Month: March 2025

Met Monica on a dating site. She made the
BS claim that she was Dracula’s daughter,
though she did have the required
Romanian accent or she was good at
faking it, and she wore the requisite
black cape.

And her canines did seem a bit too protruded.

As she talked dribble in a real or fake Romanian
accent, I was getting bored, had to leave

Just when I was trying to find an excuse to split,
my work friend Mark, who brags about
bedding 100 women, strolled over to the table
where I was sitting with Monica.

The way he was eyeballing her with what he
calls “his bedroom eyes”, I knew he wanted
her for number 101.

To my relief, he charmed Monica and didn’t
seem bothered when she told him
she was Dracula’s daughter. As the saying
goes, he was “keeping his eye on the prize”
and wasn’t distracted by her nonsense.

I took that opportunity to make my escape.

The next day Mark turned up dead, two
punctures wounds in his neck.

Not vampiric, the coroner deduced. He reported
Mark had been stabbed twice in the neck
with a poisoned needle.

Monica had vanished after that, maybe to eerie
Erie, PA, where she’d fit in, given her peculiar
propensities.

Days after Mark was waked and buried in
Green Hill Cemetery here in Greensboro, NC –

I saw him weird-eyed and hovering in the air
outside my second floor apartment bedroom
window minutes before the sun rose,
his canines a bit too protruded.

The sun rose and Mark was gone. Maybe I
was dreaming or seeing things, but I bought
some Vampire Off Spray at Ace Hardware,
just in case.

Bob Boyd

Rougarou, what happened to you?
Why do you attack Catholics?
And those naughty little kids too.
What is with those biased tactics?
Why can’t you do some social good?
Like a champion avenger
And be considered for sainthood
As a crime victim’s avenger.

Bob Boyd

Clouds rumbling
Lightning booming
Skies inflaming
Deadly winds blowing
Animals
Birds
Insects
Dying
Planet Earth flaming
Humans scattering
Screaming
Cars crashing
Buildings crumbling
The world dying
Alien Apocalypse destroying

Bob Boyd

When I listen to
the Capital Children’s Choir singing Viva la Vida,
in the YouTube video
embedded
to the right
of this paragraph

for reasons
I cannot fathom,
listening to them
singing makes
me teary-eyed.

And when the older girls
hit those higher notes
at 1:50 minutes,
to me, it sounds
like angels
singing in the heavens.

Bob Boyd

Though being alone can be lonely
without a love to share your life with,
whether you’re seventeen or seventy
or ever older, someone to love and
care about you through the highs and
lows of your life —

but for me being alone was advantageous
when a blood cancer tried to kill me three
years ago, and for reasons unknown to me,
I just didn’t care about the cancer or dying
and never had a day when I was sad about it.

If I’d had a girlfriend or a wife during that
year of cancer and many treatments and
the real possibility that the cancer was going
to kill me, I would have been worried about
the effects my cancer was having on her
and the real possibility of leaving her,
my love, forever, alone and without me.

But since I was alone, the thought that I could
die from the nefarious cancer did not bother me.
If death came, it was easy to let go when
I had no one who would be worried about me or I
would be worried about leaving.

One could think it would have been comforting
to have a girlfriend or a wife for support during
those times, but as you may have deduced by
the previous paragraphs, my answer is a
resounding no. It was easier for me to face that
unexpected cancer fate alone.

The only sadness I had was when I saw young
women in their twenties at the cancer center,
who at such a young age were stricken with
cancers.

And I imagined how horrifying it must have
been to be a young woman at essentially the
beginning of her life not knowing if she were
going to live or die, to live a full life, or
possibly be dead before she lived thirty
years of life. That to me was heartbreakingly
sad and so painfully tragic.

Bob Boyd

Dedicated earth angels helping the sick
Despite hard hours remaining angelic
Compassionately saving lives from dying
Never giving up on you, always trying
To heal your body with saintlike tenderness
Using precision, care, and benevolence
As surely as there is a number seven
There’s a special place for nurses in heaven.

Bob Boyd

There was a time when he feared
if death were an obliteration
and what was you ended forever.

Then he had an epiphany. If what
were me were ended forever,
there’d be no me to worry about it.

Though he read and listened to many
near death experiences, NDEs, in
books and in YouTube videos,
and saw common threads and
validations of life beyond this
existence

for reasons unknown to him,
he reached a place where if all
those NDEs were illusionary and
untrue, he didn’t care if what was
him would be obliterated and
gone forever.

