He saw her in a dream
He hadn’t talked to her
In a long long time
He traveled to London
To see her in the dream
They had a nice talk
After he woke up
He realized he never
Knew her
At least not in this life
At least not in this world
Bob Boyd
d
Big birds eat little birds
Big fish eat little fish
I never understood that
To me it’s like cannibalism
Species feeding on their species
You don’t see humans eating humans
Except for rare disgusting exceptions
Far as I know animals don’t eat their own kind
Of course, as with cannibal humans,
There could be macabre exceptions.
And I have to wonder why Nature
Didn’t find another way
Instead of birds eating birds
And fish eating fish
Bob Boyd
He sat in a cave in the Himalayas
Meditating day and night
Transcending into the Absolute
The populations of the world
Never heard of him
The hermit in the cave
The unknown sage
The planet knew him
The cosmos as well
As his meditations
And his emanations
Helped to lift
Seekers of the world
And all the good souls
A little closer to heaven
Bob Boyd
She lives the simple life
No greedy gold digging
No need for fancy things
Never went to college
Doesn’t care about
Being intellectual
Or smashing the
Glass ceiling
Isn’t model beautiful
But she smarter than most
And beautiful enough
Most importantly
She has more heart
And more compassion
Than most of those
Who want more
Or have more
And she’s free
Of inflated
self-importance
And vain vanities
Bob Boyd
I’m hoping reincarnation isn’t real.
Imagine coming back to life during
A nuclear holocaust.
But I like that reincarnation gives
All lifeforms a chance of liberation,
A chance for an eventual heaven-like
Existence beyond annihilation.
Even a singled-celled amoeba can one
Day evolve to human life and onward
To a cosmic consciousness liberation.
Even your dog or your cat or any of your
Pets would eventually evolve into an
Eternal bliss consciousness.
As for me, I’d rather not reincarnate.
I’d rather evolve to higher life in
The afterlife.
Bob Boyd
He swore off women for the umpteenth time.
He became a card carrying member of MGTOW,
Men Going Their Own Way Without Women.
He purposely avoided contact with them.
He tried to never even look at a woman
Until his pretty neighbor Mary Swanton
Called him Sweetie and touched his arm.
And in that seductive, magical moment
With the stars perfectly aligned,
The oath, the MGTOW, the avoidance
And all the intentions and denials
Vanished, and he found love again.
Bob Boyd
I never finished Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment
A bookworm beat me to it and probably got more out of it
Than I ever did.
I think he’s working on Chekhov now. I’ve read Chekhov
But I’ll bet that damn worm is getting more out of Chekhov
Than I did.
I don’t know why he prefers Russian authors. I guess he
Is a little highbrow and has good taste.
Bob Boyd
Birds flying overhead
In the light of the sun
A marvelous sight
Bats flying at night
Under the moonlight
An unsettling sight
Birds stay away
From humans
Some bats bite
Bob Boyd
The young moth was a daredevil
He loved flirting with death
To impress the other moths
Particularly the female ones
One night he daringly dive bombed
An old 1985 Buick on Highway 66
Intending to miss it by a moth’s hair
But lost his thrillseeker focus
When a female moth rustled her wings
Flirting with dashing handsome him
And he became moth splatter
On the old Buick’s windshield
Bob Boyd
He used to love hunting, bagging bears and deers
Every exciting hunting season.
Until he saw some of his kills in a nightmare.
Somehow they had guns and shot him in the chest.
He woke up in a cold sweat relieved it was just a dream
Until he suffered a massive heart attack,
Feeling like he had been shotgunned in the chest,
He barely survived the heart attack and never hunted again.
Bob Boyd