Category: Poems

Bookworm

I never finished Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment
A bookworm beat me to it and probably got more out of it
Than I ever did.

I think he’s working on Chekhov now. I’ve read Chekhov
But I’ll bet that damn worm is getting more out of Chekhov
Than I did.

I don’t know why he prefers Russian authors. I guess he
Is a little highbrow and has good taste.

Bob Boyd

Splatter

The young moth was a daredevil
He loved flirting with death
To impress the other moths
Particularly the female ones
One night he daringly dive bombed
An old 1985 Buick on Highway 66
Intending to miss it by a moth’s hair
But lost his thrillseeker focus
When a female moth rustled her wings
Flirting with dashing handsome him
And he became moth splatter
On the old Buick’s windshield

Bob Boyd

Night of the Kills

He used to love hunting, bagging bears and deers
Every exciting hunting season.
Until he saw some of his kills in a nightmare.
Somehow they had guns and shot him in the chest.
He woke up in a cold sweat relieved it was just a dream
Until he suffered a massive heart attack,
Feeling like he had been shotgunned in the chest,
He barely survived the heart attack and never hunted again.

Bob Boyd

Candy Store

As a kid of ten years of age,
He liked working in his father’s little candy store,
Selling candy to adults and children,
Making people happy with delicious sweets.
As an adult of twenty years of age,
He made it big in the movies in Hollywood,
Acted in many starring roles on the silver screen,
Enjoyed entertaining people in the movies and on TV.
Eventually he tired of Hollywood and all the plastic people.
He realized he didn’t belong there and left the bright lights.
He returned to the little town he was born in
And opened his own little candy store.

Bob Boyd

Too Late

Too late
She realized
She shouldn’t
Have been
Jogging alone
That scary
Half moon
Night

When he
Leaped out
Of the shadows
Grabbed her
Violated her
And killed her

Too late
For her
To ever
Live and
Breath and
Jog again

Bob Boyd

Butterfly Realization

She dreamed she was a butterfly
Dancing in the air above a field of flowers
When she woke up it took a moment
To realize she was really a human
Then as if peering through a telescope
Back ions through time and space
She saw in her mind’s eye
That she had been
A beautiful butterfly
In a former life
And that explained to her why she
Was always so drawn to butterflies
And kept a butterfly farm
And she felt at one with the universe
And all creatures and things

Bob Boyd

True and Lasting Love

She no longer loved him
But she stayed with him
His money was worth it
Despite her loveless
Unfulling marriage
That got old so fast
The money made it last
And last and last
Until he died at 93
And she was 73 and
Became reflective
And cried and cried
And cried over wasting
All those years for money
When in her youth and
With her beauty she
Could have had a shot
At true lasting love

Bob Boyd

The Big Apple

The old man takes his daily walk on Washington Street
In New York City
A resident of eighty-four years, he’s saddened by the changes.
The quality of the city has gone down. Crime has gone up.
The Big Apple has had a chunk bitten out of it,
But he thinks to himself at least today is a great day.
The sun is shining, clouds are billowing, and he’s feeling good.
Then BAM a young thug knocks the old man out.
He falls to the street on his head and never gets up.
All his musings. All his memories. And his life. Are done.
And the Big Apple has become a little more rotten to the core.

Bob Boyd

Into the Mountains

Tired of his country’s dissolution
And the fake MSM propaganda
And all the disturbing news
He hightailed it to the mountains
Hid himself from the fractures
Of his country falling apart
And lived off the fertile land
Like a frontiersman of old
Hunting and fishing
And growing his own food
Oblivious to the outside world
Never read or listened to
The clamorous fake news
Had no internet
No radio or TV
Freed from the turmoil
Safe when the bombs fell
And decimated half of
His vulnerable country
And enemies took it over
Never affected by any of it
Died a free man

Bob Boyd

Horrifying Howls

I heard the horrifying howls
That chilled my blood
That terrified me
That froze my body
And I knew another
Person was going to
Be shredded to pieces
On that full moon night
And I knew the beast
Was coming for me
I barred my doors
Locked my windows
Loaded my shogun
With regular bullets
Hoping without silver
My shots could stop him
The werewolf smashed
The door open with ease
And leaped upon me
Before I could shoot
A miracle happened
Huge hairy hands
Pulled him off me
And strangled him
To a whining death
Bigfoot to the rescue

Bob Boyd

Incompatibility

She always had to
Be in the spotlight
I never understood her
Need for so much attention
At first I thought I could endure it
In time I wearied of it
And she wearied of my
Abhorrence of the spotlight
Disdain of the attention
Had I been less needy
I would have seen the
Incompatibility before
I got involved with her
But, alas, I was lonely
And naively thought
I could make it work
Lesson learned
Be more aware
Going in

Bob Boyd

Happens Never

He feels like he’s going to live forever.
He forgets that happens never.
Once in a while he remembers
That he lives his life on a thread,
That one day will unexpectedly snap
And end his life forever.
He blocks that out of his mind
And goes on feeling like he’s living forever,
Again forgetting that happens never
He has no time to think of dying
He’s too consumed with living.
But tragically for him
A terminal cancer is stealthily
Sneaking into his waning life,
And soon will make its presence
Painfully clear to a shocked him.
And he will be aware 24/7 that
Living forever happens never.

Bob Boyd

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