Category: Poetry

She had a paranormal feeling about her
The villagers who knew her saw the proof
When the witch hunters came for her.
She uttered a powerful curse and
The witch hunters turned into blazing flames,
Their charred bodies, smoking remains.
She had her psychic eyes on Raymond,
A predatory Roman Catholic priest.
With her second sight she saw
He had raped a local deaf woman,
Who was also mentally ill, and he
Had molested two altar boys
And was lusting for more victims.
She had no respect for his religion
She followed the ancient ways
And she consider the Catholic
Priest’s church a house of hell
Because of his devilish inequities.
She performed a vengeance ritual
That commanded the night skies.
That night a lightning bolt stuck and
Killed the priest and other bolts
Stuck his church and it went down
In monstrous burning flames.

Bob Boyd

Mechanical movements
In the beginning.
Fluid as humans
Eventually.
Strong, faster and
Smarter than us
Taking jobs we
Used to do.
But the crucial
Question is
Will they be
Friend or foe.

Bob Boyd

Shaivite sadhu ascetics
Dwell in graveyards
Meditate on corpses
Smear cremation ashes
All over their bodies
Eat the flesh of dead
Aging preventative
They faithfully believe

Use human skulls
For decorations
Macabre by choice
Drink alcohol
Smoke cannabis
Believe embracing
Darkness and
Social taboos

Are the ultimate ways
To higher consciousness
Non-Duality aka Advita
Enlightenment aside
God forbid if
They get ahold
Of your corpse
Kemosabe

Bob Boyd

Hiking in a National Park
she heard a man yelling, “help me! help me! ….”
She looked all around the area where the call came from,
but no one was there and the calling continued.
She reported the mysterious pleas for help
to a park ranger, who heard it too
but couldn’t find the source of the voice.
After the voice ceased,
Searchers and scent dogs arrived at the scene;
No trace of anyone was found.
An expert on missing people and the paranormal
said, “It’s simple. The man walked into a portal.”

Bob Boyd

In the Autumn of 1507 in Stirling, Scotland
an Italian-born abbot, John Damian de Falcuis
studied birds in flight and believed he could fly.
He fashioned the feathers of eagles into wings
he wore on his arms. Clad in the makeshift
flying machine, he leaped off Stirling Castle.
For a moment, he hovered in the sky
as if, like a bird he really could fly;
then plummeted seventy feet to
the hard, merciless ground. Miraculously,
he survived, woke up in a doctor’s urgent care,
with many injuries and a shattered thigh bone.
He never could walk properly after that,
and he stayed out of the sky.

Bob Boyd

suddenly she could summon spirits;
she was amazed she gained that power.
they told her things she never knew.
it was all so utterly amazing.
but what she didn’t realize,
what she hadn’t woken up too
was the fact she had become
a spirit just like them, and
she was irrevocably dead.

Bob Boyd

old and her husband gone
for a younger woman
she lives a lonely life
a trip to the grocery store
like socialization for her
her days are running out
her life boring and dreary
she wonders how it all
became so empty when
it was all so wonderful
before she got old and
lost her looks and her
cheating husband

Bob Boyd

It must have been a mental aberration
That made him think he was a dog
And always dress in a dog costume.
His wife, tired of his craziness, left him.
He barked her a long, forlorn goodbye.
Without her to feed him, he soon died,
A melancholic, human dog impostor.
And he reincarnated into a bona fide dog.

His ex wife, an old woman when he
Returned to life as a charming chihuahua,
Unaware of his former life as her mate
Purchased him at a petstore in Idaho.

Bob Boyd

Unknown in her life, a quiet reclusive woman
In death her supernatural powers shone
Lights flashed above her grave day and night
Onlookers felt a palpable healing force
Streaming from her cemetery plot
Locals claimed she was a saint or a witch
Tired of all the chatter and crazed visitors
The cemetery owner unearthed her body
And cremated her remains and died
Of a fright a day later, his face horrified

Bob Boyd

I’d been on sixteen ghosts hunts
But never saw any real ghosts like Midnight Mary.
In fact, I never really saw a ghost before Mary.
Sure my equipment suggested ghost activity,
But that’s not as spooky as coming face to face
With a real dead spirit roaming the earth.

I’d heard about a ghost named Midnight Mary,
At the old, abandoned Bradmore Hotel.
I even saw an alleged photo of her ghostly face.
The photo looked fake, bogus urban legend stuff.
Supposedly people died messing with Mary.
Inside the Bradmore heard a scary rustling near me.
Shined my flashlight in the direction of the sound
Rats dashed away to their hiding places.
Searched the entire hotel, saw no sign of Mary.

Just more nonsense I mumbled to myself.
Drove to a motel, disappointed, another fake lead.
Retired for the night, fell into a dreamless sleep.
Heard an eerie sound fill the room, thought it was a dream,
One minute like a witch’s cackle, the next a ghostly wail.
Felt hands clutching my throat choking me to death,
Frightened, opened my eyes: Midnight Mary!
Died of shock in that old motel bed, my face frozen in fear.
Sometimes when you hunt ghosts, they hunt you.
Now as if I were bitten by a vampire, I’m a ghost too,
And every night I haunt this motel in which I died.

