Canadian Geese

Proud honkers, wings flapping, 
Beaks bobbing, surround us
Delicious crumbs of bread
I decorate the ground with
Ravenous bird mob vying for manna
Chorus of wings beating above me
Air vibrating magically 
More regal Canadian Geese
Landing on makeshift air strip
Bread crumbed ground
Like San Fran International 
Suddenly something surprising
Never happened before
An urgent avian beak 
Tugging at my pant leg
Saying me, me, me
My turn for some bread. 

Bob Boyd

Pat Curran

Sometimes I wonder how Pat Curran is doing now
I wonder if she is still alive or gone to the Great Unknown
She was my sweetheart when we were both sweet sixteen
Blonde and beautiful, she caught my attention at a YMCA Teen Dance
With a single close dance, magical things happened, my heart in flight
I felt romantic love bloom; she did too, in our tender sweet innocence
But, woe, she was from Montclair, New Jersey and I was from Woburn, Mass
At least we had romantically amazing summers together; she stayed with a relative then
A song You Belong To Me was our song; our hearts chimed to it, we lived it
But, oh God, those falls, winters and springs were so unbearably cold without her
Summers were never as warm and exciting and as euphoric for me
Her hugs and her kisses launched my heart into a heaven like place
The sight of her so amazingly beautiful, so perfect in all ways
Made me feel like I’d won the biggest romantic lottery ever
And, guess what? We had vowed to marry when we grew older
A fairy tale happy ever after teenage dream I always had
Finding the right girl in high school and being with her forever
But, woe, then came the final summer when the weather cooled off
And she dropped a bomb on me that blew up my heart and ended our love
She told me she was sorry she was seeing a freshman at Rutgers U.
I bawled my brains out, my heart sank like the Titanic; I didn’t want to live
My dreams dead, my fairy tale romantic notions shattered, nothing mattered
But, hey, who hasn’t lost a love and who, like me, didn’t get over it
Still sometimes I wonder how Pat Curran is doing now.

Bob Boyd

Creating Tulpas with One’s Mind

Supposedly people can create thought
form entities, tulpas, usually in human
form with one’s mind through concentration
and visualization.

Tibetan monks are said to have created
tulpas to rid them of attachments
impeding their spiritual progress, seemingly
kind of like a temporary helper that was
disposed of when the attachment was
dispelled.

Long ago, I read of a black magic magician
creating familiars in the same way, for what
I do not know. I suspect for nefarious
purposes, if real thought form entities can
be created with one’s mind.

Now there are people creating tulpas for
companionship. There’s even a website with
a forum about creating tulpas and other
facets of having one as a friend.

I don’t know if tulpas are real or imaginary,
but people who create them believe they
are sentient.

Maybe they are right. Maybe one can create
a tulpa with the power of one’s mind. I don’t
believe it’s possible, but I could be wrong.

Bob Boyd

Better Things to Do

Some people seem to thrive on
arguments
word duels on x and elsewhere
I’ve no time
no patience for that
besides arguments
usually amount to nothing
disruptive
wastes of time
as for trolls
the saying
don’t feed the trolls
seems wise
better, if able,
shut them down
delete them if
you control the media
you might indulge
in arguments
as for me
I’ve better things to do
and in the grander
scheme of things
they really have
no relevance

Bob Boyd

It’s all so fleeting

seconds
minutes
hours
days
weeks
months
years
lives
everything
all
eventually
gone
forever
sometimes
I feel
I’ve learned
the point of
it all
the TRUTH
from
NDEs
Eastern
Western
philosophies
but
then I
realize
even these
sources
could be
entirely
wrong
as time
and my
time
passes by
and is no
more
it’s all
so fleeting

Bob Boyd

Rockstar Gods

When I was a teenager
I wanted to be a rockstar,
which in retrospect was
a foolish dream for me.

I had no talent for singing
and didn’t have the patience
to learn how to play a
musical instrument.

And unknown to me back
then, I wouldn’t have liked
all the traveling, probably
would have burned out
on it after six months.

And unknown to me back
then, many rockstars have
died young, often from
drug overdoses.

Had I the talent for singing
and the patience to learn
how to play a musical
instrument, I easily could
have been one of them.

Bob Boyd

Seeing Women in Dreams Again

I’ve been seeing women in dreams again
nearly every night.
Saw them like this when I had cancer,
thought maybe they were there
because I was close to death.
Not sure what it means,
but the dreams are nice.
Maybe I’m close to death again
and they are back to guide me
into the afterlife.
I doubt that I’m close to death.
I feel far too good.
But death has a way of
sneaking up on you and
sometimes taking you out
when you least expect it.

Bob Boyd

Never the Right One

He had been with many women,
not as a womanizer just looking
for the right one.

But despite all those women,
he never found the right one
that would bring him the enduring
love he dreamed of beginning in
his teenage years.

He took solace in the fact that
others never found the right one
either, and even if you do find
the right one, it’s destined to
be temporary in this temporary
world.

Bob Boyd

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