Author: Bob Boyd

Like Mother Teresa helped the sick and the poor,
Dr. Ruth and her daughter help the worn and the torn.
Teddy Bears and Stuffed Animals.
The hospital, in Vancouver and Maple Ridge, BC Canada.
Thousands of operations performed, corrective surgery
for broken joints, fur grafts, face lifts, stuffing replacements,
paw pad replacements and more.
A Teddy Bear, headless, armless, stomach torn,
resurrected with surgeries like brand new,
thanks to Dr. Ruth’s skilled doctoring and tender care.
See the hospital’s website at https://bearlanddesigns.com.

Bob Boyd

Beneath the skin of
The one we fondle today,
There is a skeleton,
Propping up the flesh.

Ikkyu

I love this poem, but it disturbs me deeply. The image of a woman I am holding in my arms being a skeleton one day is almost unbearable. But it radically reminds me of the nature of this impermanence we temporarily live it.

After Brad’s girlfriend broke up with him,
he said she broke his heart in so many pieces
that like Humpty Dumpty’s pieces,
his heart could never be put back together again.

He said he’d become like the Tinman
without a heart and better to be without a heart
than with a heart that can be broken.

He always said that when he got drunk,
when he tried to forget the woman
who broke his heart beyond repair.

Bob Boyd

Supposedly the earthbound disembodied
aka ghosts

have lost their ways to the Light.

I’m proposing a GPS system for them,
so instead of haunting dusty old houses

they can find their way to the Light.

Bob Boyd

For some people, going to Vegas is like a
dream come true.

For me, it has zero appeal.

I don’t care for the glitter or the
gambling for gold.

And you couldn’t pay me to
go there.

Bob Boyd

Heard a story about a male ghost
coming through Alexa

like a Ouija Board

the ghost played an old song about
not being able to go through a white door

presumably further into the afterlife

after that the woman and a neighbor
saw the male ghost

in their homes

the woman who owned the Alexa
used sage and holy water

to cleanse her home

supposedly her methods worked
along with a prayer

the ghost never appeared again.

Bob Boyd

On many YouTube videos
far too often

I see women hiking and
camping alone.

Nobody should be in the
wilderness alone

vulnerable and without
someone to help

if an accident happens
to them.

Many have died alone
like that

when accidents gradually
became fatal.

Worse is if an animal
or a human predator

stalks them and takes their
lives

when they are all alone
unarmed and easy prey.

Bob Boyd

Dead men tell no tales it’s true,
but the clinically dead for only
moments tell many tales

a life review where they see
the good and not so good
things they did in their lives

not punitive but for greater
spiritual growth

the tunnel and the white light
maybe a gateway to a
glimpse of the heavens

for some what seems the
Apex of the afterlife

unconditional love beyond words
beyond imagination

that makes the living world
seem dreamlike and unreal
by comparison they say

a place they never want to leave
that they call their real home

Of course, they weren’t completely
dead, so no telling if their tales
were true

or if when they are completely dead
their tales will prove untrue.

Bob Boyd

Brian’s friend Mark had been on a haunted
houses tour.

He raved about it to Brian, but Brian thought
Mark seemed a little off from his usual self.

There was a strange look in his eyes
and the thought

he has a haunted look about him appeared
in Brian’s mind.

Mark wanted Brian to join him for another
haunted houses tour,

but Brian always felt if you mess with ghosts,
they will mess with you and he declined to go.

Brian never saw Mark after his second
haunted houses tour.

Mark had gone inexplicably mad and leaped off
a skyscraper to his death.

Bob Boyd

Jenny picks apples off the apple trees.
Her husband Jed gathers the crops.
Some city slickers think they talk funny,
Their bad grammar and hick accents.
But them city folk don’t know nothin’
about the art of living off the land.
And Jenny and Jed are a damn sight
Smarter than those city slickers
When it comes to practical things.
And those good country folk know
What’s right and what’s wrong
And have better values, and
Humility and goodness in them
Than those smug city slickers.
And if another Depression came,
I’d rather be a Jed and Jenny
Instead of a thinks he’s smarter
than me city slicker standing
Like a beggar in the bread line.

Bob Boyd

Some thoughts about this poem:

Of course, not all people who live in cities are like the city slickers in this poem. But some people mistakenly think country folks and their country accents are inferior, and they are not as smart as them.

