Poems by Bob Boyd

I’m hoping reincarnation isn’t real.
Imagine coming back to life during
A nuclear holocaust.

But I like that reincarnation gives
All lifeforms a chance of liberation,
A chance for an eventual heaven-like
Existence beyond annihilation.

Even a singled-celled amoeba can one
Day evolve to human life and onward
To a cosmic consciousness liberation.

Even your dog or your cat or any of your
Pets would eventually evolve into an
Eternal bliss consciousness.

As for me, I’d rather not reincarnate.
I’d rather evolve to higher life in
The afterlife.

Bob Boyd

He swore off women for the umpteenth time.
He became a card carrying member of MGTOW,
Men Going Their Own Way Without Women.
He purposely avoided contact with them.
He tried to never even look at a woman
Until his pretty neighbor Mary Swanton
Called him Sweetie and touched his arm.
And in that seductive, magical moment
With the stars perfectly aligned,
The oath, the MGTOW, the avoidance
And all the intentions and denials
Vanished, and he found love again.

Bob Boyd

I never finished Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment
A bookworm beat me to it and probably got more out of it
Than I ever did.

I think he’s working on Chekhov now. I’ve read Chekhov
But I’ll bet that damn worm is getting more out of Chekhov
Than I did.

I don’t know why he prefers Russian authors. I guess he
Is a little highbrow and has good taste.

Bob Boyd

Birds flying overhead
In the light of the sun
A marvelous sight
Bats flying at night
Under the moonlight
An unsettling sight
Birds stay away
From humans
Some bats bite

Bob Boyd

The young moth was a daredevil
He loved flirting with death
To impress the other moths
Particularly the female ones
One night he daringly dive bombed
An old 1985 Buick on Highway 66
Intending to miss it by a moth’s hair
But lost his thrillseeker focus
When a female moth rustled her wings
Flirting with dashing handsome him
And he became moth splatter
On the old Buick’s windshield

Bob Boyd

He used to love hunting, bagging bears and deers
Every exciting hunting season.
Until he saw some of his kills in a nightmare.
Somehow they had guns and shot him in the chest.
He woke up in a cold sweat relieved it was just a dream
Until he suffered a massive heart attack,
Feeling like he had been shotgunned in the chest,
He barely survived the heart attack and never hunted again.

Bob Boyd

As a kid of ten years of age,
He liked working in his father’s little candy store,
Selling candy to adults and children,
Making people happy with delicious sweets.
As an adult of twenty years of age,
He made it big in the movies in Hollywood,
Acted in many starring roles on the silver screen,
Enjoyed entertaining people in the movies and on TV.
Eventually he tired of Hollywood and all the plastic people.
He realized he didn’t belong there and left the bright lights.
He returned to the little town he was born in
And opened his own little candy store.

Bob Boyd

Too late
She realized
She shouldn’t
Have been
Jogging alone
That scary
Half moon
Night

When he
Leaped out
Of the shadows
Grabbed her
Violated her
And killed her

Too late
For her
To ever
Live and
Breath and
Jog again

Bob Boyd

She dreamed she was a butterfly
Dancing in the air above a field of flowers
When she woke up it took a moment
To realize she was really a human
Then as if peering through a telescope
Back ions through time and space
She saw in her mind’s eye
That she had been
A beautiful butterfly
In a former life
And that explained to her why she
Was always so drawn to butterflies
And kept a butterfly farm
And she felt at one with the universe
And all creatures and things

Bob Boyd

She no longer loved him
But she stayed with him
His money was worth it
Despite her loveless
Unfulling marriage
That got old so fast
The money made it last
And last and last
Until he died at 93
And she was 73 and
Became reflective
And cried and cried
And cried over wasting
All those years for money
When in her youth and
With her beauty she
Could have had a shot
At true lasting love

Bob Boyd