Proud honkers, wings flapping, Beaks bobbing, surround us Delicious crumbs of bread I decorate the ground with Ravenous bird mob vying for manna Chorus of wings beating above me Air vibrating magically More regal Canadian Geese Landing on makeshift air strip Bread crumbed ground Like San Fran International Suddenly something surprising Never happened before An urgent avian beak Tugging at my pant leg Saying me, me, me My turn for some bread. Bob Boyd
Category: Poems
Pat Curran
Sometimes I wonder how Pat Curran is doing now
I wonder if she is still alive or gone to the Great Unknown
She was my sweetheart when we were both sweet sixteen
Blonde and beautiful, she caught my attention at a YMCA Teen Dance
With a single close dance, magical things happened, my heart in flight
I felt romantic love bloom; she did too, in our tender sweet innocence
But, woe, she was from Montclair, New Jersey and I was from Woburn, Mass
At least we had romantically amazing summers together; she stayed with a relative then
A song You Belong To Me was our song; our hearts chimed to it, we lived it
But, oh God, those falls, winters and springs were so unbearably cold without her
Summers were never as warm and exciting and as euphoric for me
Her hugs and her kisses launched my heart into a heaven like place
The sight of her so amazingly beautiful, so perfect in all ways
Made me feel like I’d won the biggest romantic lottery ever
And, guess what? We had vowed to marry when we grew older
A fairy tale happy ever after teenage dream I always had
Finding the right girl in high school and being with her forever
But, woe, then came the final summer when the weather cooled off
And she dropped a bomb on me that blew up my heart and ended our love
She told me she was sorry she was seeing a freshman at Rutgers U.
I bawled my brains out, my heart sank like the Titanic; I didn’t want to live
My dreams dead, my fairy tale romantic notions shattered, nothing mattered
But, hey, who hasn’t lost a love and who, like me, didn’t get over it
Still sometimes I wonder how Pat Curran is doing now.
Bob Boyd
Real Love
I don’t care about her wrinkles
She is still beautiful to me
Her inner beauty is forever
My love for her is too.
Bob Boyd
There’s Nothing Like the Newness of New Love
The rush. The joy. The heaven.
Of a new love.
Incomparable. Joyous. Ecstatic.
Pity like life
It’s impermanent.
Though love remains.
It never reaches those
Rapturous heights of
The newness again.
Bob Boyd
Creating Tulpas with One’s Mind
Supposedly people can create thought
form entities, tulpas, usually in human
form with one’s mind through concentration
and visualization.
Tibetan monks are said to have created
tulpas to rid them of attachments
impeding their spiritual progress, seemingly
kind of like a temporary helper that was
disposed of when the attachment was
dispelled.
Long ago, I read of a black magic magician
creating familiars in the same way, for what
I do not know. I suspect for nefarious
purposes, if real thought form entities can
be created with one’s mind.
Now there are people creating tulpas for
companionship. There’s even a website with
a forum about creating tulpas and other
facets of having one as a friend.
I don’t know if tulpas are real or imaginary,
but people who create them believe they
are sentient.
Maybe they are right. Maybe one can create
a tulpa with the power of one’s mind. I don’t
believe it’s possible, but I could be wrong.
Bob Boyd
Old Actresses
Once beautiful, young and sprightly
Seemed like they’d be young forever,
like silver screen immortals.
No longer beautiful, young and sprightly,
old and only silver screen images now,
breaking hips from falls, many dead.
If only they could have been immortals,
beautiful, young and sprightly forever.
Bob Boyd
women and lasting love
sitting here
thinking about
my life that’s past
remembering women
I’ve been with
too many to recall
them all
none lasted
beyond seven years
few stand out
none I’d want
to be with again
sometimes I think
if only I could
have a redo
and maybe find
lasting love
at other times
I think
gain the nonattachment
of a Buddhist monk
and forget about
women and
lasting love
Bob Boyd
Better Things to Do
Some people seem to thrive on
arguments
word duels on x and elsewhere
I’ve no time
no patience for that
besides arguments
usually amount to nothing
disruptive
wastes of time
as for trolls
the saying
don’t feed the trolls
seems wise
better, if able,
shut them down
delete them if
you control the media
you might indulge
in arguments
as for me
I’ve better things to do
and in the grander
scheme of things
they really have
no relevance
Bob Boyd
It’s all so fleeting
seconds
minutes
hours
days
weeks
months
years
lives
everything
all
eventually
gone
forever
sometimes
I feel
I’ve learned
the point of
it all
the TRUTH
from
NDEs
Eastern
Western
philosophies
but
then I
realize
even these
sources
could be
entirely
wrong
as time
and my
time
passes by
and is no
more
it’s all
so fleeting
Bob Boyd
Rockstar Gods
When I was a teenager
I wanted to be a rockstar,
which in retrospect was
a foolish dream for me.
