Poems by Bob Boyd

Hardworking men pulling rickshaws on dusty streets.
Rich Chinese being carried by 4 men on litters,
like small rooms with two long poles on the shoulders
of the men.
Mourners wearing all white in funeral processions.
Bodies left above ground for 40 days in graveyards before burial for proper mourning and preparation for the afterlife.
Camels walking in a line on the streets with bulky loads on their backs.
Street performers playing musical instruments.
Jugglers and contortionists exhibiting their talents.
Crowds of people watching.
Open air bazaars. Many people shopping.
Bird sellers selling birds.
Puppet shows and a sword fighter showing off his skills, two swords in the air, hands and swords as if flying.
A barber washing and cutting hair.
Street cobblers mending shoes.
People eating and washing clothes on sidewalks.
Street peddlers selling many goods.
Men with two sprinkler water buckets on their shoulders, sprinkling the streets to keep the dust down.
Legions of men walking by carrying heavy loads now carried by trucks.
Some pulling the heavy loads with ropes.
An ancient trolley car rolls by on rails.
Children working with adults hewing wood and logs.
Two men with two-man long saw sawing wooden planks.
Beautiful boats, cities and rivers.
How I would have liked to have seen it all in person in 1917.

Bob Boyd

There was a time when some people in some countries covered their mirrors at night for fear of a soul getting trapped in a mirror when the soul was wandering in a dream.

There was a time when some people in some countries covered their mirrors after someone died for fear the dead person’s soul could get trapped in a mirror.

I only know three things about mirrors:

If you break one, you might get seven years of bad luck.

If you truly are a vampire, you won’t see yourself in one.

If I look into a mirror, I always look much younger than I really am.

For the last thing, I know it’s an illusion because I look my true age in photos.

On a related note, and speaking of souls, I know, unlike with some primitive beliefs, when I’m photographed my soul won’t get trapped in a camera, fingers crossed. 🙂

Conspiracy theory or urban legend,
sightings of black-eyed children are
reported around the world.

Big black eyes, no whites, no irises,
they emanate a menacing feeling.

One, a little girl in a forest in Britain,
had an unnaturally bent neck and
a nonhuman, jerky running gait.

Sometimes they are alleged to
appear at your door asking to
come in.

Instinctively you feel if you let
them in, danger or death will follow.

No one knows what these black-eyed
children are really about.

No one knows if they are real or
just a conspiracy theory or an urban legend,

except those who might have
seen them.

Bob Boyd

Read an article on Daily Mail about married men spending thousands of dollars on women on OnlyFans.

One spent so much it sent his family into bankruptcy.

How insulting and heartbreaking for the wives.

I see it as the same as an infidelity.

And had I a girlfriend or a wife who spent
her time, let alone her money, on OnlyFans
looking at and talking to men,

she would not only lose my respect for her;

she would also lose her only real fan… me.

Bob Boyd

It has its perks:

No compromising.

No disappointing relationships
when the ecstasy of falling
in love has tapered off.

No walking on eggs.

No broken hearts.

No arguments and hurtful words.

No cheating or deceitful behavior.

Total peace of mind with no ripples in
your serenity.

Free and self determined to the max.

Worthwhile tradeoffs for a life without love
despite the occasional agonies,
and the longings.

That arise on the surface of your serenity
because of the inborn need
for a significant someone
to fill your life with affection and love.

Bob Boyd

Rich and tired of gold digging women.
Divorced one time too many.
Sick of the drama and the drain on his money,
the constant spending of frivolous things,
the alimony.

Sick of the superficial personalities, the plastic looks,
the high maintenance — he decided to
try someone new in a woman.

For 50,000 dollars he bought a robot wife
as real and interactive as the replicants in
the movie Blade Runner.

He didn’t have her programmed to be like a
mindless Stepford wife, a slave and not an equal.

He had her programmed to be a loving woman
and a perfect supportive intelligent companion
who would be there for him forever, who would
gently get him on course if ever he went off course
by treating her unfairly or badly.

As far as her not being a human woman, he
reasoned even human woman are not real either
when they leave you or when one of you die
and what was temporarily real has become
unreal.

He lived a happy life with his robot wife until he
died and she self-destructed.

Bob Boyd

Some ghosts are only imprints of events that
happened when they died.

No interactions.

No changes in their manifestations,
only like a movie scene
playing over and over and no more real
than the films.

They have passed on
from this earthly existence, but the
imprint remains.

Some ghosts make sounds, move objects,
speak, change room temperatures,
and touch you.

If this theory is true, it’s a mystery to me
why these disembodied beings remain
attached to the earth plane.

I have read they have unfinished business
and look after loved ones
like guardian ghosts.

The idea they don’t know how to get to the Light
and move on has been popularized
by Hollywood movies, as if they aren’t as smart
as other deceased people
or fear the Light for whatever reasons.

To the contrary, people who have had near death
experiences seem to pass from this earthly life
with ease.

But since they are not permanently
dead it’s hard to know if what they report is
completely accurate.

I see death being beyond ghosts and earthly
attachments.

I see death as the ultimate awakening
and when I go out,
I’ve no intention of remaining on
earth as a disembodied spirit.

And I welcome death
like a friend and not as a foe.

Bob Boyd

Beneath the skin of
The one we fondle today,
There is a skeleton,
Propping up the flesh.

Ikkyu

I find that poem disturbing
and far too realistic,

though it truly captures the
true nature of impermanence.

It disturbs me thinking that a
woman I was making love to
would one day be dead and
skeletal.

Bob Boyd

Originally called
Talking boards
Flat with letters
And numbers
Planchette for movable
Indicator
Hands on planchette
Questions asked
Strange or
Nonsense messages
Maybe true automatic writing
With spirits coming through
Supposedly from the dead
Stories of evil spirits
Coming through
Maybe untrue
But quite scary
Just the same
Some reports suggest
Possessions
Of more than
A few
True or untrue

Bob Boyd

Three beautiful Mongolian women, exotic,
mystical, dark eyes. Bodies swaying,
each playing a Mongolian instrument
called a Shnaz.

The women and their moves, mesmerizing.
The music they are playing a delight.
Were I a young man, I’d want to go
to Mongolia and meet a beautiful
Shnaz playing Mongolian woman tonight.

Bob Boyd