Poems by Bob Boyd

As a kid, he fished all the time
and loved to catch fish.

But he didn’t fish out of necessity
for food. He fished merely for sport.

And instead of throwing the fish back
in the water, he just let them die.

Then when he was in his late teens
he had a dream where the hundreds

of fish he had caught and killed
appeared before him one by one.

He felt the searing pain and the agony
he had caused those fish.

The pain and agony were so real,
he felt like he was going to die too.

He woke up uncertain if he were
dead or living

and felt something like lifesaving
relief when he realized it was just a dream.

And he never fished again after that dream,
which to this day he feels was more than a dream.

Bob Boyd

I see this over and over. Couples fall in love,
but as time and new love passions pass,
the love often becomes bitter sweet. And
eventually the love is gone and the
couples part.

I’ve experienced this myself a number of
times. It’s as if after the euphoria of new
love passes, the hidden parts of the
loved one emerge.

Sometimes seemingly from dark corners
of their souls, like the woman who a year
after love had bloomed stole from me, and
I saw the dark, hidden parts in her, and she
had destroyed my love for her forever.

But that was only one of the countless often
bitter relationship refrains playing out every
day all over the world.

How I wish it wasn’t so.

Bob Boyd

He spies a lone butterfly
with splendid colors,
blues, oranges and purples.

He see it land on some violet
hibiscus flowers, and its wings
flutter as if delighted with its
find.

But then from under the flowers
two claws snatch the butterfly
into the chewing mandibles of
a praying mantis.

He’s shocked by the horror of it,
a beautiful, harmless insect
snatched out of this world.

And he wonders why the hell
does the world have to be
filled with so much carnage.

A world where beautiful
butterflies and beautiful people
are brutally taken out of it
every second, every minute,
every hour of every day.

Bob Boyd

He hears crows cawing outside his apartment.
He wonders what all that noise is about.
Do they just like to make a racket, or are they
discussing things like crow politics or the weather?
He being a little nuts gets an idea. He tapes the
caws of the crows and for weeks practices the
caws until he feels proficient in crow cawing.

The next time the crows appear in the trees
outside his apartment and begin their caws,
he steps out of his apartment and begins
cawing back at them. But he doesn’t get the
results he thought he would. The crows caw
louder and begin attacking him. He runs into
his apartment and the crows beat their wings
against his apartment windows for at least ten
minutes and, finally, fly away cawing madly.

He calls his veterinarian girlfriend and tells her
what happened. She says to him, “You have to
be careful with crow speak. If you caw wrong,
it sounds like you are swearing at the crows.
Thereafter he never tried to caw at the crows,
or even step out of his apartment when he
heard them cawing in the trees.

Bob Boyd

Bree was an all A’s student in high school,
participated in many extracurricular activities.

Got a scholarship from an ivy league college,
became brainwashed there against the US.

She joined radical groups, attended many
protests

became more and more radicalized and
got involved in a bombing plot.

And helped make a homemade bomb
to blow up a government building with.

On the way to the building in her car
with two others the bomb went off

accidentally and killed Bree and her
two accomplices.

Now all of her potential, all of what she
could have been

is buried in Glenview cemetery, and the former
all A’s high school student is gone forever.

Bob Boyd

To accelerate his spiritual evolution and
try to get off the wheel of rebirths sooner

he signed up for a month of constant
meditation at Enlightenment Monastery.

The first week he got blitzed 24/7, felt he
was getting close to becoming enlightened.

The second week the peace and the blitz
gave way to feeling jittery and nervous.

By week three the meditations started
getting too intense.

He felt like he was on the edge of a
nervous breakdown.

But he kept meditating, thinking he could
meditate his way through it.

Somewhere in the fourth week, he began
screaming and shaking freakishly,

as if a man possessed and out of his
mortal mind, and he began smashing

windows in the monastery until some of
the monks restrained him.

They called emergency services and
an ambulance drove off with him screaming.

