Category: Poems

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

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

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

I saved a ladybug’s life today
It fell in my fish tank or maybe
It wanted to end it all. It thrashed
In the water desperately. Had my
Hearing been better, I probably
Would have heard ladybug
Cries for help.

I could have looked the
Other way and let the ladybug
Drown and become waterlogged
Fish food. But a nobler cause
Guided my actions. I couldn’t
Bear to let that little ladybug
Suffer a moment longer and die.

So with a piece of paper
Like a life raft for drowning
Souls at sea, I eased the
Gasping ladybug onto
The paper. When I got the
Ladybug to shore aka a
Ledge on a table, I swear
Inside my head
I heard a tiny ladybug
Thank you.

Bob Boyd

My parents always said why can’t you be like Arthur Koski
As if he was some kind of sainted kid above wrongdoing
And I was some kind of ne’er-do-well loser who always screwed up
I hated that ideal Arthur Koski and his supposedly perfect ways
When I dropped out of high school and Koski made the honor roll
My parents threw that in my face and kicked me out of the house
Years later that perfect Arthur Koski became a Catholic priest
I became a grunt working whatever construction jobs I could get
No doubt my parents would have said why couldn’t I have been as pious and as educated as Arthur Koski
I lived a common life with a good woman, made enough money to get by, and never got in trouble
Arthur Koski, on the other hand, was arrested for molesting altar boys
If I were less a man and vengeful, I would have said to my parents why couldn’t Arthur Koski have been like me?

Bob Boyd

Mary Lindsay went to church
And came home saved
Mary Lindsay went to a bar
And came home drunk
Mary Lindsay went to church again
And came home saved again
Mary Lindsay went back to the bar again
And came home drunk again
I’m not throwing any stones
At least she was trying.

Bob Boyd

This is a simple poem and I’ve created many fictional characters in poems, but despite the poem’s simplicity, Mary Lindsay is my favorite character.

I love her because I feel she had a difficult childhood that caused her severe harm, like being sexually abused as a child. And that dark chapter in her young life, and probably other horrible things, led her to alcoholism.

I love her because she’s not giving up despite what she’s been through, and I feel she will prevail in the end and have a great life despite the disadvantages she faced.