Category: Poems

I’ve watched many crime shows.
I like the way the police put together
the pieces and solve the crimes.
I find their methods fascinating.
But I cannot watch crime shows
about serial killers.
I find it too disturbing hearing
about how they tortured and
murdered their victims – usually
women, sometimes children.
I don’t like seeing them given
any coverage for their demonic
infamy and all the innocent
people they savagely slaughter.
To me it’s close to an unintended
glorification of the worst
monsters among men.

Bob Boyd

dreamed about a woman last night
attractive, playful, teasingly fun
a fun dream that ended too soon

dreams about women are the
closest I’ve come to being with
a woman in over ten years now,
the longest I’ve ever been without
a woman in my life –

mostly by design

mostly by not caring to play
any games or suffer any heartaches

mostly because I didn’t want to
be with younger women who
flirted with me when I was in
the work force over a year ago,
that some old men might have
considered gifts from God

but with age and acquired wisdom
I see the futility of
relationships with women
decades younger than me
that I’m old enough to be
a grandfather to

perhaps these dreams of women
are a subconscious need manifesting
itself in my dreams once in a while

perhaps in those dreams the
repressed romantic in me is
aimlessly seeking love

Bob Boyd

Daily I hear them
the symphony of birds singing
different tones, different pitches
so many melodic songs I don’t
know the meaning of

I suspect it’s all about mating
lonely birds like lonely people
seeking a love and perhaps
driven by nature to procreate
and advance their species
just as human seem driven
with millions and millions of
us to advance our species.

Someday I plan to find out
which birds sing which songs
and maybe find out precisely
what the different songs mean
beyond simply mating calls
if they sing about other matters .

Bob Boyd

When I lived in the Philippines superstitions abounded about the mysterious
Siquijor Island, a province of the Philippines.

Some believed if you visited there, you might never come back and never be found.

And shape-shifting vampiric creatures called aswang roamed there seeking human prey. If you see one, you’re dead.

Cursed belette trees inhabit the island, which are said to be the dwelling place for supernatural beings, like the tikbalangs, half-horse, half-human creatures who like to cause travelers to get lost.

And evil witches, God forbid if you run into one of them!

Fireflies populated the island too, thought to be the souls of dead young women.

What is true about about Siquijor is many respected spiritual healers live there
and many seek their help for all manner of medical complaints.

And the island just might be a bit mystical.

Bob Boyd

Before my four year stint in the Philippines,
when I was in my mid sixties,
I used to see a beautiful elderly woman, who appeared
to be in her early seventies,
taking walks alone not far from where I worked.

She was always dressed in fashionable dresses and
had beautiful gray hair she wore in a long wavy hair style.

She was easily one of the most beautiful elderly
women I had ever seen.

I never saw her with anyone. I believed
she had a husband who preceded her in death,
and that her long walks were not only for exercise
but also to ease her grief over losing him.

I never saw her on her walks when I retired from
the Philippines and lived near where she walked.

I thought she had perished and felt a little sad that
she had died.

But a few months ago, eleven years later, I saw her
taking a walk.

Her hair had grayed more and become as if frayed
by age; she had put on weight, and looked close to
dying.

I was sad to see her in such a state, but then I felt that
if what I had believed about her had been correct, her
having a husband that died before her,

she would be young again and reunited with him in
the afterlife and be happier than she ever could
have been in this impermanent life.

Bob Boyd

I put no credence in palm reading
but I’ve always found the idea that
futures could be found in peoples’
palms fascinating.

And that by lines in one’s hands
futures could be revealed: Live lines,
fate lines, heart and head lines,
Mercury and Sun lines.

Whoever dreamt up palmistry must
have had an ingenious imagination.

And it always made for a cool scene
when a palm reader in a movie,
got a terrified look on her face
while reading some doomed soul’s
palm.

And though palmistry is labeled a
pseudoscience, I find it fascinating
and amazingly imaginative.

But not enough to ever have my palm
read. Besides, I’ve lived far enough
into my future that all the tales
have been told.

