Category: Poems

Beautiful, blonde, captivating eyes,
winsome smile, magnetic personality,
perfect figure

some said she should
be a movie star

others told her she
could be a fashion model

she had the right stuff
for either glamorous profession

an agent for a famous
modelling agency once
offered her an opportunity
to be a fashion model

though flattered
she turned down the offer

she became a social worker
more interested in
giving than in glamour.

Bob Boyd

He dreamed he saw heartbreaks all over the world
rising up to heaven spirit-like, bleeding
and shaped like cotton candy

he saw countless angel-like beings catching the
heartbreaks as they reached heaven

they were repairing the broken hearts

he saw most of the repairs were successful
but some were not

and tears fell from the angel-like beings for those
whose hearts they couldn’t repair

somehow he knew those were the hearts of
the brokenhearted who were going to kill themselves

he hoped there were angel-like beings to heal
them when they left this life

he woke up from the dream feeling better than
he had for months

and he knew his broken heart had been mended.

Bob Boyd

It was so long ago I don’t
remember exactly how
I met her

I think it was on a dating
website

I was in my forties
as was she

raven black hair
pretty brown eyes
voluptuous body

she had invited me
to her house

we chatted about
spiritual topics

she told me about
a guru I once studied under
who had chased her
around a table trying
to grope her

I wasn’t surprised by her
sordid revelation about
the guru

many gurus were
more like sexual predators
than holy men
despite their spiritual powers
their advanced spiritual states

unfortunately the meeting
wasn’t going to turn
into a future date

maybe it was my imagination
but I sensed a disturbing
darkness in her

and her house had
a gloomy feel to it

despite her attractiveness
and a spiritual compatibility

I left her house relieved
to be freed from the
possessing darkness
and the ubiquitous gloom.

Bob Boyd

I once heard somebody say
you are dying from the day
you are born

dreadful thought
but decidedly true
the timer starts ticking

when you draw your
fist breath

it’s tragic
and sad
how some die

not long
after they’re born

maybe they have
an edge

no need to go through
any of the risks of
living longer

maybe they go to
a better, happier
place far sooner

a paradise
devoid of the
suffering
the evil
in this temporary
life

perhaps I’m being
overly hopeful
maybe a little
delusional

but that’s
my heartfelt
hope for them.

Bob Boyd

He went to war, his spirits high
his patriotism beating like a drum
weaned on the exhilarating highs
and the heroics of war movies
he marched into battle jubilant
bullets flew, cannons blasted
soldiers dead and dying
a carnival of carnage erupted
the ground soaked with blood
body parts strew all over it
horrors he never expected
the movies had lied to him
war was hell, not cinematic
when the long war ended
both his legs amputated
his mind screwed up and
shell shocked terminally
tried to put his life together
couldn’t do it and tragically
he ended in the streets
homeless shell shocked
and chronically broken.

Bob Boyd

He brought her flowers
she said no thank you,
a superficial gesture

he gave her expensive
chocolates
she said please
you can’t bribe me
with sugar
and fancy candy

he sent her a Hallmark
card oozing with
perfume and
flowery words
she said paper
and scents
just won’t do

he said damn it
what do I have
to do to win
your love?

She said all I want
is your heart and
nothing more.

Bob Boyd

Flowers are shivering
and shrinking

soon they’ll be dying

the chill of Fall is
starting to
slaughter them

though they can feel
their end is nearing

undaunted, they know
they’ll rise up again

in their radiant
spring personas

when the Spring’s
warming sun
melts the cold

and warms them
back to life again.

Bob Boyd

I begin watching a YouTube Short
I see a young couple beginning
to dance to an old Chubby Checker
song The Twist

as the dance begins, the attractive
woman with beautiful eyes
is looking into the man’s eyes
in a way that’s predatory
but in a predatory way
that any man who lives and breathes
would gladly fall prey to

I’m remembering the power
in a woman’s eyes when she
deigns to look at you with interest
and how that single look
can melt even a strong man’s heart

and render him almost senseless
lost in the mesmerizing power of those eyes
and, oh, how I’d love to feel that power again.

