Poems by Bob Boyd

She married a rich man
loved the money at first
got bored without love
left him for a true love

Bob Boyd

There’s a werewolf after me
I always hear him howling
I hope like in the movies
a silver bullet will kill him

Bob Boyd

The summer sun is here
heating up my part of the world
heat seeping into my apartment
the whir of my fans spinning

Bob Boyd

She destroyed the hopes of my heart
like a bomb detonating inside of me
her weapon of mass destruction
a devastating heart-seeking no

Bob Boyd

People said the turbulent Mr and Mrs Denton
fought nearly every night like cats and dogs
It was no surprise when in the summer of 1977
the wife scratched her husband’s eyes out

Bob Boyd

At age 27 he saw the White Light
bright like the blazing noonday sun
it blew his mind with expanded consciousness
and he was irrevocably changed forever

Bob Boyd

He hears werewolves howling
outside his cabin in the woods
but he’s not worried about them
just his sons on a full moon night

Bob Boyd

A relationship with the wrong person
like a curse upon your life
that can be hard to extract yourself from
hopefully before it’s not too late

Bob Boyd

The guppies in my aquarium
swim blissfully all day long
perhaps when they swim
they experience a fish nirvana

Bob Boyd

My name is sparrow
although I seem happy and free
many predators are after me
odds are I won’t live a full life

Bob Boyd

She was a beautiful young woman,
maybe a college student.
When asked if it was okay to
punch someone in the face
with a different political view,
she said yes, it was okay.
I thought to myself, beneath
that beautiful face lurks some
detestable evil that needs to be
psychologically evaluated, and
she became evil and ugly to me.

Bob Boyd

In 1718 London Bridge is Falling Down
was written, even though the bridge was not.
In 2026 all of London is falling down
overrun with migrants and crime,
knife stabbings in particular.
Citizens are being jailed for tweets,
and London is no longer London.
And instead of the bridge,
London and Great Britain are falling.
And instead of God save the king,
God save the patriots and London
and all of Great Britain.

Bob Boyd

Peacocks are such beautiful birds
strutting about, their train of
feathers majestically magnificent.
But not to leopards and tigers,
they see peacocks as only food.
What a waste of nature’s beautiful
bird artistry,
reduced to merely meals
for unappreciative predators.

Bob Boyd

But, thank God, it went bust.
She had an unexpected
reversal of mind about
us getting together,
and I didn’t try to
change her mind back.
No means no, and once a
woman changes her mind
we are through, no rewind.
But to get back on topic,
the Sweden back then
when I almost moved to it
was not the crime ridden,
migrant flooded, tulmultous
Sweden of today, and, thanks
to that Swedish woman, I’m
better off in the USA today.

Bob Boyd

Sometimes I wonder if there are any old hippy women
now,
at least still in spirit if no longer in dress and in
practice.
I’d like to meet an old hippy woman for a platonic
friendship with.
I’m at an advanced age where a romantic relationship
is no longer vital to me.
And at my age men have low T which factors into
not lusting for the physical part of romantic love.
I’d like to talk to that old hippy woman about the good
old sixties days, gurus, seeking truth, etc.
But I’m at an advanced age where I’m not motivated
enough to look for one.

Bob Boyd

Is the primary purpose of this existence to
produce offspring and die?
Despite all the religions and beliefs is it all
for nothing except procreation and death,
like one would think the life of an insect,
a fish, or an animal woud be?
I like to think that there is more, like
an ultimate eternal bliss consciousness.
But maybe as some scientists believe,
we just live and die and nothing more.

Bob Boyd

Though our marriage didn’t
work out decades ago –
you, the rarely at home
outward extrovert –
me, more the homebody
inward introvert,
sometimes I wonder.

And though you died years
after our marriage ended
and I walked out on you,
sometimes I wonder.

Sometimes I wonder if we
met in the afterlife would
we be able to make it work
there, like soulmates finally
in a fairy tale forever paradise.

And wherever you are in the
life after this one, I hope these
heartfeft words reach you.

Bob Boyd

Shopping above his pay grade in an upscale
grocery store, that catered to the rich,
a fancy woman, sporting diamond rings,
wearing designer clothes, came on to him.
Her beauty was compelling, her perfume
seductive, her voice enchanting.
But he passed her by with just a few
pleasantries, so not to reject her impolitely.
He could not afford her, and he didn’t want her
to afford him, like a kept lesser pauper man.
And he knew she had assumed that because
he was in that upscale grocery store,
he was upscale monied too and suitable,
instead of the monetarily unsuitable
peasant she’d find him to be.

Bob Boyd

She was a beautiful, talented,
accomplished actress in the 30s.
Now barely anybody knows
anything about her legacy.
Her fame, her fortune gone.
Her beauty, her talent, all
ended by Time.

Time the ender of fame, fortune,
greatness and legends.
Time the ender of so many beautiful
and talented women of yesteryear,
and some of today.

Time the Ender of Everything
has no appreciation for beauty,
fame, fortune or even fairness,
like the unfairness of little
children whose days are running
out in children’s hospitals all
over this time weary world.

Bib Boyd

As a young man, he had perfect health
and near physical perfection from
working out and eating right.
But when he grew older, past 70 years,
unexpectedly he developed health problems
despite his decades of excellent health.
Now he keeps having to take more pills
to just keep living a less enjoyable life,
and he wonders if it’s worth it.
He thinks maybe one day he’ll stop taking
all those pills and end his miserable life.

Bob Boyd