Poems by Bob Boyd

They paraded themselves
as holy men.

They performed masses
and preached homilies

To all their devout parishioners
who imbibed their teachings

as if they were from the Lord’s
very own words.

But they made it all seem
like a deceptive front

when they broke with holiness
and molested children.

Bob Boyd

The poet wrote a man danced like a swan.
I never saw a swan dance and
I don’t believe they do.

At least not in a way comparable to humans
or with any kind of choreographic grace.

But my different opinion aside,
which admittedly could be wrong,
I like the way a man dancing like
a swan sounds.

And I like the inherent beauty
and grace in a swan’s regal nature.

Bob Boyd

Some politicians are so full of crap
and so corrupt that they don’t
give a damn about the people,
those who don’t vote for them
and those who do.

They’re in no way patriotic.
They’re just opportunists
looking for a way to make a buck
at the taxpayers expense.

They try to make patriotic politicians
look like the villains they themselves are,
as if their vilification is a projection
of their own opportunistic devilry.

They lead the media by the nose
with their self serving propaganda
designed to disparage the other party
and make themselves look pristine.

It’s all a political grift to enrich them
and try to keep the people ignorant
of their dark deeds and deceptions.

But finally they are exposed
for what they really are,
for how they don’t care about us.

Bob Boyd

He so tired of women
only after his money,
that he lost all respect
for women in general.

He mistakenly stereotyped
even women who
were not gold diggers,

but he was too disappointed
in the avaricious ones
whose love was commercial
to see through his untrue bias.

But after some reflection
he saw how he let his
bad experiences with
fake women and false loves
skewer his opinion
about all women and
that some had to be good.

So he came up with a plan
to find a woman who
would love him for him.

Like he’d seen in a old movie
he pretended to be poor
with inexpensive clothes
and an old beat up car.

Eventually after many rejections,
he met a sweet, saintly woman
who loved him more and truer
than all his discarded gold diggers.

Bob Boyd

His poetry was sometimes too gritty.
Some women said he was a sexist,
called women whores and used them,
but he made up for it in moments of
compassion and caring for women
and a cat with a broken back.

Perhaps he was like most of us
with positives and negatives in
our personal makeup, in our
hidden imperfect selves,
except he was more forthright
and reckless by acting on them.

Bob Boyd

He’d been a shill for a biased news station
for many years.

He didn’t agree with the fake news he
spewed daily on TV,
but the pay was too good to
follow his conscience.

Then he woke up one morning
and felt like he’d sold
his soul to the devil.

His conscience erupted.
He realized he’d been
as fake as the news
he reported
for over 20 years.

He got dressed,
went to work, took
the elevator to the top
of the skyscraper
that his news station
was located in.

And like a bomb dropped
from a plane,
he jumped off
the building and
all that was left of him
were his splattered remains
on the cold city street below.

Bob Boyd

The Miraculous Feat of a Stink Bug

I don’t think a stink bug has ever walked on water,
but he’s come damn near close by walking up walls.
He walks up a wall with ease, as if he has adhesive feet.
Astonished, I marvel at his miraculous performance.
I wonder if he could also change water into wine,
though to be honest, I’d prefer the watery miracle
to be water changed into dark roasted instant coffee.
I wonder if that stink bug that really doesn’t stink
could raise me from the dead when I expire.
I guess I’ll just have to just wait and see.

Bob Boyd

She always had to be
in the center of the spotlight.

Her instagram page was
full of photos of herself,
her Facebook page too.

Some unkindly referred
to women like her as
attention whores.

She was otherwise nice,
but I never understood
her obsessive need
to always display herself
all over social media..

And I wonder what will
happen to her when
time erases her beauty
and attention to her
ubiquitous photos will wane.

Bob Boyd

The lady across the way
from my second story apartment
still has her Harris for President
sign up,

as if she is holding on to what
for her is a presidential paradise lost,

as if she delusionally is holding
out hope that like Jesus
coming back from the dead

Kamala will rise again from
the ruins of a dead and
poorly run campaign.

Bob Boyd

she loved the high and monied life
she caught the biggest rich fish
and lived high on their wealth
like a bloodsucking parasite

in moments of sober reflection
she felt the emptiness in her life
but eased it by going shopping
and spending thousands on
designer dresses and purses

and seeing her purpose as
a service with her extravagant
shopping helping many people
staying profitably employed

bob boyd