Bob Boyd

Some claim we astral travel in dreams
Some say it’s our consciousness that
travels in the netherworld of dreams.
I’m not a believer in these claims, but
what they believe could be right.

And sometimes dreams take place
in otherworldly surreal settings
or strange wonderland scenarios.
So I can see some attributing that
to traveling astrally in those strange
dreams to astral plane destinations.

But even in the most bizarre dreams
I’ve ever experienced, I’ve never had
the sense of leaving my body.

I have wondered if sometimes my
dreams have intersected with the
dreams of others, especially in a
romantic dream with a woman
I’ve never met in the material
world.

Maybe that could be a form of
astral traveling, or maybe those
dreams where one meets others
are just dreams.

It is my hope that those who
have nightmares are not astral
traveling to horrifying places
and are just having unsettling
dreams.

Bob Boyd

when i was in the air force and attached to an army post in zweibrucken, germany

i was with some friends in a restaurant in another part of germany and surprisingly a waitress there couldn’t take her eyes off me as though i were a famous movie star

she wasn’t the waitress at our table and i hadn’t spoken to her in the little german i knew from 2 years of college german at the u of maryland that offered college courses on the army post

she was quite pretty and sometimes i wondered why i didn’t talk to her and possibly had a serendipitous romance with her and if that lovely german waitress could have been the love of my life

i’ve had other situations like that i never pursued
maybe missed opportunities

i think it’s because i always preferred to know a woman a little instead of blindly pursuing her

and i never cared for trying to pick up a woman i didn’t know

or maybe i wasn’t bold enough to take that kind of risk for love
though i did like the female attention and was always surprised by it

bob boyd

i once had an acquaintance who was a carefree
good looking guy with a good looking girlfriend
who died in a car accident when she was with him
one horrible night

the guy went a little crazy after that and seemed
to find comfort in collecting nazi memorabilia
and hating jewish people

i never understood that terrible transformation
it was like a doctor hyde became a permanent
jekyll

or as if he had become possessed by the spirit of
a dead nazi

i’ll never know what made a great nice guy
turn to something evil and change so radically

i only know when he handed me a nazi sword
it felt undeniably evil

bob boyd

romantic love doesn’t appear to last
breakups and divorces
clearly attest to that
it seems temporary even in a marriage
of many decades after
when one of the spouses
passes away and love
appears done
the till death do
us part

in some cases the surviving spouse
marries someone else
and revived romantic love
becomes temporary once again
when one of them dies

but it may not be temporary
when in deathbed visions
a surviving spouse
sees the deceased spouse
in a vision
when the surviving spouse
is dying
as if the spouses are
joined together again
in the afterlife
as if romantic love might
be permanent
beyond this life

as if deathbed visions
possibly are proof
that romantic love lasts

bob boyd

A midwife proficient in herbs,
came under suspicion
in the Burning Times.
Tortured, tried, convicted,
condemned to the stake
dragged to it screaming.
Heartless uncaring tormentors
bound her to the stake laughing.
Her sobbing and tears
drowned out by
the clamor
of the rabid crowd
joyously awaiting
the day’s entertainment,
shouting in unison,
Burn the witch!
Burn the witch!
The stake lit,
her screams above the flames
the crackling, devouring fire
silencing her wailing screams.
When her life burned out,
in the malevolent blaze,
in the foul smelling
dark, smoke filled air,
her soul found release in heaven.
When her tormentors died,
they burned in hell.

Bob Boyd

sometimes i wonder how much time do i have left
in this temporary life
will i live just a few more years
or will i live twenty or more
whatever the length of time i have left
it really is of no matter
three or twenty
the time i have left
is no longer a concern to me
i’ve lived a long enough life
i see no point in hoping for a longer one
living too long can be a losing proposition
the mind and body can suffer
diseases, debilitations and dementia
so whatever the time till my expiration date
what will be will be

Bob Boyd

dark clouds invaded the night
wolves howled
cryptids shrieked
aliens fled
humans and animals hid
the nukes were on the way
and hell had broken loose

Bob Boyd

I dreamt I was sitting next to a lion in a dream.
The lion appears peaceful but for how long?
For some reason, I cannot just walk away.
Insanely, I reach over to the lion and
pet him a bit.

