Poems by Bob Boyd

If they disagree with you,
they’ll want you dead.
Completely lost souls,
they’re full of hate.
They’ll cheer and laugh
if you are shot to death.
They’re fucked up
in the head.
Fuck you Diabolicals.
One day you and
your ghoulish hate
will be dead as well.

Bob Boyd

Birds on wing,
what an amazing thing.
How I wish I could fly like them,
even in skybound dreams.
Imagine effortlessly winging in
the sky above and gliding
on the wind currents.
Imagine the beautiful views
from up in the cloudy heavens.
Imaging the feelings as you
soared in the skies and as
you gently landed back
down on earth.

Bob Boyd

Raccoons broke into a house
bridged the cat flap in the front door.
Swiped the pet food, ate the snacks.
Frockled on the chairs, lounged in the couches.
Messed with the computers, watched some TV,
ripped books apart, tore up some magazines.
Sneaky, masked critters will probably get off scot free
for their bold and flagrant B & E.

Bob Boyd

Hundreds of thousands marching in the
streets of London, patriots, all of them.
Young people, middle age people, children
and old people, patriots, all of them.
Flags flying. Drums pounding. Trumpets blowing
People singing, chanting, save our country songs and chants.
A swelling fervor of emotion, patriotism, and love of country.
Prayers, hopes, pleas, demands to save their country.
Instead of God save the king – It’s God save our country.

Bob Boyd

The night was dark. The moon was full.
Howls filled the forest. Campers in tents shuddered.
Some packed up their tents and raced away.
Others made of stronger stuff with guns stayed.
The howls grew nearer. Campers’ fears increased.
Those of stronger stuff braced themselves and
shouldered their guns.
When the dozen or more werewolves appeared
and gunshots lit up the full moon night,
the spray of bullets only bounced off the beasts.
The slaughtered campers made of stronger stuff
lay in pieces on the blood drenched ground.

Bob Boyd

humans the cogs in the wheels
or workforces that power the world
of the big wheels who run it
bodies are like machines
that eventually break down
it’s all machinery

bob boyd

He was raised by a good family.
And he had been a good kid
until he became radicalized
by a twisted brainwashing
from the legacy media and
the college he attended.
He joined a radical group
that promoted violence and
disruption of those whose
views they had been led to
see as Nazis and fascists.
They blindly held to those
false and harmful beliefs,
demonizing those whose
beliefs they disagreed with.
The once good kid raised
by a good and loving family
is now in jail for life for
murdering an innocent man
whose views he killed him for.

Bob Boyd

Jeremy liked to camp out at night.
Never had any encounters with
wild beasts, even on spooky
nights when sounds were scary.
Until the night he heard an owl,
and they quietly came for him.
Stunned by unknown means
into a complete submission,
not believing what was happening
to him that otherworldly night,
he woke up semiconscious and
standing in a tube on a giant
alien space ship with aliens
extracting bodily fluids from him
until he eventually died in that
stand up experimental device.
And no one on earth ever knew
what had happened to him.

Bob Boyd

Gone forever
Dead
In a heaven
No one knows
For sure
In a hell
Doubtful
Probably
Doesn’t exist
Coming back
Reincarnation
Maybe
Maybe not
Dead
Into nothingness
A possibility
One thing
Is certain
Flesh and blood
Eventually
Only bones
In the ground

Bob Boyd

I’ve often wondered why
We have to have psychopaths
In this ever turning world
Where most people
Are not as emotionless
Are not as harmful

Some psychopaths
Are devoid of feeling
Some psychopaths
are inclined to kill

There are so
Many of them
When one dies
Another rises up
Like undead
vampires reborn

Why
Why
Why
Do we have
to have
and suffer
THEM?

Bob Boyd