In the ER they got him sedated and calmed
down enough for him to be taken home.

Approximately a week later, he hung himself
to death on a tree outside his apartment.

Maybe he reached enlightenment prematurely
and when he died it leveled out, and now

he’s one with the cosmos and living in
eternal bliss consciousness.

Bob Boyd

His life has become so boring in his ninetieth years
that a medical crisis brings some excitement into his life.
A stay in the hospital like socialization with all the attention
from doctors and nurses and all the conversations.
Unlike his solitary, friendless life at his lonely home where
he’s barely living and just waiting to die with nobody to
talk to and nobody who cares if he lives or if he dies.

Bob Boyd

If reincarnation is real, I’d rather not come
back.

In truth, I’d prefer to stay dead in the ground
then do a rewind.

I could be reborn on the cusp of a nuclear
holocaust, which I think is inevitable.

So who’s ever in charge of reincarnation,
God or gods, if it’s real let me stay dead

instead of coming back into this world of
uncertainties, evil and suffering for many.

This life has been enough; another one
has no appeal for me.

I’d rather be dead in the ground free
from uncertainties, evil, and suffering.

Bob Boyd

I can’t see having a TV,
exorbitant costs for cable,
most of it unwatchable for me,
too many infomercials in the
over the top high costs.
Everything I need is on the net,
don’t need expensive TV. Better
options on the net, many of
them are free, unlike TV.

Bob Boyd

Why all the confusion with the various and
differing religions, often the proponents of
each thinking they are right.

Hey God, why couldn’t you have given these
misinformed mortals some guidance in their
dogmatic pursuits of You?

And for Your Sake, why didn’t you intervene
when they shed so much blood in your holy
name, staining it with shame?

Perhaps you are above or oblivious to the fray
that takes place every day with proponents of
many religions claiming to be the only way.

Bob Boyd

With an AI Image Generator, I have created
women with the post-impressionist genre.
I created real women with the AI Image Generator too,
but they didn’t look as good as the post-impressionist ones.
The real women, no matter how beautiful, looked bland
and unappealing compared to the post-impressionist ones.
And if I could be with a woman eternally in the afterlife,
I would want a real life post-impressionist one.
I’m putting that out in the universe, like a rocket in space,
hoping the Absolute hears me and answers my prayer.

Bob Boyd

I had a second cousin who killed two people,
one a young salesman in a retail store robbery,
the other a prison guard during an escape.
Somehow he evaded capture for many years.
And he wrote beautiful poetry during those years,
was even a celebrated poet in a city poetry group.
I only knew him a little, and he was nice to me,
so I was shocked to learn he had murder in him.
And I cannot understand how he had the soul of a poet
and the mind of a killer, the two seemed incompatible.
I often think of poets as gentler people incapable
of being soulless, psycho killers, but I was wrong
about my second cousin, who death freed from prison,
but might be somewhere worse now, like a burning hell.

Bob Boyd

The city was overrun with vampires,
Friends and neighbors were bitten
and turned into the night creatures.
Soon an army of vampires besieged
the city and nowhere was safe.
Professor Montablanc feverishly
worked to find a way to save the city.
In his underground, vampire-proofed
laboratory he invented the solution.
He called it the Vampire Vaporizer,
a ray gun that harnessed solar power.
A single blast vaporized vampires like
the white hot noonday sun.
The professor gave Vampire Vaporizers
to the citizens unbitten by the vampires.
Within a night, they blasted all the
vampires out of existence.
The next day the city was freed of the
diabolic, vampiric infestation.
And not a single vampire ever entered
the city again.

Bob Boyd

I’m listening to a song called Bad to the Bone.
The singer says that when he was a baby,
the head nurse knew he was bad to the bone.
I’m thinking to myself you can’t get badder
than that, and the guy must have been
genetically damned and headed for the
highway to hell. Of course, it’s just a song,
but imagine if someone came into this world
with that degree of badness in him that even
as an infant it was insanely evident, as if he
had palpable bad vibes right out of the womb.
Were you like that? I didn’t think so.

