The day is tried, the night is weary
old age drained them of their vitality
and they’re slowly dying
the sun is burning out
the moon has evaporated
the clouds have left the sky
the wind has lost its steam
the rain is too weak to pour
the earth is parched
the world is dry
there are no birds to sing
and no humans to cry
everything has died

Bob Boyd

A tiger fell over a 15 foot cliff into a crocodile
infested river.

He tried to climb back up the cliff, but each time
the cliff, made of dirt or clay, crumbled,

and he fell back into the river and tried
running in the shallow part of the river

to find a part of the cliff he could climb
to the top of the cliff on,

but he couldn’t get a grip on the cliff
and, tired, dropped back

into the river and into the jaws of the
hungry crocodiles that devoured the poor tiger.

Bob Boyd

you could say I know the score
and more, the waxing, the waning,

the hearts, the flowers, the joys,
the sorrows, promises kept,

promises forgotten, love that lasts,
love that ends, and love that never
dies – unconditional.

Bob Boyd

I write that because they all seem to be revealed
through hypnosis,

and I don’t trust information I believe is suggested
and implanted through hypnosis,

but these hypnotic alien abduction revelations sure
get fascinating.

For example, abductees claiming aliens extracted
their semen and eggs to build human hybrids.

For example, abductees claiming they saw what
looked like humans standing in upright tubes.

But the wildest revelations of all is the hypnotic induced
claim that aliens created us.

You can choose to believe all that, and I can understand
how you could, even the aliens created us part.

As for me, I’m skeptical, and I know when people
have near death experiences and reach the zenith,

they’re seeing Source aka God and not alien overlords.

Bob Boyd

Even though you left me home a lot
when you found new female friends and

spent more time with them than
with me –

I should have loved you more.

Even though when I got tired of being alone
and neglected,

and I left you and never came back to you
despite you wanting me back –

I should have loved you more.

A couple of decades later I felt sad for you
when you died at a young 50, and if we meet

again in the afterlife … I will love you more.

Bob Boyd

You looked so beautiful in your photo after
you died and came back to life –

after you saw paradise and spent some
time there.

It was as if you brought some paradise
back with you in your eyes

and in you smile – after you died and
came back to life.

Bob Boyd

In high school she wasn’t attractive, but when she grew older
she began winning beauty contests, as if like the dull caterpillar

morphing into the beautiful butterfly, she metamorphosed from
an unattractive teenager to an incredibly beautiful young woman.

And I have never understood how within a few years her
looks had changed so dramatically, so miraculously. And

how I wish I had asked her out when she had a massive
crush on me in high school.

Bob Boyd

When I brought my new date, Linda, to my house,
my dog Moby kept growling at her. I apologized to
Linda and shut Moby away in a spare room. Linda
had brought some strawberry wine she made herself
for me to try, and it tasted so good that I drank three
glasses. But afterwards I got woozy and passed out.
When I woke up, Linda was gone with my laptop, my
wallet and other valuables I had in my house. Then I
let Moby out of the room and he wagged his tail happy
to see me but gave me a look that said I told you so.

Bob Boyd

An impoverished old man on Social Security visited
a thrift store to save some money on clothes. To his
surprise, the clothes were marked up almost as high
as in a department store. He checked the prices on
other items as well and felt like he was in the
Macy’s of thrift stores. Pissed. Seeing the store was
a rip off, he had no qualms ripping the store off for
two shirts and a pair of wing tip shoes. Because he
pretended to be feeble and walked with a cane, the
sales ladies didn’t suspect him of stealing. And he
hobbled out of the store, a Robin Hood for himself.

Bob Boyd

His aunt, slightly eccentric, had to have
everything just right, and if he didn’t
have something in the right place when
he put it back, she’d snap and he’d get
a quick slap. But the slaps didn’t hurt.
She was 87 and weak. He was 23 and
strong. His aunt was saintly the rest of
the time, so much so, she could have
been sainted. And when she died she
left him ten thousand dollars in her
will, which hurt more than the slaps.
He blew it all on whisky and women,
and the one he loved broke his heart,
when she left him after his inheritance
was gone, and he wished his aunt had
been alive to give him a quick slap when
he started wasting all that free money.

