Poems by Bob Boyd

I can understand how some guys
like gyms where women and
men work out.

Some guys probably like the sights,
the women who wear skin tight
gym outfits.

Some guys probably see the coed gyms
as a great place to meet a fit woman
with a similar interest.

I don’t need a gym to work out in;
I have always had my own equipment,
but if I did work out in a gym,

I’d want to work out in one that didn’t
have women in it and wouldn’t
want the distractions.

I wouldn’t be in the gym for the sights
or with the hope of finding a girlfriend;
I be there just to work out.

Bob Boyd

I saw a YouTube video where
single women

were complaining about men
no longer wanting them

for serious relationships.

Their pain was tangible,
but the way they went on

moaning and complaining

I found myself thinking that
I was grateful that I didn’t

have a woman in my life.

They reminded me of how
having a woman in my life

could be nice at first

but eventually a liability
when the excitement cooled down,

when the aggravations came out,

when the complaints surfaced.
And when the arguments began,

and I become disappointed and unhappy.

Bob Boyd

Looking at web hosts of late,
to my surprise, all of them use AI.
Most use AI for making websites with.
Some even us AI for their customer service,
I like AI for chats, info, and making images,
but I’d rather talk or chat with
a human for customer service.
And I’d rather work on websites by myself.

Bob Boyd

Somewhere in the universe there are planets
with two suns.

This makes me wonder if they have two moons
as well.

And, if so, would people who go crazy under
one full moon go crazier under two?

And would a moonbeast werewolf be twice as
powerful and ten times more scary

morphing from man to beast under two full moons
instead of only one?

Bob Boyd

She was taking eighteen pills
for a myriad of medical conditions.

One could wonder if living is worth
having to take eighteen pills to stay alive.

I think to myself I’d rather die than
take a mini pharmacy to remain living.

But probably I’d be just like her
and take those eighteen pills,

at the least, to lessen any suffering
before I died.

Bob Boyd

She looks in the mirror and still sees
a beautiful young woman,

even though she’s eight and eighty.

Old age has distorted her mind;
she’s unable to see the truth,

the wrinkled, old woman she’s become.

She thinks she’s still in her twenties,
young, carefree and beautiful,

like she was in her youth.

Maybe she’s better off than
if she knew the truth and saw

the dying, old woman in her mirror.

Bob Boyd

For years he had
a crush on her.
She’d seem interested
then push him away.
A year would pass,
he’d try again.
She’d seem interested
then push him away.
After about three years
of his yearly pursuits,
he realized his inane,
prolonged crush made
a fool out of him.
And when he saw her
a year after his folly
completely ceased,
he wondered what
he had seen in her
to squander his heart
on her for all
those wasted years.

Bob Boyd

When she was nice,
she was sweet.

But then she’d
go psycho,

and her demons
would come out.

She’d scream and
she’d shout,

swear and attack
him.

He hung in there
with her,

thought he could
change her.

But she changed
him

when she drove
a knife into

his chest one
night

and changed him
into a ghost.

Bob Boyd

Day runs into night
night runs into day
sun during the day
moon at night
light and darkness
time speeding up
faster and faster
people getting
older and older
graves opening
for their corpses
soon skeletons
eventually all dust.

Bob Boyd

She was always uncommonly nice
and often angelic.

Perhaps that’s why God took her to heaven
at age seven.

Bob Boyd