When he stopped at a tavern for a meal
and to ask how to get to a certain location,

heads in the tavern snapped in his direction,
jaws fell open, horror lit up faces, people
made the sign of the cross on their bodies.

Just two words were the cause of all that
frenzied commotion: Count Dracula.

Bob Boyd

If a woman you love says to you, “Don’t go there. I feel something
bad will happen.”

Heed her advice, even if you feel she is wrong.

Let me extrapolate.

Ever hear of a woman’s intuition? Maybe she’s right. After all,
it’s 50/50 she might be.

But even if she were wrong, by taking her advice and not
going, you affirm her and show you trust her implicitly.

You demonstrate to her that she has significant value to you,
and that can make her value you more.

Besides, her foreboding feeling just might save your life.

Bob Boyd

Among many things, Schopenhauer believed romantic love
is only for procreation.

Though I’m a romantic, I’ve been thinking the same thing
for some time now.

I’ve been thinking as with insects, fish, and animals
it’s basically all the same: procreation and nothing more.

To advance the species, and despite all the human
heart felt, romantic feelings, it’s just biological.

You may believe romantic love is for more than that,
and I hope you are right.

And I hope that romantic love continues in the afterlife
where it would be about far more than procreation.

Bob Boyd

According to people who have been temporarily dead,
when you die you see a life review, the good and
not so good things you did in your life.

And supposedly it’s not judgemental or punitive,
but, to me, seeing some of the not so good things
could be painful or even shameful.

The purpose, it is said, is all about your spiritual
growth. Maybe you gain knowledge about how to
act better from the life review.

What I haven’t heard is what happens after the
review; that is, where do you go when you
are permanently dead.

Of course, there are many beliefs and theories,
and different religions have different beliefs, but
no matter the claims, nobody really knows for sure.

And maybe dead is just dead and nothing more,
as skeptics believe and science supports. But
I don’t believe that.

I believe death is the awakening of a lifetime.

Bob Boyd

There is a red light district in Thailand
with hundreds of women lining the street
more than I’ve ever seen in one place
and the street is lit up like a Christmas tree
men walking down that street see all the
women as exotic treats, but the women
see the men, mostly foreign, as pay days
to me it all seems so pointless, and were
I in Thailand, I’d rather visit Buddhist temples

Bob Boyd

When he grew old
everything got harder

a grunt when bending over
to pick something up

putting on pants
the balance not there

getting up from an armless chair
barely enough leg strength

the floor like an enemy
keeps him pinned there

as he struggles to get up
grabbing onto a chair

unexpected hospital stays
and doctor appointments

doctors he never saw in his youth
almost constant companions now

some medical conditions
he never thought he’d have

more body fat and muscle loss
increasingly weaker

aging turning him into a caricature
of his once youthful, robust self

but at least he’s ready to die
and he no longer fears death

and he feels lucky
to have lived such a long life

Bob Boyd

At Saint Joseph’s Oratory in Montreal, Canada,
Brother André, a Canadian saint, is entombed.

A humble doorkeeper, a brother and not a priest,
least likely to be used by God, perhaps—
the last being first—became a miracle worker,
healing ailing supplicants from all over the world
through the power of his supercharged prayers and
unceasing devotion to Saint Joseph.

He never took credit for healing 10,000 or more;
so humble, so devout, so saintly was he.

When he died, a million people streamed past his coffin
in reverence to this humble, God-blessed healing saint.
His mortal remains lie in a coffin at the back of the oratory
in a sacred room, a powerful shrine where crutches
of many healed pilgrims adorn the walls.

If you go there, do not be surprised if you feel
a palpable saintly energy that will renew you and
replenish your faith. This I write from experience.

Bob Boyd

Li Po, where did you go?
did you become one with the Tao,
or are you in some celestial, jade heaven
where dragons frolic, orioles still sing,
and beautiful maidens play the guzheng?

in case this poem somehow reaches you
through the ether, I’m a fan of your work
and would like to meet you in the afterlife

maybe you could be my mentor there,
if you were so inclined or had the time
and teach me how to write great poems
like you do –

or, at least, give me some tips
on writing better poems
in the afterlife

and, as for writing poems,
I hope wherever you are,
that is something you still do

respectfully,

a fan in the world
of the temporarily living.

Bob Boyd

In the 15th century in a nunnery in Germany
a nun began biting other nuns.

Soon all the nuns in the nunnery began
biting each other.

This biting outbreak spread to other
nunneries as well,

reaching as far as nunneries in Italy
and Holland.

Some thought the biting epidemic was
caused by demons or the devil.

Priests said prayers and performed exorcisms
as possible cures,

but these measures proved ineffective; the
nuns kept biting each other

The biting contagion stopped when authorities
threatened to flog the biting nuns.

It has been determined the nuns suffered
mass hysteria,

and no demons or a devil caused the
psychogenic affliction.

Bob Boyd

How I hate class distinctions
one class superior to the other

snobbery and disdain
for the lower classes

arrogance and exaggerated
self importance
typical of the upper classes

the titled and privileged at the top
serfs and peasants at the bottom

what puzzles me most
is why are some born into
higher classes and why are
some born into the lower classes

I wish there were universal equality

Bob Boyd