Lousy Incarnations and Got Pissed at God

I was a dog before I died
And learned to my delight
I was going to be a human
In my next incarnation.

My soul beamed with joy
When about to be reborn
As Howard Cassidy in
An idyllic Idaho town.

At first, my human life
Was fun and exciting
Until I was diagnosed with
Incurable chronic depression,
And I began taking drugs
To blot out the dark despair.

From there on I had a lousy life,
Hopeless days, sleepless nights,
Homeless, ragged and hurting,
Begging in the streets,
Died of a drug overdose.

In the afterlife I asked God
Why I had to have such
A lousy human life when
I thought I’d got an upgrade

I was told telepathically
In my life as a dog
I’d been a bad dog,
Bit too many people,
Killed too many cats.
Had to pay ofF my
Karmic debt with that
Lousy human life

I lost my temper,
Called God a dick,
Pissed him off.
For that sacrilege,
That unholy disrespect.
He sent me back to life
As a hissing cockroach.

Bob Boyd

Homeless And Hurting

Drunk, begging for money
Unwashed and stinking
How did I get reduced to this?
In abandoned youth
Drank to joyful excesses
Knowing alcoholism
Never a problem,
Just a fashionable pastime
Among my twenties peers,
Just an obligatory
Passage of youth.
Now a fifties failure
Lost jobs, broken marriages
Homeless and hurting.

Bob Boyd

Message to Ruth

I kind of wish we could have worked out
despite me leaving you.

And I hope since you are no longer on
this earth you’re in a place like heaven.

And that maybe somehow through the
ethers you can read this message.

I truly believe that is possible. I believe
the deceased sometimes can feel

when someone is writing something
to or about them.

And I have what I feel are concrete
reasons for believing that.

I wish I hadn’t been an introvert and
you an extrovert that became more

interested in being out with your
friends than maintaining our love.

And though I had to leave you,
unable to cope with the loneliness,

and because you were never going
to change,

I felt bad for you when you called me
once in a while throughout the years

hoping that maybe we could get back
together again for another try.

I wasn’t being mean or spiteful when
I could never go back to loving you.

When my heart is broken by someone,
I just cannot take the risk of that

person breaking it again no matter how
contrite she seems or says she’s changed.

I just can’t do it.

But I was sad to hear of when you
died in your fifties decades ago,

and I hope you went to a better place
where death was a doorway to a

glorious life for you, and maybe we’ll
meet again when I go through that doorway too.

Bob

Women Fated to be Unappealing to Men

Some women are born without the pretty faces
or the alluring bodies that attract men.

They’re never asked to dance at high school
dances, and they might be called nasty names

by mean high school boys who find them
unattractive.

And these women may never find love
their entire lives

and go to the grave never having married
or been loved by a man.

Why does life have to be like this? Why do
some women have all the advantages and
some none when it comes to looks and love?

If reincarnation exists, maybe women who
are beautiful in one life are unattractive in
their next lives to sort of balance their
karma out for greater spiritual growth.

Or maybe it’s an unfair luck of the draw
whether a woman is born attractive or not.

Fortunately, some women who are unappealing
to men on the outside are beautifully alluring
on the inside and find love.

But, alas, I cannot imagine how sad it must be
for a woman to realize she wasn’t born pretty like
other women and may never experience romantic
love.

And I find the unfairness of that so goddamn tragic.

Bob Boyd

Interdimensional Apex Predators and 411s

Imagine if like larger animals preying on
smaller animals in nature, there were
unstoppable interdimensional apex
predators preying on the humans that
vanish mysteriously in national parks
leaving no clues behind.

Imagine if in a millisecond, they could
appear in this dimension and invisibly
snatch a human out of it before the
human could scream or shout and
drag the human into another dimension.

Imagine if they invisibly roamed national
parks seeking human prey like big animals
roam forests seeking small animal prey.

Unfortunately, I think that might be plausible
considering how these humans vanish with
no footprints that trackers can follow
and no scents that search dogs can track.

The other plausibility is that aliens moving
silently in and out of dimensions are
abducting these missing 411s.

Whatever the case it’s mysterious and
frightening, and the numbers of missing
411s are staggering.

