Full of unbounded energy
Bursting with eternal youth
Blessed with all the right stuff
Nothing can stop him
He’s a winner all the way
He can achieve anything
He’s the Lord of his universe
Working part time as a waiter
Until he achieves his dream
As the greatest actor ever
And he knows he will
He knows a Hollywood agent
Will clearly recognize his
Greatest of all acting talent
Discover him and sign him
For a million dollar contract
And he’ll own Hollywood
And grace the movies
Like no actor ever has

Bob Boyd

Medieval music playing in the background
Of his unkempt one bedroom apartment.
The music taking him back in his imagination
To times of knights, ladies and dragons.
He imagines saving a princess from a dragon
In a poorly fortified, ancient castle.
Right before he vanquishes the dragon,
He wakes from the Medieval reverie
Knowing he’s just been like a
Don Quixote fighting windmills
In his overly imaginative mind.

Bob Boyd

He started lucid dreaming.
To try to meet the woman of his dreams
In a lucid romantic dream.
After months of trying,
He finally met his dreamt up match,
Blonde and ethereally beautiful
Perfect in all ways for him.
He flirted with her in dreams
For three wonderful months.
He fell in love with her
And her with him.
But when they consummated,
She turned into a terrifying demon
And stole his mortal soul,
And burned his body to death.
When the police found his burned remains
They reported his death
As a case of spontaneous combustion.

Bob Boyd

He hated clowns and didn’t trust them.
Hiding behind ridiculous costumes
And weirdly painted faces
They looked sinister
And untrustworthy to him.
He felt his belief was validated
When one turned out to be a serial killer
With the first name of a great American actor,
That was an injustice to that actor’s famous name.
John Wayne was the clown’s first name. Gacy his last.
A clown at children’s parties. A serial killer
Who killed at least 33 men and children.

Bob Boyd

He thought she was like a saint
After he saw her playing saintly parts
In many great movies.

But when he saw her on two talk shows
And she was drunk and mean
He couldn’t believe how she acted.

He learned a lesson about how
Actor’s personas on silver screens
Are often counterfeit representations
Of less than perfect people.

Bob Boyd

Her days and nights pass faster
She grows older and older
Her body’s breaking down
The ravages of aging
She sees more doctors
Than ever in her life
And she’s tired of all of it

She misses the good health
And good times of her youth
But those days are gone forever
So she takes her ten medications
And deals with her inevitable
Death with a smile and a sigh
Turns out her bedroom lights
And escapes it all in sleep

Bob Boyd

I’ve heard love is the most powerful force in the universe.
It doesn’t seem to be so in this troubled world.
Hate and evil seem so prevalent, and love doesn’t
Appear to have any power over hate and evil.
Wars rage on. Murders and rapes keep happening.
Which poses the questions, where’s the love in that,
And if love is so powerful
Why can’t it stop these heinous acts?
If love is the most powerful force in the universe,
I think it is in the greater unseen scheme of things.
But I just don’t see it in the relative world.

Bob Boyd

She was shy when sober, crazy when drunk,
Lost all her restrained inhibitions.
Took off all her clothes in a bar once.
Danced butt naked downing a beer.
Burly bouncers threw her ass out.
Showed her wares at a crowded beach.
Angry parents chased her off the beach.
Interrupted a church service once
Singing a song called Personal Jesus.
The parishioners drove her out
With the blood of Jesus prayers.
Slept with shitloads of faceless guys
On many drunken, regrettable nights.
Often woke up ashamed of herself.
Got drunk again to block out the shame.
And once again transformed herself,
Like a reanimated full-mooned she wolf,
And unleashed her unabashed self.

Bob Boyd

She loved picking flowers
That grew outside her house
Unaware that the flowers
Had feelings and hurt
When they were pulled
Out of their earth habitats

She severed their stems
And stuffed them in vases
Where they faded and died
Premature isolated deaths
And were tossed away
With the rest of the trash

Bob Boyd

The sun comes up
The early birds awake
And bask in morning light
The night owls go to sleep
And dream kaleidoscope dreams
The bursting sun glistens
Upon the calm waters
The world begins to yawn
Creation awakes
Another day breaks

Bob Boyd