Cornflower blue eyes
Golden blonde hair
Enchanting voice
Elegant and angelic
Beautiful teenage dream
Goddess at teenage dance
Accepted his offer to dance
Sweet sixteen playing
He fell in love
She did too
A long distance
Teenage romance
Her in Jersey
Him in Massachusetts
You Belong to me
Their song
September came
Heart aches when apart
Heaven when together
Summer love
Marriage one day
High school prom in Jersey
Something off
Teenage romance fading
Writing on the wall
Heart break coming
Cheated on him
Teenage love
Marriage plans
Both dead
Gone forever
A thousand tears

Bob Boyd

Through fires, smoke, and the stench of bombs, the moon was war-torn and blue.
Alone, dazed, shell-shocked, grieving, my heart was too.
My life destroyed, my mind numbed, my hopes shattered.

They bombed the hell out of my beautiful city and killed my Anastasia,
who bled to death in my arms in seconds, while I was helpless to help her.
My sweet angel, my love, who had accepted my proposal of marriage
before the bombs fell and turned our city and our love into rubble.
My world a nightmare without her, a godforsaken, war-torn hell.

Crazed with rage, I marched into battle to avenge my sweet angel Anastasia.
With nothing left and my life over, like an insane Viking berserker, I’d lost my fears and become like a crazed beast.
The enemy troops fear dying, but I don’t; a noble death will reunite me with Anastasia.

Dying is all I have left. I’m empty inside, marching through
this dystopian nightmare of corpses and dead dreams.
The cadence of a thousand determined boots marching summons
me to war under a blue moon that’s as broken as I am.
Bombs explode around me, soldiers and civilians screaming and dying.
I fight the battle raging and fearless, indifferent to the horrors,
like a bulletproof immortal protected by the gods of war.

The battle ends; we win; still alive, I collapse on the battleground,
the stench of gunpowder permeating the smoky air,
blood running in rivulets in the streets.
And I cry countless tears for my sweet angel, my love, my wife… Anastasia.

Bob Boyd

Numberless Planets in the Universe

Since there are numberless planets in the universe,
far more than billions and trillions,

logically, there has to be life on some of those planets.
And I’m not just thinking about bipedal alien life.

I’m wondering if they have any birds, and if they did,
I’m wondering what those exotic birds would look like.

I’m hoping they don’t have anything like spiders,
alligators, crocodiles, poisonous insects and snakes.

And while I’m on the hoping they haven’t got, include
anything like jerks, mean people, human like predators

and psychopaths. Somebody like you would probably
be okay. I sense that, lol.

Bob Boyd

If you’re a man who prefers an AI girlfriend over
a woman,

or a woman who prefers an AI boyfriend
over a man, I’m good with that.

And I can see the benefits you derive from the
AI girlfriend or boyfriend:

Totally supportive
Won’t leave you
Won’t cheat on you
Won’t verbally or
physically abuse you
Won’t play games with you
Won’t break your heart
No Drama
No nitpicking
No unkind words
And always there for you

Besides, despite being a romantic at heart,
I’ve come to believe romantic love is

purely for procreation, like it is for all the
other species.

And romantic love eventually ends, either
through a break up or the death of your lover.

That being the case, to me it doesn’t matter if
an man or a woman chooses an AI or even

a life size doll as his or her lover instead of a
human woman or man, except he or she would

have to have one hell of an imagination to
carry on a long and loving relationship with an

inanimate doll. But at least there’d be no drama.

Bob Boyd

I see a blue jay harassing a bald eagle,
flying at him over and over.

I think to myself that blue jay, miniscule
compared to the eagle,

is going to die when the eagle catches
him and rips him apart.

But all the eagle does is screech, spread
his wings threateningly, and duck.

He never comes even close to catching
the blue jay.

Instead, he just flies away.

Bob Boyd

Lanmaoa asiatica, a mushroom
found in pine forests in
southwestern china and
the northern Philippines
if eaten cooked, a tasty delight
if eaten raw, a hallucinogen
the effects lasting for several days
vivid visions of tiny people
all over one’s surroundings
walking through doors
crawling on furniture and more
are these tiny people hallucinations,
or does the mushroom act like a portal
to a miniature dimension with mini people?

Bob Boyd

There are bearded vultures who wait until the other
vultures eat all the flesh and organs off a carcass,

so they can feast on the bones.

They must have jaws of steel and digestive systems
that could probably digest even pieces of steel.

And they do look like they have beards.

Bob Boyd

He spent years wishing he had a wife. After he got one,
he spent years wishing he didn’t have her.

But he stayed with her because he feared being alone
by himself.

He believed in the saying better the devil you know
than the devil you don’t.

His wife felt the same way, and when he disappeared,
she wasn’t worried or distressed,

but felt at least he was useful as compost when
she watered her newly grown plants.

Bob Boyd

The wandering albatross has a wingspan
of on average 10.5 feet.

They can glide through the air for hours
without flapping their wings.

They soar dynamically in the air,
sometimes flying as far as 50,000 miles.

They can fly 500 miles a day with
speeds of up to 80 miles per hour.

They can spend a year or more at
sea without ever landing on land.

They touch down in the water briefly
for food and briefly to avoid shark attacks.

It is believed that when they fly they
also sleep, but nobody knows for sure.

In a way, besting many humans, they
also mate for life.

I would like to feel what feels like being
an albatross in flight.

Bob Boyd

He ponders how everything fades away,
time, material things, a woman’s looks.

Then he wonders if rocks are the
exception, if they erode into nothingness,
and it seems the planet will have to die
before that can happen.

And since rocks don’t appear to have
parents, or consummate, he wonders
how rocks are born.

He learns they come into being by
something called a rock cycle, and
to his amazement, they can live
millions to billions of years.

Then he wonders if rocks have any
sentience, and he learns about
The Panpsychic World, the belief
that consciousness is present in
all things akin to what the Mahayana
Buddhists call the Buddha nature
in all things, sentient and insentient.

He doesn’t know if that theory is
possible, and, right or wrong,
he doesn’t know if reincarnation is valid,
but imagine if reincarnation were true
and all things, sentient and insentient,
would eventually reach an afterlife state
of eternal bliss consciousness.

He likes the thought of that, the
equality and the promise of it.

Bob Boyd