If you have a bird feeder with seeds a cardinal likes,
if he sees you, he will remember your face
and your voice as well.
He will watch you to make sure you are not a threat,
unlike how he perceives other humans as threatening,
and he might even come to your bird feeder when
you are nearby.
And isn’t it amazing that, for a bird, his intelligence is so high?
Bob Boyd
After he broke up with her,
tired of her crazy behavior,
she slept with his two best
friends to piss him off.
Her vengeance didn’t have
the intended effect.
He lost all respect for her,
got rid of his loser, best friends.
Eventually he found a stable
girlfriend
and a better life; she’ll soon
be his wife.
His ex is with one of his
former friends she slept with.
She torments and fights
with him most nights.
He wants to leave her, but
fears she’ll get revenge with
the gun she bought after
they had one of their fights.
Bob Boyd
After the doctors revived him from being
clinically dead, he was disturbingly different.
His appearance changed from friendly and harmless
to unfriendly and ominous,
as if he spent some time in hell,
and brought a bit of hell back with him.
Whatever the case, shortly after he came
back to the world of the living,
he shot his wife dead and took his own
life as well,
perhaps he was destined to go back to hell.
Bob Boyd
I read people close to dying often see dead people
in dreams,
people they had known in this life when alive.
I believe sometimes dreams are more than dreams,
and these dying people are seeing people in dreams
they will see in the afterlife when they die.
Bob Boyd
She seemed uncommonly nice and admirably modest
until one looked at her Instagram account
chock full of photos of herself, as if she
were self obsessed.
I’ve seen that trend with other women,
instagram pages blown up with photos of themselves.
I don’t understand why they post so many of those photos,
and I don’t think it’s because they’re in love with themselves.
Maybe, like women with applying makeup to their faces
all over the world,
it’s just a natural, female thing.
Bob Boyd
I wonder how many people died
because they felt that
bad things only happen to other people.
I imagine graveyards are full of those people,
but lucky are those who thought that
and never died young or got murdered.
I remember how I was like that when
I was a young man who felt
bad things would never happen to him
until I became an old man and bad things
started happening to me.
Bob Boyd
She told him she was a white witch,
no black magic, no evil spells.
A child of nature, incapable of evil,
only white magic, benevolent spells.
But when he left her for another woman
he lost his hair, and his teeth fell out.
Bob Boyd
If I had the brain of an ant,
I’d have no cares about politics,
corrupt politicians, open borders,
ceaseless crime, the cost of living,
the threat of health problems,
insufferable people, break ups,
divorces, random mass murders,
looming wars, and far more.
Had I the tiny brain of an ant,
I wouldn’t worry about any of that.
Bob Boyd
He learned what he didn’t want
to know about her back in 1982,
his lovely neighbor who sold
her body for money.
She was sweet and nice to
everyone, didn’t seem the type
to engage in selling her body
along with the dangerous risks.
She was murdered in 1983,
a customer who was a serial killer.
Bob Boyd
Once in a while I use to write love poems,
but not with any woman in mind.
I thought I wrote them because it seemed obligatory
to write some love poems as one who writes poetry.
But maybe as a song birds sings songs seeking a mate,
I was writing love poems for the same reason.
Now I don’t write love poems anymore, maybe
because I’m not seeking love anymore.
Bob Boyd