I had no talent for singing
and didn’t have the patience
to learn how to play a
musical instrument.
And unknown to me back
then, I wouldn’t have liked
all the traveling, probably
would have burned out
on it after six months.
And unknown to me back
then, many rockstars have
died young, often from
drug overdoses.
Had I the talent for singing
and the patience to learn
how to play a musical
instrument, I easily could
have been one of them.
Bob Boyd
Seeing Women in Dreams Again
I’ve been seeing women in dreams again
nearly every night.
Saw them like this when I had cancer,
thought maybe they were there
because I was close to death.
Not sure what it means,
but the dreams are nice.
Maybe I’m close to death again
and they are back to guide me
into the afterlife.
I doubt that I’m close to death.
I feel far too good.
But death has a way of
sneaking up on you and
sometimes taking you out
when you least expect it.
Bob Boyd
Occupation
First came the missionaries
Then came the plunderers
The soldiers followed
The country fell
Having no military
To defend its land
From a foreign God
And a foreign power
Bob Boyd
beauty is like a mirage
beauty though
alluring
is like a mirage
here today
momentarily
gone tomorrow
transitory
never
ever after
fleeting like
this brief
life in the
blink of
eternity
bob boyd
Never the Right One
He had been with many women,
not as a womanizer just looking
for the right one.
But despite all those women,
he never found the right one
that would bring him the enduring
love he dreamed of beginning in
his teenage years.
He took solace in the fact that
others never found the right one
either, and even if you do find
the right one, it’s destined to
be temporary in this temporary
world.
Bob Boyd
despite their mutual attraction politically their love didn’t work out
he was a republican
a follower of trump
she saw him as a
right winger and a
nazi following a hitler
and politically stupid
she was a democrat
voted for biden
he saw her as a
supporter of
open borders
women raped
trying to cross
illegally into
the US
children sex trafficked
by cartels
hundreds missing
in the US
dangerous gang
members let in
tren de aragua
a 12-year-old girl
Jocelyn Nungaray
raped and strangled
to death by
dangerous illegals
from venezuela
because of their different
political affiliations
their love was doomed
and they parted
hating each other
bob boyd
Fated to be Mentally ill
Some people from birth
Fated to be mentally ill
Inherited
Genetic
Where’s the fairness
In that
Despite the unfairness
The affliction
Some are able
To lead great lives
Some famously
Others with more severe
Psychological conditions
Not so
Were I born that way
And suffered with serious
Mental illness
That treatments
And pills
Could barely
Or not alleviate
I’d wonder
Why me
And were my condition
So severe
I could barely function
Even medicated
I can see how
I or most anyone
Could become suicidal
From the
Constant torment
Of it all
Bob Boyd
Befriending a Little Jump Spider
Saw a video about a man
who befriended a little
jump spider. He even said
it was cute. I was almost
able to agree with him,
but not quite. I just cant
find spiders cute or
even likeable. I see them
as the creepy crawlies,
and I just don’t like them.
Squeamish though I
might have been, I liked
that jump spider less
when I saw it eating
helpless live tiny insects
the man hand fed it.
But that’s just me.
Bob Boyd
Twenty City Killer Asteroids Could One Day Smash Into Earth
Twenty city killer asteroids believed to be 460 feet wide
orbiting near Venus could one day strike earth with
the potential to destroy a largely populated area
on Earth, according to scientists.
Mercifully, this swarm of killer asteroids is not a definite
threat and may never collide with Earth, but it is
a threatening possibility. And one more
threatening possibility of the many that hover over us
in this luck of the draw world.
Bob Boyd
In a Movie, a Woman Calls upon the Devil to Save Her Husband’s Life
Despairing of her unanswered prayers to God to save her dying husband’s life,
a desperate, at wit’s end, woman calls upon Satan to save his life.
Help arrives almost immediately in the form of a smartly dressed woman who saves her husband’s life.
But as always is the case in tales and movies, dealings with the devil come with consequences.
The once good and kind husband becomes an evil man in a body without a pulse
Miraculously, he doesn’t kill anyone but almost does with the smartly dressed woman’s urgings.
A religious friend saves him with words and prayers and he extracts himself from the evil smartly dressed woman’s tenacious hold on him.
My takeaway from the movie is be wary of dealings with devils or sketchy people.
Bob Boyd
The Hunger for Attention
Some people seem addicted to attention.
I’m not saying that’s a bad thing; it’s just
how they are wired.
I’m wired differently. I don’t like a lot of
attention.
I’d be uneasy were I known all over the
Internet like some people have become
often through hard work and successful
self promotion, not easy to do.
Worse, some through scandalous behavior
or posting something that backfired and
got them Internet breaking attention
that mortified them.
I’m happier with being obscure and
unknown in my soul-satisfying seclusion.
Bob Boyd