and wondered if
he’d ever love again
in this life or the next
if there was a next.

Bob Boyd

She fancied herself a progressive feminist
who vainly assaulted men’s natural masculinity,
labeling it as toxic and abhorrently offensive,
as if she wanted to emasculate manly men.
She seemed bitter and a hater of manliness
for whatever twisted and wrongheaded reasons.
She decided on a passive, submissive man
for her partner in life, but grew bored with his
submissions and weakened natural masculinity,
but that was the bed she chose to sleep in
for the rest of her masculinity disdaining life.

Bob Boyd

I’d take cute over beautiful.
Beautiful can be detrimental
to a woman’s humility.
Cute can be a more humble
and endearing presentation
of a woman’s wonderment.
Beautiful can lead a woman
astray seeking gold over
true and real romantic love.
Cute can be more accepting
loving you for whom you are
instead of how much you own.
Though beautiful has a shine
like a scintillating diamond
and sometimes humility and
goodness reside in it,
if I were lucky or blessed
enough to have a choice,
I’d still prefer a cute woman
over one who is beautiful.

Bob Boyd

Head of a dog
body of a saint
the two seem
so incompatible
yet revered as
a notable in the
legions of saints.
Did he bark or
talk, this I don’t
know. But what-
ever the case
he made his
mark in the icons
of Christendom.

Bob Boyd

evil seems to have free reign
on this ever revolving planet.
if i were the Lord of it all
i would intercede in the
birthing of bad seeds
and save them from evil
before they were born
and seed the planet with
good and peaceful people.

bob boyd

everything lives and dies
plants, animals, people,
but what about water
does it die or simply
change into other
ever changing forms,
like a wheel of eternal
incarnations?

what about the infinite cosmos
that seems forever and ever
does it ever die?

or does the seemingly mythical Shiva
really dance to a tune that dissolves it all
and everything in it?

bob boyd

watching Deadly Women on YouTube
more women murdering men
or having men murdered
than I would have imagined
after watching that program
many times over the years

seems a sin against creation
that the usually gentler sex
could ever be as bad as evil men
when it comes to murderous tendencies
accept in self defense against attacks
by male monsters who physically abuse them

it’s as if a satan sabotages some of God’s
fairer creations by injecting a doze
of murderous evil into them
before they exit the prison of the womb
or maybe satan is alloted his own
before they are born into this world

bob boyd

The squirrel in my neighborhood
is quick and wise.

He knows who is a threat and
who is not.

He sees the cats eyeing him.
He knows they wonder
what he’d taste like
and believe he’d be a gourmet meal
compared to the
uninspiring, dry cat food they are fed,
the occasional dead bird they consume.
But he’s too smart and too quick for them
to ever catch him and find out.

He knows they dream of him
being on their menus al la carte,
and he knows he’ll never be
their full course meal or
even their tasty snack.

He sees them as nuts for
even considering such a foolish dream
as he races up trees with astonishing rapidity
and speeds away on telephone wires with an ease
and a grace they can never emulate.

Bob Boyd

Why is it most people don’t get an answer
from God when they fervently pray to him
for divine interventions during troubled times?

Although some claim they do,
are they talking themselves into believing
they are getting answers from the Absolute?

Are some of the people who claim they have
a personal communication line to God
that he always answers, lying to get attention
or to sell books and make money?

And if some souls are favored with answers from God,
why them and no one else?

I was thinking if God was less silent, maybe the world
would have less troubles and less atheists and agnostics,
and maybe it would be a more holy and loving world.

And because of God’s silence, I can see why some people
don’t believe in God or lose faith in Him.

But, of course, I’m merely a mortal who can in no way
fathom the designs of the workings of the cosmos
or the inscrutable reasons for a God who remains silent.
But I can see why some people are atheists and some
people give up on a silent God.

Bob Boyd