Category: Poems

Murderers, rapists and pedophiles, why do we have to have them in this world?
Why do all their innocent victims have to be subjected to such twisted horrors?
If God is love, where is the love in that?
And why is it even permitted in this world?
I can in no way fathom the purpose in that for anything Divine
Or any purpose for such infamy existing that harms so many innocents.
If I believed in a Satan that lures people into such heinous acts,
Then I could see the cause and effect and maybe understand it.
But even then, why would some have to be turned into monsters?
And why are some people born into this life as psychopaths?
You could say it is all about free will; people have a choice.
But what choice does a being have who is born a psychopath?

Bob Boyd

I remember you at 16,
When I was 16 too
And had a crush on you.
Beautiful face and body,
Richly blessed by nature.
By 18 you got overweight
And lost your perfect body,
And some of your looks.
How could that have
Happened to you?

Bob Boyd

He told me he’d astral traveled
He encourage me to try it too
I told him about the warnings I’d heard
People lost in the astral planes
Evil entities entering their bodies
When they were out of them
Or traveling into demonic realms
He derided my foolishness
Said it was all nonsense
Last time I saw him
His face frozen in horror
And nobody home

Bob Boyd

A 37 year old single woman rejects 5,000 applicants
Submitted to her by 5,000 enamored men
Who succumbed to her foolish list of questions.
To all those 5,000 men lured to take her test,
You’re better off without a woman so insanely picky.
She’d be the same and worse if you were with her.
You’d never be good enough for her inflated ego,
And she’d be quick to point out your imagined faults.
And she’d dump you within a wretched year,
And guaranteed, she’d have more faults than you.

Bob Boyd

Her incomparable love brought light into his life
And saved him from the empty, lovelorn darkness
That had made him feel so unloved and so invisible.
But fate stole his love the day she died of cancer.
Now he lives In the shadows of a disappeared love.

Bob Boyd

Fool that he was he left a great job
Retirement and substantial benefits
A romantic he left it for true love
Could always find another job
Rarely had he found true love
Moved far away to another state
Vermont to sunny North Carolina
To be with his beautiful true love
A year later she stole from him
And came on to another guy
So much for true love and
A foolish, love blind romantic

Bob Boyd

Jed loved to fish after dark on cool nights
when the big bass and the eels came out.
He’d cast his line far out with a sinker
that sent the bait to the bottom of the lake.
While waiting for a bass or an eel to bite
He’d sit in his rowboat hoping to hook
A big bass rumored to be a giant fish.
He’d heard the legends about how it,
Never failed to get away when hooked.
Usually it broke the line, big as it was.
In a way, Jed almost caught that bass,
Or I should write it caught him
When it emerged from the lake
And more of a giant bass then expected,
It swallowed Jed and his entire row boat.

Bob Boyd

Fifty and five years, his life a mess.
Never thought he’d end up like this,
Incarcerated for a crime he didn’t do.
Sure he was wild but not like this.
Now he spends his days confined
Telling everyone he’s innocent.
No one believes him. No one cares.
They’re sure he killed that young kid.
Now three inmates have a plan.
And soon he’ll be knifed to death
To avenge the murder of that kid.
Justice served and deserved.
And the real killer killed another kid.

Bob Boyd

What is it with this romanticism?
Will it follow me to the grave?
Will I be afflicted with it in the afterlife?
I’m well past the procreative years.
Why does this romanticism linger?
Is it imprinted in the soul forever,
Or stamped on my DNA to never go away?
It is said in death one has no voice box
And surely no reproductive organs,
But I think one has a spiritual heart.
Is that where romanticism starts
And remains eternally in some?
But not in womanless sages
Who might transcend the need,
Who might not have the imprint,
Who might be rare anomalies
Unlike terminally romantic me.

Bob Boyd

At any given moment your life can be thrown in chaos.
Something as random as a falling tree in a park,
Or rocks hurled off a bridge by juvenile delinquents.
In New York a shove into an ongoing subway.
But worse things that these can happen,
An agonizing, prolonged death by a disease
That the pain makes you wish for death.
If you’re kind of lucky, it’s not life threatening,
A breakup, a divorce, the loss of a job.
Nonetheless, this is an unpredictable life.

Bob Boyd

She disappeared ten years ago
Never found, no traces of her,
One of many unsolved cases.
Where do these people go?
Alien abductions, serial killers
Human traffickers, death?
She has been seen in dreams
By me and others, but no clue.
She’s smiling in these dreams,
But just stands and says nothing.
I don’t know what that means.
A psychic said she’s in heaven
I guess I’ll go with that for now.
It’s better than awful speculations.

Bob Boyd

Saw you last night in a delightful dream.
You looked as adorable and petite as ever.
Gave you a book, don’t know why.
Hadn’t been thinking of you.
Were you trying to get my attention?

Bob Boyd

Praying mantis aliens
Insectoids 10 feet tall
Intellectually superior
Some claim it’s true
Imagine if hostiles
Coming for us
With anal probes
And surgical tools
Humans examined
Weaknesses sought
For final solution
To the human problem

Bob Boyd

Robins in the trees and on the ground
Flying on branches, hopping on grass.
Worms surfacing unaware of robin beaks everywhere.
Not unlike human life with Death’s beaks always everywhere.
Worms and humans limited life forms both prey every single day.
More obvious with the unaware worms than with the oblivious humans.

Bob Boyd

Time racing by faster and faster
Getting older and older and older
The years passing at warp speed
Death getting nearer and nearer
Closer and closer way too soon
I can almost see the coffin
Being built for dead me
And feel the grass above me
When I’m lying underground
And the me today is
Gone forever tomorrow

Bob Boyd