Poems by Bob Boyd

Sometimes when
nights are stilled
and birds are hushed

I remember a woman
a caring social worker
who came with love
into my life

and left me when she
had a host of health
problems because
like a martyr she
didn’t want to burden
me with her sicknesses

in spite of our love
and my wanting to
stay with her and care
for her forever

and were I not so
battle hardened
in life and in love
when I remember her
and our lost love

I could cry as many
tears as there are
stars in the night skies

Bob Boyd

When I go to my death
no one will weep for me
which is the way I always
wanted it

When I go to my death
it will be the celebration
of my ashes
the end of earthly concerns
for my scattered remains

And by all things held sacred
I swear I will wholeheartedly
welcome what I believe will be
my ultimate awakening

Bob Boyd

I have seen too many true crime shows
where one spouse murders the other
sometimes surprisingly and shockingly
to me the murderer is the wife or someone
she hires or talks into killing her spouse

I write surprisingly because despite the
many cases to the contrary usually
I don’t think of the more nurturing and
fairer sex as capable of murder
or murderous thoughts that are more
likely and more common with men
and to me the fewer murders by wives
attest to my take on that

often when the killings are done by the
husbands they play the pathic part
of a bereaved, grief-stricken husband
instead of manning up and confessing

these cases I hate the most and
sometimes they make me feel angered
I cannot fathom how these husbands
can physically harm or diabolically
kill their wives they loved and married

the worst is when they cry on tv and
ask for the support of the public in
finding their wives’ murderers
and sob in front of the police during
lengthy interrogations

I find it gratifying when these monsters
finally get found out and sent to prison
hopefully for the rest of their lives

and to me if things in a marriage get
so bad that one spouse feels like
killing the other it’s time to say
goodbye and not do something crazy
that will end in shame and incarceration
and a stain forever on one’s soul

Bob Boyd

social media
sometimes a blessing
sometimes a curse
vast network
for socialization
can meet people from
all over the world
mostly good people
sometimes evil
unlimited knowledge
can learn practically
anything online
can expand your
mind and your world

sometimes a curse
bullied children suicides
catfishing and scams
pedophiles
sexual predators
scammers
twisted people
roaming social
media sites
and on dating apps

unwary people
scammed for thousands
some women looking
for love raped
after meeting
strangers on dating apps
on rare occasions
murdered

it seems everything
on earth is
or becomes
a combination of
good and evil

but one of the worst
cases of evil was
when evil trolls
kept emailing
a bereaved family
photos of their
daughter’s murdered
body who was
murdered by a
psycho she met
met online
who plastered
photos of her
dead body all
over the Internet

morbid photos
said to
have been
sent by a
community of
disturbed and
women hating
men called incels

Bob Boyd

The day I met you the sun rose in my life
Everything became more beautiful.
Everything became more bright.

The sky became bluer.
The world became newer.
The songs of the birds became sweeter.

And my life felt wondrous and complete
Being with beatiful loveliest of all you.

And when the love in our hearts blossomed,
And radiated up to the heavens,
The angels sighed with delight.
And I believe our love was predestined
And will be everlasting.

And if by chance I leave this world before you,
I’ll still be loving you from the afterlife
Sending my undying love to you.

And I know when we both leave this earth
we’ll be together in the afterlife
in love forever and ever.

Bob Boyd

I’m listening to the man singing about Oz never giving anything to the Tim Man that he didn’t already have,
and I’m transported back to a time I liked better than
the aging out time I’m in now.

And I’m reminded of all the good times that are past
and gone forever except when I relive them in my memory.

And I find myself hoping the afterlife is a place where
good times never pass, where happiness always lasts,
where true love is always true, and where I’ll be spending an eternity with you even though we haven’t met yet.