The lion doesn’t show any reactions,
which worries me. I don’t know if he is going
to snap and bite my head off.

A dog appears in the dream and bumbles
toward the lion, and I’m worried for the dog.
The lion seems to tolerate the dog, but I
feel a sense of unease for the dog’s safety.

Just as the lion opens his mouth and puts
the dog’s entire head in it, I wake up.

Bob Boyd

on the island of in orkney scotland
stands a nearly round rock formation
of 26 stones, originally 60 stones
estimated to date as far back as
2500 BC or even further back

no one knows what the purpose
of it was, who built it or the exact
date it was built

some believe it was for astronomical
or magical purposes

perhaps it was for mystical purposes
to summon forces from beyond
or to pay homage to ancient gods

whatever the case, it’s a fascinating
mysteries that may remain unknown.

bob boyd

she was in her 20s
i was in my seventies
and she liked the
way I looked
despite my advanced
age
she always flirted with me
and nearly drove me crazy
with her alluring attention
her adorable looks
her cute petite body
and her sweetest voice
that I’d ever heard
but i was in my seventies
and she was in her twenties
and it just didn’t add up
and i couldn’t cross that
ever so tempting line

bob boyd

I’ve never understood men who pay for sex with prostitutes.
It always seemed empty and shoddy to me.
I’ve heard some of their excuses:
“You pay for it one way or another.”
“I just want sex without the drama.”
“Do you think a gold digger is any different from a prostitute?”
“I like the excitement of a woman who knows all the sexual tricks.”

Maybe there’s a little validity in some of their excuses,
but I’d think these men would prefer a wholesome relationship
rather than a quickie with a woman who sees men as only customers.

Yet, there are men who have wholesome relationships, even married ones, who resort to paying women for sex.
Maybe there’s the lure of being with women more attractive
than they feel they could ever be with romantically.
Or maybe they’re just morally deficient and see paying for sex
more thrilling than the more fulfilling sex in a loving relationship.

Bob Boyd

It pissed me off when I heard a woman in her fifties
refer to a pedophile as a minor attracted person,
as if sexually abusing a child was a trivial matter,
as if being a pedophile was an acceptable perversion.
I was thinking to myself the police should keep an eye on her.
I wondered if her trivializing an abhorrent crime against children meant she was guilty of it.
If not, I wondered how she got so screwed up in the head
that she made light of the sexual abuse of a kid.
But perhaps she was borderline evil and got off on
fantasies of terrible things being done to children.
Whatever the case, who in their right mind would
ever trivialize the harming of a child?

Bob Boyd

I hear the rain beating against my apartment windows.
It’s so loud it sounds like an invading army
trying to lay siege upon my apartment.
After a while it gives up, as if winded from the failed invasion.
It’s like the aftermath of a battle when the din is done.
And it seems like the world is at peace again.

Bob Boyd

Because we don’t talk or show our feelings
And are powerless to defend ourselves
And we’re nonviolent maybe to a fault,

Lesser evolved barbaric humans
Heartlessly feel they have the right
To slaughter and eat us.

As if our inability to defend ourselves
And our silent Gandhian nonviolent nature
Were a green light for their
Slaughter and wanton consumption
Of us all over the world.

This is analogous to the
Colonizers who take over
Countries often with bloodshed,
Except colonizers don’t cook and eat
Those colonized as humans do gentle us.

But know this, and know it well!

As I clearly see with my prophetic sight
The meek will inherit the earth
And the last shall be first. That’s us.

It will happen when the loathsome humans
Are nuked and cooked by their bombs,
When they perish to the last soy eater,
And their bodies are eaten by the earth.

Then Freedom! Glorious freedom at last
Will ring out of our hidden hearts
All over the newborn soy world!

Bob Boyd