Bob Boyd

1600s Nefarious Superstar Witch Hunter

Matthew Hopkins 1600s Witch Hunter
Proclaimed Witch Hunter General
Superstar status sending scores of
Innocent men and women to the gallows
Using forbidden torture and heinous trickery
Turned witch hunting into lucrative enterprise
Incentivized to find and hang more innocents
The elderly often easy marks and easy money
People in towns and villages didn’t mind the killings
Social cleansing of those they didn’t like or need
Eventually the costs became Hopkins undoing
Taxes raised too high to pay for his infamy
Demand for his costly skills evaporated
1647 the Witch Hunter General died
Probably of a disease like tuberculosis
Never taken to task for the deaths
Of 100 innocent people. More’s the pity.

Bob Boyd

Be Still My Beating Heart

Be still my beating heart,
she’s reading my poems again.

I can’t believe this princess among
women has graced me with her
presence once again.

Surely I’ve been favored by angels
in heaven and even by God above
that this loveliest of all women is
reading the words I crafted for her.

Of course, I’m just imagining this
and you may have believed it was real,
but I’m an imaginative man with many
imaginative scenarios running endlessly
through my expansive mind.

And I kinda liked the idea of a guy being
able to feel the presence of a most special
woman reading his poems on his blog,
like a supernatural romantic thing.

Bob Boyd

Dogs Are Often Better Than Romantic Partners

Why dogs are often better
than romantic partners?

Let me show you the ways:

There’s no deceit in a dog.

Dogs won’t leave you or
break your heart.

A dog’s love for you will
never wane, a romantic
partner’s love will. They
may still love you, but
it’s not the same as when
they first fell in love with
you.

If for some reason you
and the dog’s relationship
doesn’t work out, the dog
won’t take you to court
and demand alimony.

Whether you are away
from a dog for minutes or
days, you will get the
same amount of excitement
when the dog sees you.

No way will you get that
consistency from a romantic
partner.

A dog will never say an
unkind word or, worse, swear
at you.

A dog will never bad
mouth you to neighbors or
coworkers, as some romantic
partners do.

Last, no matter how great
your relationship with your
romantic partner is, it will
never compare to the
unconditional love of a dog.

Bob Boyd

Cancer Was Transformative for Me

I never worried about getting cancer.
I was convinced I’d never get it.
No cancer in my family,
didn’t smoke, drink or do drugs,
rarely ate red meat, worked out
and walked daily for decades.

So when I was diagnosed with the
killer C, it was a surprise to me.

But, what was more surprising to me,
is when I got the dreadful news,
I was immediately resigned to it.

I didn’t become stressed out. It
was like this: often the fear of
something is worse than when
that something happens.

And even more surprisingly, I just
didn’t care, as if I’d somehow been
given a Zen attitude about it.

In some ways I actually enjoyed it.

Because I like gaining new knowledge,
I enjoyed seeing how all the tests and
procedures worked.

I enjoyed the various tests and even
the cancer infusions I took weekly.

Prior to the cancer, I hated hospitals,
and feared seeing doctors.

After the cancer, I loved hospitals
for the lives hospital workers save,
the people they heal, and those
they help get well or enable to live
with chronic illnesses.

And I lost my fear of seeing doctors
and came to appreciate them as well.

I really appreciated the nurses
in the cancer infusion room.

I had fun kidding with them and
they with me. I even wrote a poem
about them:

Earth Angels
By Bob Boyd

Dedicated earth angels helping the sick
Despite hard hours remaining angelic
Compassionately saving lives from dying
Never giving up on you, always trying
To heal your body with saintlike tenderness
Using precision, care, and benevolence
As surely as there is a number seven
There’s a special place for nurses in heaven.

And unanticipated by me, that first poem
I wrote led to me writing over 2,000 poems
to date.

And I plan to write thousands more,
despite not having had an interest in writing
poetry, and not having read much poetry
before the cancer.

Best of all, I gained enormous personal and spiritual
growth from the cancer, and I’m grateful I had it
and that I survived it.

Bob Boyd

I’m Liking the Mad Hatter Red-Haired Woman

You say the mad hatter title says she’s most likely
bat crap crazy.

I say one man’s crazy is another man’s endearing
eccentricity.

I say the heart sign she makes with her fingers in the photo suggests a lot of love and loads of compassion.

Furthermore, the mad hatter in her says to me she’s enchanting, whimsical, fascinating, and tons of fun.

I think I’m in love.

Bob Boyd

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