Bob Boyd

I see the neighborhood squirrel
and he sees me.

I think he knows me by sight,
but he runs away from me.

Perhaps he’s studied my kind
and knows many of us

cannot be trusted and will stab
another in the back to get ahead

or out of petty meanness will do
the same unexpectedly.

I’d say that makes the squirrel
better than many of us, and if I

got to know him, I’d probably find
him more noble than most of us.

Bob Boyd

She was beautiful and moved to a big city
to be a model.

She met a wealthy man who was charming
and treated her like a princess.

She felt she’d found her prince and
was madly in love with him.

But six months later it all went to
pieces.

He became insanely jealous and
obsessively controlling.

She packed her things and moved
to an apartment safe from him

until he found out where she lived and
broke into her apartment.

He punched her in her face and head
for over an hour

until her face and head were smashed in,
and she was close to dying.

He picked her up, carried her outside
her apartment and dumped her body

next to a dumpster still unconscious
and barely alive.

Kind strangers found her and called
emergency services.

At the hospital hours of surgery and
removing part of her head

saved her life, but her mind was shot
and she had amnesia,

couldn’t speak and had no identification
on her.

Eventually the police found out
who she was

and that her ex boyfriend tried
to kill her.

When he was finally arrested after
his money and lawyers delayed the arrest,

he got sentenced to eight years in prison
for attempted murder. He freaked out

and collapsed on the courtroom floor dead
from a massive heart attack.

A monster removed from this world, and
may he get his due in a hellish afterlife.

Bob Boyd

when it comes to liking and using art
to create painting genres with an AI
Image Generator.

Cubism, Orphism, Post-Impressionism,
Expressionism, and Fauvism, some of
my favorites.

After studying art in YouTube videos,
for a few exciting weeks, it’s like my
mind is raging with a love of art

and learning about it and using
it to create many fascinating works,
courtesy of my imagination and AI’s
phenomenal artistry.

And I don’t care if some people say
AI art sucks. It works perfectly for me.

Besides I’m not trying to sell it, exhibit
it, or use it other than for my blog headers.

Bob Boyd

I saw a young woman on Youtube,
complaining that men today didn’t
try hard enough after a woman
rejected their advancements. She
said her father asked her mother
out many times before she accepted.

My response to her would have been
what you describe is like a stalker.
And no should mean no without a man
trying to force a woman to go out with
him by pestering her over and over.

And most women would complain if
a man today kept pestering them and
probably would feel the need to call
the police to get rid of the stalker.

Bob Boyd

Because she nabbed herself a rich husband,
people called her a gold digger.

Sure, they were right, she did go after money
instead of looking for true love.

But I didn’t throw stones. I could understand
her desires to have comforts in life.

She came out of extreme poverty, suffered
insults as a kid because she wore cheap clothes.

Vowed to improve her station in life and was
blessed with the beauty to do it.

She reinvented herself, became like a high
society lady, and achieved her ambitions.

So, maybe I don’t like her path, but I
understand why she took it.

I just hope she didn’t get herself into
a miserable, loveless marriage.

I hope she lucked out and found
true love along with the money.

Bob Boyd

Approximately one-million children sex trafficked
yearly, no loving God comes to save them.

Every day approximately 137 women and girls
are murdered, no long God comes to save them.

In the USA alone there are 25-50 serial killers
torturing and murdering women.

If there’s a loving God, why would that God allow
these horrors to happen to innocent young women?

Babies born with cancer. Children dying of terrible
diseases, some with debilitating disabilities for life.

Why all this suffering for innocents. And why
so much unbridled evil in this world?

I’m not a God, and I’m not always loving, but if
I had God-like power, I’d save all those who

are victimized by vicious monsters and horrible
diseases.

So, my question is why doesn’t a loving God
do the same.

Or is there no loving God, just an impersonal
God that does not intervene in human affairs?

Bob Boyd