Bob Boyd

Young people partying in the streets of Soho, London,
cruising the bars, high on the merriment. No concerns.
Enjoy it while you can. Your world is closing in. Your
country is collapsing. People in prison for tweets. Be
careful what you say or write on the Internet. Military
age Muslim men, economic migrants, 46,000 in 2026,
invading your country, put up in hotels, given benefits
and money. A two-tier justice system. Good luck if you
are a patriot. You’re on the wrong side of woke politics,
and they call you Right Wing, as if an enemy of the
country you love and may have fought for. No matter.
And be careful about hoisting your country’s flag. It
might be against the law to do so, don’t want to offend
the foreigners who can fly their flags freely. You’re just
a citizen who pays taxes, and you’re probably British
white, another strike against you. And J D Vance and
others believe you’ll be the first Muslim country with
nukes. Even Big Ben knows your time is running out.
And soon your lives will be in shambles. So party on
in Soho while you still can.

Bob Boyd

You think you got troubles? Thank your lucky stars
you weren’t born a feeder goldfish.

Not good enough to be a privileged upper class,
pedigree goldy, considered unfit for a proper pet.

Screwed from the day you were born for one
purpose – to be eaten by a bigger fish.

Imprisoned in a glass gulag, no way out, no escape,
except death by being eaten.

So the next time you take a hissy over a bad hair day,
or some goofball leaving you that you were better

off without anyway, thank your lucky stars you
weren’t born a feeder goldfish.

Bob Boyd

I see the bees carrying pollen attached to both their hind legs,
like little yellow buckets.

I learn bees work 6 to 8 hours finding the pollen and flying
it to their hives with those pollen pellets stuck to their legs.

I wonder how they got the kind of endurance that enables
them to fly with those pellets weighing 30% of their weight

and fly the six to eight hours daily with those heavy loads,
perhaps they start as bee young’uns and carrying only

10% of their weight and gradually work up to the 30%. And
I wonder if they get paid for their work.

Maybe they get paid piecemeal (pollenmeal?), or a
good hourly rate with overtime after 6 hours.

I hope they don’t do all that labor-intensive work for free.

Bob Boyd

At first

you’re blown away

by her beauty

but in time

that blown away

feeling fades

and you

see beyond

the superficial

beyond

the beauty

three times

I experienced this

three times

I was

disappointed

after I saw

what was

deeper than

their beauty

what was

inside their

pretty heads

Bob Boyd

I was married to a woman named Ruth once,
looking back she was probably the nicest woman

I’d ever been with.

Except

she was an extrovert and I am mostly an introvert.

So

after she got a new job and met a lot of girlfriends,
she began spending more time with them than with me.

And

after being lonely together, eventually I left her,
and sadly decades later in her early fifties she died.

Now

I wonder if we meet in the afterlife would her having
been an extrovert and me an introvert on earth matter?

And would we have another go at love and would it
fare better in the afterlife than it did on earth?

Bob Boyd

In my waning years, a few, maybe many, sometimes I think I’d
like to have one last shot at finding true love.

For example, that one last shot with the soulmate I never
found in this life.

And, maybe, just maybe, if she or I died first, when
the one remaining died, we’d be together forever.

But then I think what if you fell in love with a woman
and she gave you no end of misery and trouble,

and you went out of this life disappointed and pissed off?
And I cease the idealized, wishful, foolish thinking.

Bob Boyd

I read mice build holes in houses near gaps in houses,
utility lines, pipes, etc. I imagine plans for the holes
are drawn up by engineer mice for the locations,
the desirability, and the accessibility.

I imagine construction mice, probably unionized,
do the actual building of the holes and homes inside
the holes.

I imagine interior designer mice finish the houses
with their special skills and flourishes.

And, last, I picture families of mice buying the
holed homes with whatever money or barter
mice use for commerce.

Bob Boyd

When you made the fatal mistake
to what love we had left

by telling me to use my fucking head

you didn’t know that aside from pissing me off
and getting a strong rebuke from me

your disrespectful words sounded the death knell
for our marriage already in peril

due to you letting your body go into
obscene obesity

and once you remarked that you would get in
shape for a new man if our marriage ended

probably as a warning that you could find
another

but you didn’t know that in my heart and mind
the marriage was over

and soon I’d find another and leave you for that
unforgivable use your fucking head affront.

Bob Boyd

He had weird psycho eyes that were
unblinking and disturbingly bright.

Yet a lot of fools followed him, believing
his insane claims they were all aliens

and needed to relocate to their real
home on some other faraway planet.

They drank the poison they called elixir
that they thought would take them there,

but instead of journeying to that world,
they landed in the world of the dead.

Bob Boyd

I have made a teddy bear world, and for me it’s like
a brief return to the innocence of childhood

that feels so pure and nice, and I wonder if that is
the same feeling I’ll feel in the afterlife.

Bob Boyd