I’ve met many women in dreams.
Ever hear of Marilyn Monroe?
Never met her in a dream, lol.
Always unknown women,
never erotic, sometimes romantic.
Erotic could mean a succubus – egads!
Just as things start to go somewhere
like a caress and a kiss, I wake up,
as if in dreams I’m striking out, lol.

To give an amateur interpretation
Of those women in my dreams,
maybe somewhere in my muted depths
I’m a repressed romantic with
romantic notions sometimes
surfacing in my nightly slumbers.

When I first had a blood cancer,
that was trying it’s damnedest
to take me out, I began having
dreams of women galore
practically every night.
I wondered if they were
angels hovering around me
to guide me into the afterlife,
just in case the cancer
killed me.

After the cancer went into remission,
I rarely had dreams of women.
except an occasional romantic
dream of an alluring one.

Bob Boyd

I wonder if souls become gentler, mellower
in the incomprehensible after life.
Does the transition from bone, flesh,and blood
to bodiless spirit refine one’s character
and ennoble most souls?
Are the less desirable traits erased,
like a character reboot?
Or do we remain the same, character defects
and embodied behaviors?
I like to think we’d be better versions
of what we’d been when earthbound
and closer to the Light.

Bob Boyd

You never heard of Frankenstein’s brother,
the better half of the experimental duo.
He never caused a ruckus.
He never hurt anyone.
He never showed his monstrous
face to the public.
He knew the public would be horrified
by his ungodly appearance.
He knew with pitchforks in hand,
they would kill him.
He studied all the books kept in his
creator’s library.
In nature, he learned he had
an affinity with animals, perhaps they sensed
he was in some ways like them.
When he read the dusty old Bible
in Dr. Frankenstein’s library and
a book about the desert fathers,
he found his path in life, a safe alternative
from, like the animals, being hunted by men.
With instinctive stealth and survival skills,
William spent his life in caves, like the
ancient ascetics seeking mystical union
and living off the the sustenance of the land,
the birds and the beasts of the forest, his companions.

Bob Boyd

The people in the village
felt the ground rumbling
in their homes that night.

Frightened, they sensed the
coming horror, the looming
doom.
The women and children
hid.
The men grabbed
their guns.

Danger reverberated
in the trembling air.
The moon lit up
the advancing hundred strong.

Before the moon bid the
night goodbye,
a thousand villagers
savaged and dead.

Werewolves.

Bob Boyd

He hadn’t seen his ex-wife in years.
Last time he saw her they argued,
and they parted hating each other.
In the dream, she was forgiving
and so was he. He woke up thinking
it seemed like more than a dream.
He felt as if they’d let go off the hate
they had for each other for years.
The next day he learned that
his ex-wife had died that night.

Bob Boyd

Even though I’ve lived for 80 years,
sometimes I feel the desire for a mate.
I would have thought my age would have
obliterated that feeling, that need,
for a female companion in my elderly life.
Despite the many reasons my mind
can find why being with a woman
would be too risky a proposition
with the possibility of a painful outcome,
sometimes my mind reneges and
that desire, that need, resurfaces.
I don’t act upon it. In a way I don’t
care. In a bigger way I see the many
disadvantages and suppress those
unwanted feelings that now
I wish I’d never been born with.

Bob Boyd

Barely knew him in high school.
He was a quiet, nice kid
Met him again years later
After I got out of the Air Force
He had a trendy, hippie look
Long back hair down to his shoulders
Something about his eyes was different
He didn’t look like the seemingly nice kid
Life appeared to have hardened him
As I saw when I looked into his eyes
He said he’d been to jail
I didn’t pry and ask what for
He said he’d be going back again
And he didn’t care
He had such conviction when he said it
That I know he meant it
To this day I cannot understand why
I cannot understand why any person
Would be perfectly okay with
Going back to jail again
Never saw him again after that
Brief and reveal meeting
But sometimes I wonder what
Changed that quiet, nice kid in high school

Bob Boyd

Enjoy your youth
It soon passes
Before you know it
Those youthful days are gone
Before you know it
Your hair begins to gray
Your skin begins to wrinkle
You wake up and realize
Those young days are gone
And never coming back
Despite there was a time
When you felt as if
You’d be young forever
I know I did

Bob Boyd

I like 30s music It hearkens back
to a simpler, more peaceful era without drugs
Everywhere,
Without poor drugged up souls in the streets
Twisting
Without pointless mass shootings
Commonplace
Without people pushed into subways
Routinely
Without people attacked all the time
Randomly
Without bullied children committing suicide
Often
Without children being sexualized in schools
Daily
Without the government treating concerned parents like
Terrorists
I pine for 30s music and simpler more peaceful times and
Normalcy.

Bob Boyd

the worst
day

of

my life

was when
I woke up
next to you

and

you were
dead

Bob Boyd