Poems by Bob Boyd

The nightcrawlers rose to the earth’s surface
after the rains drenched it.

They came up to migrate in the watery ground
to new homes and environments, a few of
them to mate.

They did not see the danger above, as robins
swooped down on them, capturing and devouring many.

Those that stayed underground faced greater dangers
when moles tunneled into their domain and destroyed
the entire nightcrawler population, nightcrawler doomsday,
a worm apocalypse.

Who would have thought being a worm would have posed
such deadly risks?

Not even worms have any safety in this violent predatory world.

Bob Boyd

He felt death coming,
as if it were tangible
like a physical entity
maybe it was
maybe the grim
was real to him and he
felt that figurative
being perceptively coming
for him
perceptively staking
him
seeking his death
to add to the millions
upon millions of
deaths worldwide
every year
the day he died he
believed he felt grim’s
arms around him
as a heart attack
took him out
maybe he was right
maybe the collective
imagination conjured
grim up to the point
some sensitive believers
can feel him coming
provided they
believe in him

Bob Boyd

You’re taking on another person’s peculiarities and problems.
You’re inviting some strife into your life when arguments happen.
You’re risking disappointment and a looming heartache.
The one you love might do things that make you disturbingly jealous.
The one you love may want you to do tiresome activities you don’t want to do.
The one you love might eventually come up with annoying complaints about you that have no validity, that are grating on your very life.
The one you love might eventually stop loving you and leave your heart and your life shattered.
Is it any wonder some are driven to love with artificial intelligences
minus any heartaches, emotional tolls or strife?

Bob Boyd

Reports of haunted houses everywhere,
have the dead nothing better to do
than hang around gloomy old houses?
I don’t know about you, but when I’m
dead, I’ll not be living in a dusty old haunt.
I’ll not self exile myself to such a boring afterlife.
When expired there has to be better things to do,
like consuming an ambrosiac in some blissful paradise
with an incredibly fairy tale like soulmate or riding
unicorns through splendorous, lucent realms
or attending a Jimmy Buffet concert for free and
listening to him singing about 5 o’clock somewhere.
Screw hanging out in old boring houses, those are
just a few of the better things I would do.

Bob Boyd

Joseph says he sees his deceased wife alive in dreams.
Marilyn says she hears her dead husband talking to her nearly everyday.
A bereaved mother sees visions of her son who died in a war.
A dying woman says she sees her deceased husband waiting
to be with her in the afterlife.
Others say they often experience coincidences they know
are from the dead.
Many people report varying encounters with those passed on.
Could all those people be imaging things, or do the dead some
times not stay entirely dead?

Bob Boyd

At first their love was imbued with bliss.
Everyday felt wonderful, nearly ecstatic.
They knew their love was never ending.
After about six months they couldn’t
believe the initial euphoria had passed.
Their love dimmed. Arguments ensued.
They gradually began drifting apart,
realizing they had nothing in common.
In the end when she left him for another,
and the mirage of true love faded away
to him it all seemed so pointless, and
he never got fooled by love again.

Bob Boyd

Jason, a friend for years, revealed a secret to me.
He bought an inflatable doll on Amazon, and to
his surprise, he said he fell in love with it.
He claimed he bought it only as a curiosity, kind
of like an experiment to see if it could arouse
any romantic feelings in him.
Despite the fact Jason seemed sane, he insanely
claimed the doll talked to him.
I met the doll Jason named Veronica, but I didn’t
hear her talking, except through Jason’s interpretations.
That was ten years ago, and Jason and his blow up doll
are still together, and he says he’s happy.
I will say this. He’s done better with his inflatable woman
then I have with flesh and blood ones.
And far as I can tell, he hasn’t lost his sanity, so maybe
he’s on to something, low maintenance and lasting love.

Bob Boyd

A hurricane blew a Christian church apart.
People wondered where was God.
Why did He let the church be demolished?
Where was the Divine protection?
Were the church members not holy enough?
Had the pastor comitted some grave sin?
As for me, I think some disastors are random
with no regard for the sanctity of a building.
Just as I don’t think praying has ever repaired
a broken down car, I don’t think disasters are
preventable by the holiness of a place of worship.
Of course, maybe there are some exceptions.
But in my belief that would be hard to prove.
I don’t think randomn disasters make any exceptions.
If a church if left untouched by a hurricane when
other buildings are demolished, I think it is more
likely just coincidental and not divine protection.

Bob Boyd

He had no problem with preying on
drunk women.
He had no ethics about it.
He didn’t think of himself as a rapist,
but he was damn close to it.
He enjoyed taking advantage of women
when they were close to unconscious.
He made have thought of those as
just more scores.
I think of them as nefarious, the dark
and soulless action of a monster.

Bob Boyd

I swore I’d never use self service checkouts;
they put people out of work.
But I failed in my noble intentions.
Got tired of standing in lines.
Got hooked on the convenience.
Got seduced by the speed.
Out in minutes, occasionally seconds,
no waiting in long lines.
And sometimes there are no cashiers
and you only have the self service checkouts.

I even go to a grocery store a little further away
than one near me, the checkouts are less busy,
and they have more of them.
Thank God I’m retired because someday
a self service machine probably would have
put me out of work too.

Bob Boyd