Category: Poetry

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

She left him on a rainy April day.
Tears fell from his eyes like the rain.
She left him for a richer guy,
and told him he was too poor for her.
Though he was surprised and heartbroken,
he lost all his respect and his love for her.
When the well off guy she left him for left her
and broke her selfish, gold digging heart,
she saw how she made a mistake in leaving him,
apologised and pleaded with him to take her back.
But it was too late. He told her in a calm voice
he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Bob Boyd

As his days neared their end,
he faced them alone.
No wife. No family. No friends. All dead.

He had become a hermit, alone
and lonely, but he yielded to his fate.

He’s had eighty-three years of a bittersweet life
with many dreams unfulfilled.

One freezing winter night
he fell asleep on an old creaking bed
in a dingy apartment he couldn’t afford to heat.

He dreamed about those unfulfilled dreams
in that freezing winter night and died during those dreams,
his body stiff and frozen to death.

Bob Boyd

Crossed His Fingers and Prayed

The day his wife died after 50 years of marriage
he wondered what was the point of romantic love
if it eventually ends in such a drastic fashion.
He thought about his son who never found true love
despite having been with ten women in relationships
that never worked out.
He wondered why for some true love never lasts
and why some never find it.
He went to bed, crossed his fingers and prayed
that he’d be with his wife again when he died.
A year later he married a new wife.

Bob Boyd

He said he was dead,
yet his body was still alive
and he walked and he talked.
He said he was dead inside,
that his body
and his mind
were on automatic pilot.
His spirit, he claimed,
had left for the spirit world.
Maybe what he said was true,
or maybe partly true,
when he really died nine days
after he made that proclamation.

Bob Boyd

Let the rains come
I can weather them
Let them pour down
I have an umbrella
Let them try to ruin me
I can survive them
Let them kill me
I’ll embrace death

Bob Boyd

People said she was ugly.
To him she was beautifully unique.
And often a beautiful face conceals
an uglier heart than a so-called ugly face.
People never looked past her face;
they never saw the angelic beauty within.
He saw it. He saw the incomparable beauty within.
And he felt blessed by the Lord above
when she agreed to marry him and give him her love.

Bob Boyd

Tell a lie enough
better if you twist
the truth with it
and many easily
duped people
will believe it
as if it were the
undeniable truth
Even wiser ones
might buy into a
well told lie too.
For a primer on
this, watch the
disgraced MSM.

Bob Boyd

Hundreds of men all over our city
wanted to be with her forever.
Her incredible, mind blowing beauty,
her never forgettable sky blue eyes
gave her a mesmerizing appeal
to any man who was blessed
with the godsent sight of her.
But of the legions of men she
could easily have been with,
she chose a disreputable one
who broke her beautiful heart.
Maybe the heart truly knows
what if really wants for love,
but I have to wonder if her
head got in the way of making
a decent and deserving choice.

Bob Boyd

She posted videos
of her camping alone
in many isolated sites
across the U S of A.
People feared she’d be
murdered by a stalker
or targeted by an evil
serial killer someday.
To the surprise of
those who feared for
her adventurous life,
a giant bear almost
killed her one day
when it nearly took
her life to get at her
food supply in her tent.
And she never slept
in a tent after that.

Bob Boyd

The day is cold and forlorn
but the sun still shines
as if unaware of the
weather conditions.
The moon is more
aware than the sun
when it debuts in the
cold, dark night sky.
Feeling the cold and
the forlornness of
the frigid night weather
the moon covers half
of itself in a blanket
of disappointed darkness.

Bob Boyd

The aliens are in control the man in black said;
they can turn your nuclear weapons off at will
to show you you’re weak and ineffective
compared to their thousands and thousands
of years of advanced alien weapons technology.
They vanish in and out of dimensions and
can even take you with them if they wish.
All they want from you is a peaceful world
free from a devastating nuclear holocaust,
free from the killings of millions and millions.

Bob Boyd

She breezed into my life like a summer’s day
in a cold winter’s night.

She brought sunshine and happiness with her
brightening and gladdening my lonely life.

She gave me six seasons of boundless
joy and immeasurable true love.

Until she breezed out of my life into someone else’s
on a dark and cloudy fall day.

Bob Boyd

At 26 she got diagnosed with
a terminal cancer.
She thought deadly diseases
only happened to other people
or people far older than her.
She bemoans that just when
her life was getting good
she was going to die.
She pines over the life
she will never have and
wonders why her –
why does she have to die
when others her age
still have a shot at life.
It seems so unfair to me.
It make me wonder
why life deals some people
a worse hand than others.

Bob Boyd

She said I should try to publish my poems.
I said I don’t give a damn.
But why, she asked.
I said because I don’t give a damn.
I’m so old it doesn’t matter to me.
Besides no matter how good your poems are
after thousands of years elapse all those
poems are forever forgotten.
And no matter how how good you think you are
as a poet, or as anything
you too are forever forgotten
just like everything else except the
inevitable death of everything.

Bob Boyd

The death of a child
The death of a spouse
A sudden blindness
The murder of a child
The murder of a spouse
A debilitating disease
A terminal cancer
An end of life coma
Your body paralyzed
The loss of your mind
from a dementia
Your country being nuked
Your country being ruined
The cost of a chocolate bar
quadrupling in price

Bob Boyd

He liked to watch girly porno films
in a booth in Boston’s Combat Zone.

He relished seeing the naked women
undressing and doing erotic things.

Couples doing erotic things
were an even better treat for him.

He liked to get drunk and
smoke Lucky Strike cigarettes

while see the sexual gyrations
of the many naked women.

His lusting voyeurism led to
his fiery demise one dark day

when he passed out drunk
with a cigarette in his hand.

And the booth he sat in
rapidly went up in flames

And his life ended watching porn
in the seedy Combat Zone.

Bob Boyd

He met a beautiful woman on a dating app,
the most beautiful woman he ever saw.

She looked as good in person as in her photo
when they met for a date.

He took her to one of the nicest restaurants in his city,
but she complained it wasn’t good enough.

She flirted with the waiter in front of him
and bad-mouthed the waiter when he didn’t reciprocate.

He said to her, “I can’t believe you’re acting like this.”
She said, “That’s the way I am.”

Then that most beautiful woman he ever saw
became one of the ugliest women in the world,

and his date turned into an abysmal nightmare
that he couldn’t wait to escape from.

And he never saw that most beautiful face again
that masked a repulsive person.

Bob Boyd

She saw the hot air balloons in the sky
and counted a baker’s dozen of them.
She counted in baker’s dozens
because she really was a baker
who baked breads and pastries
starting at 4 am every single day.

Between rolling dough and
stuffing breads and pastries,
she dreamed of marrying a
rich man and traveling to an
exotic country in an air balloon
and having an exciting life
like the lives people had in movies,
instead of baking breads and pastries
starting at 4 am every single day.

Bob Boyd

Maybe they’re trouble
an embarrassment
a disappointment
and maybe a disgrace
but you have to admit
they add some drama
to what may be some
necessary turmoil in
otherwise dull lives.

Bob Boyd