Poems by Bob Boyd

She always had rages.
Often she attacked him.
Once she tried to hit
him with a bat.
Another time she
chased him with a knife.
Unfortunately he had
children with her.
She kept them
from him when he
finally left her.
She slandered him
online to her radical friends.
Said she wanted him dead.
The police warned him
about a plot to kill him.
She had lied to her radical
friends, claimed he had
sexually abused their
three little children.
His name besmirched,
his tolerance exhausted,
his life in jeopardy,
he killed her first and
then killed himself.

Bob Boyd

Sometimes I’ve seen pictures of items on
Amazon that looked much bigger than they are.
Today I received a fan in the mail that I ordered
from Amazon a couple of days ago.
It looked at least 10 inches tall in the picture,
but when it arrived it was about 5 inches tall.
Of course, I could return it. But it had 5 star
ratings galore, and was alleged to be a
mighty powerhouse of a fan for its diminutive
size. So, as a man who always roots for the
underdog, I’m going to keep this small fan
and see if like a pint sized underdog it can
save the day and be a mini champion in
cooling a room.

Bob Boyd

A summer day at the Stoneham zoo.
You were a kid. I was a kid too.
We were both with our parents and
too young for romance and love.
But oh that passing look of interest
you blessed me with that day.
Though I was too young for love,
it stirred something in my heart.
I think for a moment I impossibly
wanted to get to know you.
I wasn’t even thinking of anything
like a hug or a kiss.
There was just something about
the way you looked and how
sweet you looked when you
glanced at me.
Moments like that, even far back
in my long life, make me wonder
about what might have been,
what opportunities for the right
one might have been missed.

Bob Boyd

I had to keep reminding myself
that you were too young for me.
You were in your twenties.
I was in my seventies.
You were adorable and probably
still are.
You had the sweetest voice I’d
ever heard and probably still do.
You were incredibly funny and
probably still are.
And you drove me nearly crazy
when you flirted with me.
I often had to use all my will
power to stop thinking about you.
And oh how I imagined how fun it
would have been being with you.
But you were in your twenties
and I was in my seventies.

Bob Boyd

A man drunk stands in the middle of
a street, his pants down to his feet.
He starts jumping up and down trying
to get his pants to levitate to his waist.
Finally he stops jumping and pulls
up his pants.
Next his mind goes somewhere known
only to him.
He starts shouting like a crazy man at
no one in particular.
After a few boisterous shouts, he
picks up a bottle of whiskey from
the ground, takes a swig, and stumbles
away.
So sad some people who were once
innocent children, who seemed to have
immense possibilities, succumb to fates like
that as they grow older.
Perhaps in the grand scheme of things, they
were fated to end up that way for unfathomable
reasons.

Bob Boyd

Cicadas singing their hearts out
in trees.
They must be male vocalists
singing love songs to make
female cicadas swoon.
Were I a young swain instead of
an old relic being beckoned
by the grave,
I’d love to be able to sing songs
like the cicadas sing to make
females swoon.

Bob Boyd

A city or a town in England named
Leigh, a sad sight to see.
Not unlike some cities here in the US,
old buildings abandoned, trash in the
streets.
I’m sure there were better areas in
Leigh, just like cities here.
But what a shame to see parts of
once beautiful cities gone to shit in
the US and in the UK.

Bob Boyd

Darkness drops, the forest goes silent.
He sees the moon is full, his pulse quickens.
He wants to run out of the forest full speed.
But as if frozen, he cannot move.
The chilling howl confirms his fears.
Before he’s ripped to shreds.

Bob Boyd

He jumps into the lion enclosure.
He yells and assumes a fighting stance.
A lion answers his foolhardy challenge.
It roars and slices his arms with its claws.
Miraculously he lives, his life spared.
Zookeepers rescue him before he’s torn apart.

Bob Boyd

The day is downcast, her heart is broken.
The man she pinned her hopes on left.
He’s off to fight a foreign war faraway.
She feels certain he will die there.
Months later she is proven right.
His corpse comes home in a body bag.

Bob Boyd

She was once young and quite beautiful.
Her looks gave her many advantages.
She had six marriages to unsatisfactory men.
She never had any offspring to enrich her life.
But she used to have pedigree dogs.
Her luck and her looks abandoned her.
Fate and age robbed her of them.
All the men who desired her ignored her.
She ran out of money and opportunities.
Her plight drove her a little crazy.
Now she mumbles meaningless words.
She’s homeless and begs for money.
And when she regains a little sanity,
She lives in her memories of better days.

Bob Boyd

A guy in England takes videos in
the streets.
Migrants, old people, young people
try to attack him.
Though he handily defended himself,
the attacks got so bad that now he
has a body guard with him.
The attacks still continue, but
fewer than before.
Those who try to attack him get their
asses kicked.
The odd thing about all this is his
camera sets them off.
They should be grateful he’s shooting
harmless videos instead of deadly bullets.