A while back, I saw Tom Hanks imitate a Southern accent on SNL to take a dig at Trump supporters as if they were racist, hayseed hicks.

Regardless of your politics, Trump hater, Trump lover, or politically indifferent, you might find it offensive that Tom Hicks used a Southern accent to suggest people with such accents are like racist hicks and, no doubt in his opinion, too stupid to vote correctly. And I know without doubt many people with beautiful, Southern accents are far smarter than him and me.

I write this as a guy with a Bostonian accent who lives in the South and loves accents. When a person here in North Carolina sometimes kids me about my accent, I kid that person back by saying you’re hearing the Queen’s English, and we both have a laugh.

Three English women in England
order pizza

that is usually delivered by foreign men
from a religion

in which many men think women
not of that religion

are of easy virtue and “asking for it”
the way they dress,

not covered from head to toe,
with parts of their bodies exposed.

When the pizza delivery guy
arrives at their door,

they open their bath robes
exposing their naked bodies to him for a tip.

Nothing like giving credence to a
dangerous and erroneous stereotype.

And no doubt, he will tell his buddies
who will know their address.

Bob Boyd

I read there are 240 venom spitting spiders,
from a family called Scytodidae.

I’m thinking who in the heavens was responsible
for that decision?

God must have minions he delegates some
creations to.

I’m picturing an incompetent spider loving
minion

who got carried away when he found out
he could create such bizarre creepy crawlies.

I mean, did we really need 240 venom spitting
spiders?

In fact, why even one?

Bob Boyd

Like a human that “sings for its supper,”
there’s a cat that swims for its food.

The Fishing Cat dives headfirst into water
and catches fish for its sustenance.

It lives in South and Southeast Asia in
swamps and marshes.

It subsists mostly on fish but will eat
nearly anything near the shores of the water.

Regrettably, in a YouTube video, I saw
one kill a duck.

I know it was just doing what its designed to do, but
it was painful to see it kill that cute, little water fowl.

That aside, it’s amazing how these cats adapted
to hunting for prey under the water,

and it’s thrilling to see one dive headfirst into it
and swim like a fish.

Bob Boyd

She always preferred the bad boys,
fixer uppers she called them.
She liked the excitement and their
wild, unpredictable ways.
And she usually repaired them with
her love and behavior adjustments.
The last fixer upper she was with
fixed her up with a trip to the ER,
a busted face and a broken body.

Bob Boyd

Maybe there are creatures
lurking in the unseen,

hidden from us except on rare
occasions

where people report sightings
of these creatures called cryptids.

Perhaps the unseen is comprised of many
dimensions unknown to us.

Maybe like animals living in a forest, many
different creatures live and thrive

in unseen worlds beyond our senses
and our perceptions.

Bob Boyd

In my twenties I was playing a pong game
in an upright machine at a store I was working in;

I think in the seventies.

A woman came up behind me, so close I could
feel the softness of her beautiful body against me.

She wasn’t my type, but thinking back maybe
she could have been

as much as her closeness affected me,
as nice as it felt having her that near me.

Old and womanless now, how I miss those days
and the closeness of women once in my life.

Bob Boyd

The grocery store is brimming with people,
foot traffic everywhere.

Strangers all.

Three with carriages almost
run into me, pleasant excuse me’s.

Curiously, this feels a little like socialization –

this recluse’s rare contact with others.

Maybe I need to get out in the world more.

Bob Boyd

In retrospect

many are the times I’ve been
blinded by love

unable to see red flags rising
unable to discern them silently unfurling

at least, my vision always cleared
with time and disappointments

at least, I was able to extract myself
from those shortsighted relationships
with 20/20 vision.

Bob Boyd

More and more
I’ve become keenly
aware

of the impermanence
of this transitory life.

More and more I see
how nothing, not even
romantic love,
lasts in
this fleeting world.

And the impermanence of
romantic love
disturbs me deeply

despite my being long
removed from it.

Bob Boyd

It was once a great empire
“upon which the sun never set.”
Now it’s barely a remnant of its
forever greatness.
Now it’s like a wounded lion
slowly dying.
And ripe for the conquering
from within –
without even a shot fired
and unwitting appeasement –
of imported exploiters with no
allegiance to it.

Bob Boyd