Poems by Bob Boyd

In the cosmos and in
our atmosphere.
Described as being entities
with advanced intelligence.
Said to be a fourth state
of matter.
Studied by the government
since the 50s.
Some theories allege they
mimic UAPs and are
sentient vehicles of
consciousness.
Supposedly they can
shapeshift and appear
as balls of light or
humanoid shapes
and put you in a flow state.
Electromagnetic, they can
be seen in other shapes too.
This is only a brief
description of them.
They are far more complex
than I have attempted to
describe in this brief poem.

Bob Boyd

She wasn’t what one would describe
as beautiful. But in her own way she
was lovelier than beautiful, and to me
far more desirable. She had a certain
sweetness that seemed to emanate
out of her far beyond that of beautiful
women, far beyond the superficial
appearance of beautiful. And oh how
I would have liked to have been
young enough and lucky enough
to have been with her.

Bob Boyd

It’s amazing
how lush the leaves on the
giant tree outside my apartment
window have become.
So thick, so green, so beautiful.
It’s as if the tree has donned a
green garment that it wears
like fashionable finery.
I cannot
help but wonder if the
tree has any sense of how
grand it looks.

Bob Boyd

Imagine if through transhumanism
humans became more and more like
cyborgs merging with AI and machines.

Imagine if what you consider human was
eclipsed by robotic entities with little or no
traces of humans left.

Imagine if in labs cyborg babies were
created without the need of human
procreation.

Sure it seems impossible, but given
rapid technologic advancements and
futuristic imaginations, that day could
arrive.

But probably not in your or my lifetime,
unless we reincarnated back into a
cyborg world as one of them.

Personally, I don’t like the idea of
humans becoming machines, but
I believe it’s a chilling possibility.

Bob Boyd

When a young man, I never would have wanted
to know when I was going to die.
The fear of dying and knowing when was just too
much for me.
Now as an older man, knowing my dying date
would not be a problem to me.
Perhaps it’s because of my age, or maybe I had
an enlightening moment that erased my dread
of death and knowing when I was going to die.
But I think having lived a long enough life, I’m
okay with dying now and I’d be okay with
knowing when.
And I’d probably binge on desserts and all the
forbidden food claimed to be bad for you in the
days and weeks before I died.

Despite being incredibly beautiful,
she never found lasting love.
Maybe she had bad luck in love.
Maybe she made bad choices.
Astrologically, maybe her stars
were never aligned right.
Her alluring beauty drew many
men but never the right one.
Even when with age her beauty
waned, she still had admirers,
but none provided lasting love.
Perhaps some women, though
blessed with incredible beauty,
are just ill fated with romances
never leading to enduring love.

Bob Boyd

When I was young and extremely optimistic,
I thought I could build muscle as long as I lived,
or at the least, maintain it.

Now from knowledge I know that as a young man
I was ignorant and naively optimistic.

Now that I’m an old man who has lost his
muscle mass, I know from experience that I was
mistaken.

Of course, I could take testosterone replacement
shots and maintain and maybe build some muscle
mass as an old man.

But I feel that there are risks that don’t make it
worth the weekly or biweekly testosterone shots.

So, zenlike, I have come to accept the muscle
wastage effects of aging and the inevitable
decline of one’s body.

Bob Boyd

When someone said, “I will love you till I die,”
I always felt that was too limited, like an
insufficient love.

Like as if death would end a love that should
be forever.

Like a halfhearted declaration of what should
have been a never ending love.

I was always an I will love you forever romantic
and felt limiting love to just this life was unromantic.

Now I think maybe I love you till I die proclamations
are more correct and realistic.

And I love you forevers might be unrealistic and only
wishful, given love might end with death.

Given lovers’ lives might end with death despite
contrary claims by people who have been briefly
dead but not entirely.

Given if as I believe life continues in the afterlife,
maybe romantic love is nonexistent there.

Of maybe we reincarnate and one love is lost in
the transition to another life and another love.

But if I ever fall in love again, though doubtful,
I’m sticking with I will love you forever.

Bob Boyd

Fish Tank Dream

Won a fish tank and fish in a dream.
Didn’t want the tank or the fish.
Have too many tanks and fish.
Had to accept the win in the dream.
I’m unsure why that was.
I fretted over the tank and the fish
I didn’t need or want.
Upon awakening from the dream,
I immediately had a solution.
Just give the tank and the fish away.

Bob Boyd

Dawn is beginning to illuminate the sky
outside my apartment window.
I hear a myriad of song bird melodies.
Their songs remind me of a melancholic
memory of what I learned recently.
Seventy percent of them will be brutally
killed by predators, taken out of the trees
and the skies forever, their songs sung
no more.

And what to me sounds melodious, to a
hovering predator sounds like food.
Small wonder song birds are always so
nervous and fly off when one is near
them.

It seems senseless and cruel that these
little birds singing songs in trees exist
as prey for predators. Be thankful you
didn’t come into this existence as a
songbird who has to live in constant fear
and most likely won’t live a full life.

Bob Boyd