Perhaps with age and living a
longer life filled with many experiences
and places, an equanimity, a Zenlike
acceptance, emerged into his
consciousness, and he realized that
if death were the end of him forever,
he just didn’t care about the possibility
of being obliterated any longer.

Bob Boyd

flying fiends
winged humanoids
malevolent and
terrifying monsters
with wings
like flying demons

Ozark Mountains
alleged to be
among their
haunts particularly
at Turkey Creek

they swoop down
from the sky
in a moment
and allegedly
it feels like
death is coming
from above

I find it hard to
believe in these
humanoid monsters

but many people
who seem sincere
and believable
attest to having
seen or experienced

these flying fiends
these terrifying
winged horrors

and I find accounts
of cryptids, monsters
and aliens fascinating
whether or not
they are merely
conspiracy theories

Bob Boyd

When I was a young man, I read about a guy
who toppled over his motorcycle in an accident
and landed on his head.

A doctor told him if he hadn’t developed his neck
muscles he could have been paralyzed for life.

Amazed at how neck muscles could be so
protective in accidents, falls or fights

I’ve been doing neck exercises for my neck
muscles dutifully for decades.

I also wanted an imposing, muscled up neck
like wrestlers have but ….

despite my decades of exercises and techniques,
it was non-respondent to my diehard attempts.

As a 6’ 1” slender ectomorph my genetics refused
to cooperate with my big neck-building ambitions.

At least my neck muscles are still strong, maybe
strong enough to survive a deadly impact

and despite my genetic limitations, I see progress in that,
and I’m satisfied my decades of efforts were not in vain.

Bob Boyd

Sometimes when
nights are stilled
and birds are hushed

I remember a woman
a caring social worker
who came with love
into my life

and left me when she
had a host of health
problems because
like a martyr she
didn’t want to burden
me with her sicknesses

in spite of our love
and my wanting to
stay with her and care
for her forever

and were I not so
battle hardened
in life and in love
when I remember her
and our lost love

I could cry as many
tears as there are
stars in the night skies

Bob Boyd

When I go to my death
no one will weep for me
which is the way I always
wanted it

When I go to my death
it will be the celebration
of my ashes
the end of earthly concerns
for my scattered remains

And by all things held sacred
I swear I will wholeheartedly
welcome what I believe will be
my ultimate awakening

Bob Boyd

I have seen too many true crime shows
where one spouse murders the other
sometimes surprisingly and shockingly
to me the murderer is the wife or someone
she hires or talks into killing her spouse

I write surprisingly because despite the
many cases to the contrary usually
I don’t think of the more nurturing and
fairer sex as capable of murder
or murderous thoughts that are more
likely and more common with men
and to me the fewer murders by wives
attest to my take on that

often when the killings are done by the
husbands they play the pathic part
of a bereaved, grief-stricken husband
instead of manning up and confessing

these cases I hate the most and
sometimes they make me feel angered
I cannot fathom how these husbands
can physically harm or diabolically
kill their wives they loved and married

the worst is when they cry on tv and
ask for the support of the public in
finding their wives’ murderers
and sob in front of the police during
lengthy interrogations

I find it gratifying when these monsters
finally get found out and sent to prison
hopefully for the rest of their lives

and to me if things in a marriage get
so bad that one spouse feels like
killing the other it’s time to say
goodbye and not do something crazy
that will end in shame and incarceration
and a stain forever on one’s soul

Bob Boyd

social media
sometimes a blessing
sometimes a curse
vast network
for socialization
can meet people from
all over the world
mostly good people
sometimes evil
unlimited knowledge
can learn practically
anything online
can expand your
mind and your world

sometimes a curse
bullied children suicides
catfishing and scams
pedophiles
sexual predators
scammers
twisted people
roaming social
media sites
and on dating apps

unwary people
scammed for thousands
some women looking
for love raped
after meeting
strangers on dating apps
on rare occasions
murdered

it seems everything
on earth is
or becomes
a combination of
good and evil

but one of the worst
cases of evil was
when evil trolls
kept emailing
a bereaved family
photos of their
daughter’s murdered
body who was
murdered by a
psycho she met
met online
who plastered
photos of her
dead body all
over the Internet

morbid photos
said to
have been
sent by a
community of
disturbed and
women hating
men called incels

Bob Boyd

The day I met you the sun rose in my life
Everything became more beautiful.
Everything became more bright.

The sky became bluer.
The world became newer.
The songs of the birds became sweeter.

And my life felt wondrous and complete
Being with beatiful loveliest of all you.

