You left me on a half moon night
Appropriate given your half truths
You said we’d be together forever
Forever in your world must have
Equaled a mere unlucky seven years
No wonder we didn’t get a fuller moon
And had to settle for the half slice
If I had been a full mooned werewolf then
I wouldn’t have hunt you down and killed you
Even in beastial state I couldn’t have done it
As if the moon became halved and
Took the hate and the fury out of me
And by the next half moon, so bright
I was irrevocably over you

Bob Boyd

Lying in bed sensing the end
Life ebbing out of me,
Body already like a corpse,
Breathing deep and shallow
Then Fast and slow.
I become less aware of me,
Conscious and unconscious.
Saliva building up in the back of my throat,
I feel the beginning of the rattling coming.
White light flashes in my mind
Angels coming? No way for unworthy me.
Angels fly far away, gone.
No eternal redemption for me?
Can’t barely hear my heart beating,
Becoming deathly faint.
Struggling for breath,
Drowning in death.
As if suddenly suicidal,
I succumb:
10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1
LIGHTS OUT.

Bob Boyd

I saw her in the grocery store in my perceptive, peripheral vision.
She was taking a long hungry look at me, which I liked.

When she looked away, I took more than a cursory look, sensed a possible thing.
Slightly past middle age, pretty in a blue dress, golden locks, a shade of gray.

Pushed my grocery store cart a respectful distance behind her, eyeballing her.
She began to morph into a Venus in front me, a goddess, a grocery store lights dream.

I spied a smiling Cupid lurking in the flower section drawing back his bow.
I thought maybe the gods of love have brought Venus to me, true love at last.

My Venus poked through the vegetables, tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, rutabagas.
It was all so grand until she got to the onions and put two bags full into her cart.

Cupid frowned, fluttered his wings, put away his bow, and flew out of the flowers and away.
The horrid taste of onions assaulted my taste buds and me and Venus were through.

Bob Boyd

She wanted the better life, and she had the looks
She moved to New York City where the action was
Her stunning looks landed her model jobs at just 18
She strutted down runways in London, Paris and Milan
But she jumped off a tall building to her death a year later
Tired of the drugs, the starving to stay skinny, the travel
And the men that used her and sucked the life out of her 18 years

Bob Boyd

Rabbit, Rabbit how adaptive you are
You live in the city yet you still survive
And you know where to find food
And you know where to hide
At least in this city, no one’s hunting you
Except maybe a rare hawk flying by
Or dogs and maybe cats, but I don’t know
When you see me, you scramble away
Not knowing I mean you no harm
And admire you for how you survive
But if I had the time, maybe I could tame you
And we could be friends

Bob Boyd

She was blessed with unsurpassed beauty
And an unmatched perfect body
She had hundreds of men wanting her
And basked in all the attention
She married three rich ones
That were divorced or dead
And all gone by the time
She turned seventy and
Unkind men called her a crone
Her beauty, her body, and
All the attention and men gone
She died alone a few years later
An unbiased unimpressed dementia
Erased the memories and her life,
The advantages and her glamorous
Life of no significance, gone forever

Bob Boyd

They arose like a dark blood plague
Thought to be only dark arts of fiction
The authorities didn’t act fast enough
In the quiet town of Huntsville
When as if Dracula manifested out of fiction
And the population began to become infected
Pastor Barnes, deceased holy soul
Was first to rise from the grave and
Sink his fangs into Molly Tilton
A school girl of only twelve years
Who returned the ghoulish disfavor
To Pastor Barnes bereaved wife
From there the entire congregation
Became a defiled church of cursed vampires
Seeking innocent prey in the town every night
Until Huntsville became known as Helltown
And the vampire outbreaks began to spread beyond Helltown
Like a plague, spreading further and further to this unhallowed day

Bob Boyd

Thousands of years after the seedings
We harvested only bitter weeds
The human seeds we so tenderly planted
Never matured as we intended
Only a few showed potential but not enough
Unacceptable behaviors rampant in the garden
Evil flourished, murders and wars raged
Seeds that showed possible promise
Established religions to encourage good behaviors
But never quelled the human crops failings
Time to admit defeat and abandon the experiment
Or start again with new seedings

Bob Boyd

My spirit dwells in heaven’s hell.
You ask how can a hell be in heaven.
I will answer your inquiry with my story.
I had led a criminal life but found God
After two years of living in a prison cell.
My conversion was not out of love
But out of the fear of going to hell.
Though I believed, I played a game
Of hide and seek from Satan’s domain.
Since I failed to rightly hit the mark,
God sent me to heaven’s temporary hell
With a lukewarm boring preacher
Whose empty babblings torment me
While I work to gain God’s favor
Seeking him for the right reason.
And with time and religious fervor,
I’ll be released from this heaven’s hell,
A true believer and with God I’ll dwell.

Bob Boyd

Fickle mistress
few can woo
those who
succeed
at first elated
after sated
thrill abated
game won
quest done
with time
fame is
empty

Bob Boyd