Bob Boyd

The aliens came through my bedroom wall.
They scared the bejesus out of me!
Little greys seized me, hypnotized me,
and levitated me to their UFO in the sky
When the head grey alien saw me,
he grimaced and measured me.
I saw the look of disappointment
in his big black almond-shaped eyes.
He frowned at the little greys and spoke
some kind of weird alien gibberish,
and his little grey minions sent me home
like an undesirable, undersized fish.
Frankly I was grateful to not make the cut.
My cow Bessie did, and she is in the field
of my dairy farm behind my house
Surgically sliced, diced, and bloodless.

Bob Boyd

Aliens in spacecrafts
flying in and
out of the sea
real or utter bunk
credible witnesses
seemingly
but man made
or extraterrestrial
If aliens, grays,
tall whites
reptilians or
little green men?
An agreeable
mystery to me
I’m beginning to
like bizarre
theories and beliefs
Fills a little time
with fascinating
stories and claims
like all these Bigfoot
sightings with no
body alive or dead
and no irrefutable proof.
But back to seagoing
Alien air and sea crafts
Here’s another theory
maybe AI robots
collecting whatever
from the sea and
as unable to communicate
with us as a kid’s
windup toy.
Or maybe they’re
interdimensional.

Bob Boyd

Consider the theory that aliens are the future us
A curious evolutionary leap, more so than
Cro magnons to our current refined appearances
Imagine future humans, theorized to look like this:
Reconfigured faces and bodies in a far future
Larger heads, bigger brains, oval eyes, thinner bodies
Navigating the past in saucer-shaped time machines
Perhaps traveling back in time but for what
An attempt to reshape humanity’s future
Stop a nuclear war that would kill off many of us
And why so mysterious and obscure
If the theory is remotely plausible
And speaking of time, maybe, as the saying goes
Time will tell.

Bob Boyd

Before World War II, invisible, interdimensional aliens came
From two alien worlds, one world full of evil, demonic creatures,
The other full of compassionate, godlike beings.
First the malevolent ones occupied Hitler and leaders of the axis powers
to start the agreed upon alien war and take over planet earth,
Occupy it and destroy human life.
The benevolent ones occupied Roosevelt and the leaders of the allied powers
To try to win the agreed upon alien war and save the planet
And prevent the mass destruction of human life.
The war won by the aliens controlling the allied powers,
They destroyed all the aliens controlling the axis powers
And remained on earth invisibly with the intent to try to prevent humans
From destroying themselves.

Bob Boyd

She said she astral traveled to Jupiter and Mars.
I said, isn’t it risky to leave your body like that.
No way, she said. I’ve been doing this for years.
She said tonight I’m going to travel to Neptune.
I wondered if she’d get lost traveling so far.
Next day her body was unoccupied, and I didn’t
Know what to do. She had a pulse, but barely.
A month passed and she still had a weak pulse,

I was worried, knowing she had gotten lost.
Her doctor declared she was comatose.
I knew that was untrue. I knew she got lost
Somewhere in the vastness of the astral plane.
A year went by, still no sign of her, she expired.
At the wake, she sat up in the coffin smiling
Alive and back from her trip to Neptune.

Bob Boyd

At 12 o’clock am you came knocking
Again, and again, and again
You foul, evil thing
You tried to beguile him
Again, and again, and again
But he was more powerful than you
And not fooled by your incomparable beauty
Yet, you persisted
Night, after night, after night
Until he summoned a familiar
From the depths of his id
You never imagined he had
Darkness against darkness
Horror against horror
Too terrifying
Too formidable
For foul, evil you
Too late you learned
Disembodied, dead
Succubus

Holy, devout deviant studying to be a priest
Hoping God would heal all the evil in him.
In his last year in seminary still unhealed,
Killed a young woman behind Salisbury Station.
After the murder, he got assigned to a parish in Italy,
Killed seven more young women, never got caught.
Overcome with heinous bloodlust, got careless.
Murdered a young woman in the confessional.
Right before the police were ready to arrest him,
He hung himself to death in the church’s chapel,
Went to Hell and became one of the Devil’s own.

Bob Boyd

Wendigo Wendigo where did you go?
I’ve searched for you everywhere high and low.
Are you afraid of my Werewolf prowess?
Does my howl render you powerless?
Someday under an auspicious full moon
I’ll find you and your body I will hewn
Before you die I’ll say this is for Sue
My sister you killed in 2002.

Bob Boyd

Boulders made of granite
Fields of them
Making people
Disappear in them
No one knows how
Or why
Some think UFOs
Live under them
Another theory
Maybe a portal
Or two
Is the clue
But nobody
Knows for sure
More 411
Disappearances

Bob Boyd

I heard the horrifying howls
That chilled my blood
That terrified me
That froze my body
And I knew another
Person was going to
Be shredded to pieces
On that full moon night
And I knew the beast
Was coming for me
I barred my doors
Locked my windows
Loaded my shogun
With regular bullets
Hoping without silver
My shots could stop him
The werewolf smashed
The door open with ease
And leaped upon me
Before I could shoot
A miracle happened
Huge hairy hands
Pulled him off me
And strangled him
To a whining death
Bigfoot to the rescue

Bob Boyd