Category: Poems

No need for fear when Death arrives
To take us to the eternity of Love and Light
Relocation to a higher, brighter world
Freed from the uncertainties of this impermanence
Passing illusion, clung to as if our lives go on here forever
Except for occasional reminders of our mortality
Death of loved ones, killer diseases, and more
World on edge with ever-present threats of nuclear holocaust
Murders, wars, atrocities, and injustice across the planet
Tenuous existence, we are like flickering candle flames
Soon to burn out as numberless ones before us
But mercifully saved by Death,
Usher To the eternity of Love and Light.

Bob Boyd

People are dying all around me
At work, in my neighborhood, and in the news
Old, middle-aged, young, and babies too.
It’s like the Reaper has been loosened
In my semi-immediate vicinity
Killing people with a dogged impunity.
Worries me about my own mortality
If I’m next on Grim’s hit list
Or in some invisible warzone
With unseeable stealth bombs
Leaving no booms or residues
Quietly taken hordes of people out.
Maybe it’s just the usual suspect
Beelzebub up to his usual MO
Doing his cloven hoofed Devil’s work.

Bob Boyd

Sometimes
I wonder about
romantic love.
Is it real or
Nature’s ploy
to propagate
our species.
If that is
the case
what’s the point
of all of it?
Why the endless
streams of
humans flowing
In and out of
existence?
Maybe it’s
merely a
game of
bored gods
With little
better to do.

Bob Boyd

Amazingly nimble in trees
and on telephone lines.

Dangerously awkward on streets
and at dodging cars.

Squirrel, aerial acrobat,
what’s wrong with you?

In the trees and on telephone lines
none are your equal.

Yet in the streets and in front of cars
you fall apart.

Given you dodge predators in
the air and on the ground.

One would think streets and cars
would be cakewalks by comparison.

Yet thousands of your species
end as roadkill every day.

Maybe the panic I’d feel
seeing a 72 foot brontosaurus

Is the same panic you feel
when you see a giant car.

And you freak out and die
under those killer tires.

Bob Boyd

Clarence said he understood
the language of chirping cicadas
and could read the minds of ants.
He said he knew what birds were thinking
and could predict their futures as they flew.
See that sparrow flying overhead, he said.
in a week it will be in the stomach of a hawk.
I almost believed him, as confident as he was
until he said he knew what my dog Bo was thinking,
could easily read his every dumb dog thought.
Curious and a little offended by his insulting Bo,
I said, what the hell is my dumb dog thinking?
He’s blown away by how well I can read his mind.
You know how dogs can hear things we can’t?
Dogs can know when a psychic reads their minds.
Bo looked at Clarence and let out a howl
as if in agreement with what Clarence said.
Then Bo growled and jumped up curved sideways
suspended in the air like a professional athlete
and with a spectacular airborne twisting move
bit that soothsaying Clarence on the butt.
Bo never did like BS artists.

Bob Boyd

Hewn into rock hills in Lalibela
sacred second Jerusalem
stands in Ethiopia.

Place of pilgrimage
sacred site where
pilgrims come to pray.

For over a thousand years
infused with the prayers
of millions.

A giant etched cross
adorns the top sealed
with a promise of heaven.

Stone shrine conferring
blessings, the magnificent
Church of Saint George.

Bob Boyd

Ancient Greeks died
buried with coins
under their tongues,
their safe passage
to the underworld
where Charon,
bearded Ferryman
dressed in a tunic
and conical hat,
ferried the dead
across a river to
Hades, land of the dead
The obol coin, the
cost of admission.

Bob Boyd

In 1984, Satan possessed a toaster.
The story spread fast like a speeding roller coaster.
On one piece of burnt toast, the Devil wrote Satan Lives.
The nerve of Beelzebub; it makes you wonder what gives.
It was even claimed that through the toaster Satan spoke
As for me, I think it was just a devilish joke.

Bob Boyd

In Lake Champlain Vermont
lives an elusive sea monster
named Champ first seen
in 1609 and 299 times
after that reputedly.

Like many cryptids Champ
is a champion at hiding;
Many alleged sightings
But no proof.

Wouldn’t it be amazing
if one day Champ made his
debut and wowed the world
as a throwback to
prehistoric times.

And since no mate
has been seen
Champ must be
centuries old with an
anti-aging formula
as yet unknown.

I’d like it if Champ
came out of the lake
and declared his
authenticity to the world.

But somehow I suspect
from watching many
monster movies
that day would be
a bad day For Champ.

So I can understand him
staying out of the media
glare, being reclusive.
Because I’m reclusive too
and wouldn’t want all that
annoying paparazzi attention.

Bob Boyd

On my back I felt a soft tap

I turned around and saw cute you
I was six I think you were too
I remember your red hair
So pretty in the summer air

You smiled at me and ran away
But I never forgot that day
In over seventy long years
Though happy times and times of tears

If only I had talked to you
Under that summer sky so blue
It could have led to something new
And maybe true love as we grew

But alas the moment went by
I write that with a forlorn sigh
Maybe in the life beyond this
Older, true love we will not miss.

Bob Boyd

Mongolian Death Worm King of Worms
Hidden in the Gopi sands unfindable
Humble and possessing great wisdom
You seek not the fame you could have.
You know it’s a fickle fading light
You know if you made a world debut
Like King Kong, they’d cage and debase you
Like King Kong, they’d exhibit and destroy you
Because you are so different, so wondrous
And so uniquely beautiful.
Hail Mongolian Death Worm
King of Worms!

Bob Boyd

Inhabits the Mogollon Rim, Arizona
7 to 10 feet tall
hair all over its body
footprints 22 inches long
has godawful body oder
the scent is sickening
like dead fish and skunk
and raw sewage
mimics birds and animal
sounds
makes terrifying and loud
screams
throws rocks and sticks
at people
harasses campers
at night
who is this monster?
it’s the Mogollon Monster,
maybe Bigfoot or a
similar species
is it real or imaginary?
I don’t know, but I’m
not about to find out.

Bob Boyd

I met a wolf once
somewhere in Vermont
face to face
eyes to eyes
his eyes were luminous
and spoke of the wild
but there was also
sadness in his eyes
because he was
held captive in a cage
by a Native American
who had a permit to
keep a wolf encaged.

Bob Boyd

Because Grim knows I’m good with dying
he keeps avoiding me
but gives me close calls to try to torment me
hey, Grim, here’s what you don’t seem to know
torment me all you want with close calls
they don’t bother me at all
the me that is beyond the body
the me that is beyond the mind
the pure consciousness that I really am.

Bob Boyd

ASMR, Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response
is popular on YouTube today
mostly by soft speaking or whispering women
it makes you so incredibly relaxed,
listening to these skilled ASMRists
so relaxed it’s like a state of consciousness
you might want to stay in forever
I’m 80 now, and I’ve often been ASMR’d
I like it now and then, like a vacation for my mind
like a respite from the stressors of living
I was first ASMR’d at age 6, not by intention
a shoe salesmen helping me with shoes
had a voice so soothing that listening to him
I got profoundly relaxed, and like a delicious
daydream I was entranced by his words
and got deeper and deeper relaxed
many decades later when ASMR debuted on
YouTube it brought back that memory
and the incredible state of relaxation.

Bob Boyd