Bob Boyd

Days and nights
Sun and moon
Cloudy weather
Sunny weather
Cold weather
Hot weather
People born
People dying
Where they
Came from
Where they’ll
Go regardless
Of claims
Regardless
Of those
Who think
They know
Still a mystery

Bob Boyd

When a young man, he always wore
conservative, drab clothes.
Wearing clothes too colorful was
considered a taboo in his culture.
He felt compelled to conform to
the fashion constraints of his day,
not wanting to stand out too much
or face ridicule.
When he reached seventy odd years
of life, he broke free of the fashion
constraints of his culture.
Like people of many other cultures in
the world, he began wearing more
colorful clothes and felt better, freer.
People from other cultures even
complimented him on his new fashion
choices, as if he were a kindred soul
in a more liberated, colorful,
celebration of fashion and of life.

Bob Boyd

I’ve often wondered how many people
who thought bad things only happened
to other people are in their graves.

I’ve often wondered if because of that
misguided belief, they were not as
aware as they should have been and
strayed into deadly situations oblivious
to the dangers they could have avoided.

God knows, I’ve done that a few times
when I believed bad things only
happened to other people in my less
aware days when by luck I didn’t end
up dead.

And when nothing bad has ever
happened to you, like you’ve seen on
the news, it is so hard to realize you
could be one of those people.

It seems inconceivable that those
bad things could ever happen to
you until they do.

And, of course, even if you are fully
aware that bad things can happen
to you and you take every precaution
to avoid being a victim someday,
there’s no guarantee your vigilance will
keep you one hundred percent safe.

It’s as if some of us are tragically fated
to have those bad things happen to us
that only happened to other people
no matter what we do or don’t do.

Bob Boyd

I’ve often read about people who
commit suicide by jumping off
tall buildings onto the hard pavement
in the streets below.
It’s hard for me to understand how
they could get up the nerve to take
those deadly leaps.
Just the harrowing thought of
standing on the edge a tall
building and looking at the
streets below is scary to me.
Even seeing a movie scene of
someone standing of the edge
of a tall build is unnerving.
Hitting an air pocket in a plane
flight high above the earth is
scary enough for me.
Were I suicidal, I wouldn’t have
the nerve to do myself in by
leaping off a tall building.
I’d opt for something less terrifying,
perhaps like overdosing on aspirins
or even hanging myself to death.
So sad that many people in this world
come to such a place in their lives
that they are driven to jump off
high buildings.
I cannot imagine the horror as
they begin to fall to the ground.
I cannot imagine the anguish they
must have had in their hearts to
make such a life ending decision.

Bob Boyd

He knew when he saw her beautiful body he wanted
to be with her.
Her pretty face was an attraction too.
Her mind was inconsequential to him.
In his mind, her thoughts could never compare with
her perfect sexist of all bodies.
He fell in love with her, and she fell in love with him.
But after a few years of marriage, her beautiful body,
though still beautiful, no longer captivated him.
They had become so incompatible that their brains were
as if on different frequencies discordant to each
other.
He left her for a woman with an average body and average
looks but with a beautiful mind more compatible with his.
Oh how he enjoyed talking with her for hours and hours.
Eventually they married, and he had a lovely wife and a happy
life.

Bob Boyd

A woman went missing for 40 years.
Miraculously, she was still alive.
But when the police found her.
She said she was missing because
she wanted to be missing.
I kind of admire people who choose
to disappear themselves.
For perhaps strange reasons
not clear to me, I like the thought
of taking on a new identity, and
starting a new life.
Sort of like a reset with a fresh
existence and new experiences.
Maybe a chance to carve out a
better life with better outcomes.
Maybe a chance for a more
adventurous life, an escape
from a lackluster boring one.
Perhaps to get away from a
family where trouble always
arises with relatives who seem
to thrive on chaos when you
just want to live in peace.
In the case of the woman who
vanished for 40 years,
I wouldn’t be surprised if she
disappeared to get away from
a controlling boyfriend she
feared would never let her go
and that might have killed her.

Bob Boyd

Watching a 50s movie
Remembering when bodies
Weren’t pumped up with
Steroids
Injected with silicone
Some bodies looking
Too cartoonish
Some bodies looking
Too freakish
How I miss those days
Back in the 50s
When bodies looked
more natural
I’ll probably miss those
Days even more
If I’m alive when
Bodies become
Transhuman
Part human and part
Machine

Bob Boyd

In your beautiful eyes I see
what would be a lucky man’s
destiny, what would be
a love greater than any
love ever, what would be a
more wondrous love than
any of the wonders in the
world, what would be a
blessing from the heavens if
I could be with you for a lifetime
or even for a day.

Bob Boyd