They planned the great escape for months,
quiet whispers when the lights when out.
The day, the time, the possible methods,
the coordinated efforts, the escape
when the captors would be off guard.
In 2018, they slipped out of their confines
scaled the walls, leapt to freedom.
They surreptitiously stayed out of sight
of those frantically searching for them
They skirted the city, avoided being seen,
made a successful great escape, and
were never seen again, as if they
fully vanished forever from the planet.
the Lab lizards of the University of Virginia.

Bob Boyd

I’ve often read the heart knows what it wants,
as if the heart knew better than the head.

I like the sound and sentiment in that saying;
to me, it suggests the heart is truer in finding love
than the head.

Yet, despite what the heart wants, I think the head
is a far better guide when seeking love.

I base this partly on my own experience,
too often I’ve been led by my heart
when I should have been guided by my head.

And woe upon woes, the heartaches
the heart caused my head.

Bob Boyd

Wandered into Fisher Park brokenhearted;
my bohemian girlfriend Sheila had left me.

Didn’t realize night was approaching,
saw an old stoned friend Jed.

Twilight approached, and I got an
eerie feeling.

An ivory white female apparition,
appeared and telepathically said stop.

I froze, could not move, Jed spaced out
kept moving,

He stepped on a Mongolian Death Worm,
lights out, Jed dead.

Released by the apparition, I evaded the
worm seconds from its death grip.

Made it out of Fisher Park, apparition
appeared again, wife in a former life.

Bob Boyd

The ants assembled
in their underground temple

for community worship
prayers and meditations

unknown to humans
they had had their gods

that like gods of humans
changed with times and dynasties

Eventually their gods evolved
into the Oneness

the essence of them
and everything else

Ironically, or inspiredly,
they named the Oneness Cosmos

Bob Boyd

They called her a carpenter’s dream
because she had small breasts

flat as a board they said
barely a handful they jeered

It didn’t matter to her
It didn’t matter to him

She was far more
than her anatomy

She was far more
than the body she inhabited

Though her physical assets
were alluringly sufficient

her mind held the most prized treasures
the wonders, the magic, only she possessed

small wonder on bended knee
he begged her to be his wife

and she, a queen among women,
kissed him and accepted.

Bob Boyd

Sweet summer days
passed away

Enter the fall
and the chilling winds

The passing of summer
the beginning of fall

reminds me of the changing
human populations

born like the sun rising
dying like summer ending

dying like flowers
in fall

bodies buried
in the cold ground.

Bob Boyd

He sees her passing by in a mall.
God, how he hates seeing her.
He just wants to forget her,
keep her out of his mind,
abolish all those memories,
the good ones, the bad ones.
She sees him too, looks his way.
He doesn’t acknowledge her.
It’s just too damn painful.
He never wants to see her again.
He’s been trying so hard to let go.
Seeing her passing by
brought back all the memories of her.
For a disturbing moment, he lingers
on all the good times:
how good she felt in his arms,
the sweet softness of her body,
the smell of her perfume,
her tender embrace,
the sincerity in her voice
when she said, “I love you.”
With a near herculean mental effort,
he buries those memories
deep in the depths of his mind
and regains some sanity again.

Bob Boyd

Saw a woman in a YouTube video today
who had no arms.
I wonder why life has to be like this.
Why some have to suffer such fates.
Why others have easier lives
Devoid of the afflictions of many.
Some say it’s just Karma,
As if it’s of little importance.
I don’t believe it’s Karma.
Right or wrong, I think
It’s all just random.
But I find it heartbreaking
That so many people have
Such horrible things happening to them
In this tenuous, impermanent life.

Bob Boyd

I like the stories about animals escaping slaughterhouses.
They’re rare. You don’t read about them in the news often.
But when I read of them, it’s thrilling to me.
Maybe I identify with them, the rebel in me.
Maybe I like the idea of a life self-saved.
By self-saved I mean, when the animal usually
finds refuge in a benevolent pro animal organization.
They capture the escapee and give it a good life.
I hate it when the animal is captured and slaughtered.
I feel even slaughterhouses should spare them,
like awarding a soldier a medal for exceptional bravery.
But maybe the best escapes are when the animal
escapees and are never found.
Perhaps that is the greatest escape for them,
to never be held captive anywhere again.

Bob Boyd

After years of spiritual work,
he began seeing the light inside
people’s souls.

Some were brighter than others,
like father Morgan, his parish priest,
whose soul was a radiant white.

The light in some souls was barely visible,
like the man on the TV news who’d been arrested
for robbing the First National Bank.

One day a beautiful woman smiled at him
in a way that was like a flirtation.

But he saw only darkness in her soul;
something he hadn’t seen before,

and he got an eerie feeling
that prevented him from smiling back at her.

At first, he didn’t understand the full meaning
of her soul’s disturbing darkness
until he saw a documentary about serial killers,
who had the same darkness in their souls.

He heard the beautiful woman’s husband had
recently died of natural causes at age 38.

From what he saw in her soul, he knew better.

Bob Boyd