And when the love in our hearts blossomed,
And radiated up to the heavens,
The angels sighed with delight.
And I believe our love was predestined
And will be everlasting.

And if by chance I leave this world before you,
I’ll still be loving you from the afterlife
Sending my undying love to you.

And I know when we both leave this earth
we’ll be together in the afterlife
in love forever and ever.

Bob Boyd

I’m listening to the man singing about Oz never giving anything to the Tim Man that he didn’t already have,
and I’m transported back to a time I liked better than
the aging out time I’m in now.

And I’m reminded of all the good times that are past
and gone forever except when I relive them in my memory.

And I find myself hoping the afterlife is a place where
good times never pass, where happiness always lasts,
where true love is always true, and where I’ll be spending an eternity with you even though we haven’t met yet.

Bob Boyd

Another evil entity in Greensboro Park
In the scary, forbidden and evil dark.
Be there no end to this devilry?
Unknown to lovelorn me, Baba Roba,
Supposedly only a Slavic myth,
Was terrifyingly bona fide, and she had
Shapeshifted into a beautiful woman
And blew me the most tantalizing kiss.
Thought finally under a fortuitous moon
I’d met my life’s love, thanked the God above.
But, alas, when I gave her a mere kiss,
She shapeshifted back into a scary old witch
And cursed me into a croaking toad.
Said she’d remove the curse If I gave
Her half my bank account. I croaked an okay.
She removed the curse temporarily, so I
Could get to my bank, Summit Credit Union.
Upon my return, doused that Baba Roba
With a concoction of holy water and hawthorn,
And she screamed like a banshee and died.
Maybe. Hopefully. Crossing my fingers.

Bob Boyd

She was 26.
I was 75.
Old enough
to be her grandfather.
She was petite,
charmingly adorable
incredibly funny
and she had
the sweetest voice
I’d ever heard.

At work
she flirted with
me so tortuously
much that it took
all my will power
and more to not
get enamored with her.

Sometimes my
mind was assailed
with constant thoughts
of her like a person
gets on the brink
of falling in love.

But I couldn’t go there.
I had to put a boundary
on what would have
been a senseless
impossible love
that never would have
lasted.

Once she begged me
to attend a work event
with her, but sadly,
regrettably, I had
to say no. And it
hurt my heart so
much to have had
to reject her
and that I might have
hurt her feelings.

I really wanted to go
there with her,
to be with her.
But I knew that
spending an evening
sitting next to her
would have rendered me
unable to resist her
and I would have made
the foolish mistake
of starting
something that
just could not be.

I’ve never believed in
putting boundaries on
love, but I had to be
realistic and fair to her.

And though it
pained my heart
and could have been
foolishly seen
as old man’s
gift from God,
falling in love or
even going
out with her
was a boundary I
could never cross.

But oh how incredibly
adorable she was
and oh how I miss the
sound of her voice
the sweetest I’d
ever heard.

Bob Boyd

She calls herself Atmosphere, and her YouTube ASMR Videos
are like something created in an alternative world far richer than this one.
She must have a background in theatre productions, acting, and the like
to create such surreal, unreal, mystical, amazing, peerless ASMR videos
such as ASMR Morning Rituals for Your Highness in an Ancient Realm or Preparing For a Treasure hunt – Medieval Fantasy RPG.

She takes you into undreamed worlds and plunges your inner world into states or relaxation that are almost unexpectedly transcendent.
In a myriad of indescribable ways she navigates you on fantastical trips
through the many magical places she creates with her incredible imagination.
She is just as magical and mysterious as her ASMR videos, and I often wonder who she really is and how she has this phenomenal talent.

Hail to Atmosphere! Queen of ASMR Artists!

Bob Boyd

At Saint Joseph’s Oratory in Montreal, Canada
Brother Andre, a Canadian Saint is entombed.

Humble doorkeeper, a brother not a priest
least likely to be used by God, perhaps
the last being first, became a miracle worker
healed ailing supplicants from all over the world,
the power of his supercharged prayers and
unceasing devotion to Saint Joseph.

Never took credit for healing 10,000 or more
so humble, so devout, so saintly was he.

When he died, a million people streamed past his coffin
in reverence to this humble, God-blessed healing saint.
His mortal remains lie in the coffin at the back of the oratory in a sacred room, a powerful shrine where crutches of many healed pilgrims adorn the walls.

If you go there and visit his tomb, do not be surprised
if you feel palpable, saintly energy that will renew you
and replenish your faith. This I write from experience.

Bob Boyd