Bob Boyd

Lucy was as fair a woman as a woman can be.
She passed from this life at only twenty three.
On the day of her marriage to Charles Porter,
She tripped on her wedding gown on a stairs.
She died when her head hit the bottom step.
Now she wanders day and night in her wedding gown,
As if still trying to get to her wedding that never happened.
I’ve tried to communicate with Lucy about going to the Light,
But she never seems to acknowledge my presence.
Perhaps Lucy is only like a film replaying day and night.

Bob Boyd

In case you are unfamiliar with this kind of apparition, Lucy is not in the scene described in the poem. To quote an expert in these matters. She is “residual energy, like a playback of the past, an echo of a past event.” Lucy has gone somewhere else in the afterlife, hopefully to a paradise.

Supposedly sometimes when a person dies from a horrible event or an accident, the scene of that death keeps playing back over and over. It’s like watching an actor in an old movie who isn’t there physically.

Another telling characteristic is Lucy doesn’t interact, just like an actor in a movie wouldn’t interact with you.

And as far as me trying to get Lucy to the Light, that’s pure fiction. Most of my poems are fictional, even first person ones, with some exceptions like a poem I wrote today: Boundaries of Love with a 25 Year Old Adorable Woman.

Another evil entity in Greensboro Park
In the scary, forbidden and evil dark.
Be there no end to this devilry?
Unknown to lovelorn me, Baba Roba,
Supposedly only a Slavic myth,
Was terrifyingly bona fide, and she had
Shapeshifted into a beautiful woman
And blew me the most tantalizing kiss.
Thought finally under a fortuitous moon
I’d met my life’s love, thanked the God above.
But, alas, when I gave her a mere kiss,
She shapeshifted back into a scary old witch
And cursed me into a croaking toad.
Said she’d remove the curse If I gave
Her half my bank account. I croaked an okay.
She removed the curse temporarily, so I
Could get to my bank, Summit Credit Union.
Upon my return, doused that Baba Roba
With a concoction of holy water and hawthorn,
And she screamed like a banshee and died.
Maybe. Hopefully. Crossing my fingers.

Bob Boyd

She was 26.
I was 75.
Old enough
to be her grandfather.
She was petite,
charmingly adorable
incredibly funny
and she had
the sweetest voice
I’d ever heard.

At work
she flirted with
me so tortuously
much that it took
all my will power
and more to not
get enamored with her.

Sometimes my
mind was assailed
with constant thoughts
of her like a person
gets on the brink
of falling in love.

But I couldn’t go there.
I had to put a boundary
on what would have
been a senseless
impossible love
that never would have
lasted.

Once she begged me
to attend a work event
with her, but sadly,
regrettably, I had
to say no. And it
hurt my heart so
much to have had
to reject her
and that I might have
hurt her feelings.

I really wanted to go
there with her,
to be with her.
But I knew that
spending an evening
sitting next to her
would have rendered me
unable to resist her
and I would have made
the foolish mistake
of starting
something that
just could not be.

I’ve never believed in
putting boundaries on
love, but I had to be
realistic and fair to her.

And though it
pained my heart
and could have been
foolishly seen
as old man’s
gift from God,
falling in love or
even going
out with her
was a boundary I
could never cross.

But oh how incredibly
adorable she was
and oh how I miss the
sound of her voice
the sweetest I’d
ever heard.

Bob Boyd

She calls herself Atmosphere, and her YouTube ASMR Videos
are like something created in an alternative world far richer than this one.
She must have a background in theatre productions, acting, and the like
to create such surreal, unreal, mystical, amazing, peerless ASMR videos
such as ASMR Morning Rituals for Your Highness in an Ancient Realm or Preparing For a Treasure hunt – Medieval Fantasy RPG.

She takes you into undreamed worlds and plunges your inner world into states or relaxation that are almost unexpectedly transcendent.
In a myriad of indescribable ways she navigates you on fantastical trips
through the many magical places she creates with her incredible imagination.
She is just as magical and mysterious as her ASMR videos, and I often wonder who she really is and how she has this phenomenal talent.

Hail to Atmosphere! Queen of ASMR Artists!

Bob Boyd