Bob Boyd

Lying in bed remembering
the warm comfort of a woman
lying next to me

an emotional and
physical comfort
a balm for the body
the mind and the soul

I’m thinking it would be nice
to feel that warm comfort again

I imagine I never will
except in occasional thoughts
and summoned memories

then I remember how
the warm comfort
can become
a cold discomfort

how the sweetness
can turn sour

the relationship doomed
with no rewinding it

and I banish those
warm remembrance
from my wary mind

taking comfort in
my peaceful life
devoid of heartaches
disappointments
and miseries.

Bob Boyd

The crazies seem to be multiplying
I see them acting out in videos
I see them screaming in streets
Imagine if aliens ever sprayed
our skies with an invisible spray
that made us all chronically crazy
acting out and melting down
like the multiplying crazies
except every minute of every day
imagine those with access to
the nukes all over the world
gone as crazy as the rest of us
BOOM … BOOM … BOOM ….

Bob Boyd

Cars, trucks, buses stream by
in the falling rain pitter patter, pitter patter
on the sidewalk and on the street
the rainy sound of tires rolling on the wet pavement

I see a man wearing a gray raincoat with a hood
he’s walking a black, doberman dog on the sidewalk

a man appears on a motorbike weaving in the crowd
a row of people approaches all with black umbrellas
another man appears walking with a purple shopping bag
I wonder what he bought in that purple shopping bag

I can faintly hear the walking people talking and laughing
the entire scene is no different from here in America
I think about how people everywhere are usually alike
wanting peace and happiness in their quiet lives

I pray we never have a war with Russia
and blow to bits people just like us
and get blown to bits by them as well

it all seems so primitive and unnecessary
and what a shame to destroy countless lives
over wars that should have never happened.

Bob Boyd

Never tried skydiving
preferred to play it safe
many do it for years
without incident

some, even experts,
fall to their deaths
from terrifying heights

imagine the horror
of knowing death was
waiting for you
on the hard ground

as you screamed
your lungs out
on the way down

never been one to
throw the dice
gambling on living
and dying

knew just by living
you were throwing the dice
and that was more than
risky enough for me.

Bob Boyd

I’ve often read of sages and holy men
living secluded away from the world

holed up in hidden caves
existing on wild edibles in forests

I suspect some find what they seek in solitude
enlightenment, cosmic consciousness, nirvana

But I suspect others are driven mad
the lack of human contact
the self imposed solitary
the psychological perils of isolation

they are like men walking on tightropes
between worldly and otherworldly structures
some make it across the tightropes
finding enlightenment, cosmic consciousness, nirvana
others fall into an abyss of madness.

Bob Boyd

Too many people go missing
hiking just by themselves
sadly some are found dead
sadly some are never found
the forests hold many secrets
the fates of so many missing
the tragedies of so many dead
I believe if the trees could tell
the stories of all these people
the willows would weep for them.

Bob Boyd

I’m at my computer remembering when back in the
long gone, free love, Haight-Ashbury highs sixties
some adventurous free spirited women
were called hippy chicks
I’m also wondering how women ever got
called hen’s babies
that aside, I’m thinking an ex hippy chick
would probably be a good match for me
we could talk about peace and love, Hendrix,
Woodstock, India, Ram Das, getting high on mantras
cosmic consciousness and Meher Baba
we could have our own two person commune
and talk about how groovy, heavy and far out
our new age resurrected Age of Aquarius lives were
she’d wear paisley dresses with flowers in her hair
I’d let my freak flag fly evermore
we wouldn’t need LSD and psychedelic trips
or getting ten feet tall like Alice
groovin’ together, spacing out
on our stars aligned soulmate love
would be all we’d need ever and forever.

Bob Boyd