Poems With Pictures

He looks at the open closet
where her clothes still hang
the colorful dresses she wore
he sees her perfumes on her dresser
he inhales her sweet scents still there
he remembers their years together
and can’t believe she’s really gone
he recalls the shock of seeing her
lifeless and embalmed in her coffin
he nearly passed out that day
his heart never stops aching
he doesn’t know if he can go on
he wishes he were dead with her
prays to God to take him too
but he remains alive and alone
heartbroken in a sea of tears

Bob Boyd

In the town where he lived
so many people had died

on a back road the townspeople
called The Road of the Dead.

He never drove on that road. Almost
like a premonition, he felt death

awaited him there, and he was
far too young to die. But one

night when he was with his girlfriend,
and both had drank too many beers,

she talked him into driving on
The Road of the Dead, told him

he had to get over his silly superstition.
He agreed and bolstered by the beers,

he gunned his car down that road. But
a mile in his car swerved back and forth

controlled by a powerful, invisible power.
A moment later his car flew into a tree,

knocking him and his girlfriend out. He survied
the crash. She didn’t and became another
tragedy on The Road of the Dead.

He became a tragedy too. Unable to live
with feeling responsible for killing his

girlfriend, he took his father’s hunting
pistol, put it to his head, pulled the trigger,

shot his brain matter all over a wall,
fell to the floor dead.

Bob Boyd

After a three bad relationships with women,
to my astonishment, one day my friend David

introduced me to a life size rag doll he bought
on Etsy that he said was his girlfriend named Wanda.

At first, I thought he was joking. I really did.
But then I saw he was freakin’ serious.

I didn’t make fun of him or judge him, but
I truly thought he had gone a little crazy.

I thought in time he met a nice lady
whose love would heal his broken heart,

and he’d ditch that hideous rag doll Wanda
and become normal again.

That was ten years ago; he’s still with Wanda.
They’re still an item.

Kiddingly, I said to him after all these years,
when are you going to pop the question?

He said I already did and showed me an engagement
ring on a chain around Wanda’s neck.

I know this sounds crazy, but I agreed to be his
best man at his upcoming wedding.

And what the hell. If he can find love
and happiness in a rag doll, why not.

And, Dave, seeing that I’ve been
woman-less for some time , bought me

one of those Etsy rag dolls, Zelda,
but it didn’t work out. She wasn’t my type.

Bob Boyd

Once his heart sang a thousand love songs
for her,
and his love was infinite and eternal
for her.
But that was when he believed in the
fairy tales,
that was when he was her prince
and she was his princess,
that was when he thought his dream
could come true,
and they would live happily
ever after.
But the princess turned the dream
into a nightmare;
she abandoned the prince and the
fairy tale,
and the prince wept a thousand
tears,
and his heart never sang love songs
again.

Bob Boyd

I met him once while picking
up meds.
I liked his musical accent and
his cheerful personality.
I asked him where that accent
was from. “Nigeria,” he said.
“Cool,” I said, “It’s a great accent.”
I saw him tonight, months later,
in the CVS drive-through window.
Kidding around, I said, “Are you
from Nigeria?”
Surprised, not remembering me,
he said, “How did you know?”
“I’m psychic,” I said, smiling.
His eyes lit up, as if he believed me.
Then I said, “I’m just kidding.
I was here months ago, and you
told me you were from Nigeria.”
“Oh yeah, I remember now,”
he said, and we both had
a good laugh.

Bob Boyd

He talks to her every night
but she never answers
or even acknowledges him
his girlfriend of six years
of a deadly colon cancer
she died a year ago
but he cannot let go
he visits her grave
every single week
cries at her tombstone
his heart bleeding with grief
and he doesn’t understand
why she stays dead
and never answers him

Bob Boyd

She’s hooked on alcohol
can’t shake the addiction
she goes to church Sundays
tells God she’s giving up
getting drunk and drinking
back to the bars Monday
back to getting drunk again
Monday to Saturday

so far she’s repeated that
pattern for 30 plus days
church on Sunday
drunk Monday to Saturday

I’m not putting her down
horrible things happened
to Mary in her childhood
deep scars in her soul

because she keeps trying
I’m rooting for Mary
I believe she will become
free of her addiction and
have the happy life she
seeks and deserves
despite the unfortunate
beginning she had

and at least she keeps
trying, doesn’t give up.

Bob Boyd