"boyd" poems
Sometimes, when I go for a drive,
I see myself in the side-view mirror.
And I say:
“Man, who’s that stud in the side-view?”
And other times when I go for a drive,
I see myself in the visor mirror.
And I say:
“Man, who’s that stud in the visor?”
But most times when I go for a drive,
I see myself in the rear-view.
And I say:
“Man, that stud is never going to get anywhere if he keeps living in the past.”
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 11:41 PM UTC
The Creep that loved you
Dani Chase
Jinxxed For Life
βέƦẙḽ Dṏṽ
Ena Alysopriono
Unknown guy
Rex Forté
Jimmydon
Janine
LeeAnn Rose
Musfiq us shaleheen
Elle Tat
maha salman
Concrete Angel
Carolin
wolf spirit aka quinfinn
Death is living
Ally
the helper
patty m
Yung Wifey
Gabrielle Cox
Heart Broken
Kayla-Lyn Searle
Dark Rose
Jason Cirkovic
Midnight Writer
LittleFreeBird
Richard Barnes
Trisha Anne Chi-Young
Thinking Out Loud
AD Mullin
Devon Webb
Hannah Jade
Deborah Brooks Langford
Winter Frost
Jeremy Boyd
Starry Night
caitlyn walters
elsa angelica
Sarah M Gillihan
Sweetheart
Andre nalin
DC raw love
Charbear909
Thomas A Robinson
chainedwhore
PerfectTruths
Worldeater
John-Chris Ward
Ember Evanescent
Kitty Lam
LJ Chaplin
Just Melz
Jae
Just Jean
The Girl Who Loved You
Vanessa Gatley
StayStrongILveU
tamyon lawrence
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 2:09 PM UTC
Incubus Drive
is when me and the neighbours fall out
it's not just the volume
furniture moving bass
but I have to sing
full shout
I know all the words
you see
cos I played it
so many ******* times
it's ingrained on my beer brain
all my inhibitions
blown out
I'm on stage
in front of the microphone
air guitar
I'm no Brandon Boyd
but by Christ I'm on fire tonight
Feb 8, 2022
Feb 8, 2022 at 6:03 PM UTC
My first promise to you is this
I promise I never cared
The reason I stayed was to cure my own
Sadness, that's why I stared
Not out of love or longing
But momentary relief from this suffocating loneliness
My second promise to you,
You were a good placeholder
Someone to bear through my pale conversations
Someone who offered me their body
Which I gladly accepted
The way you taste was a wonderful distraction
From all the things I experience in my head
My third promise, then
I promise you are replaceable
Your contribution to me, was all I needed
And you are nothing more than
A temporary,
that I valued as I value thing day to day items
Good while I need them
Useless when I don't
My fourth promise
You could have been anyone
I loved you, but anyone could have been you
People are like gas, and any gas would have filled
The void within me
You filled me up, took up all my space and time
But I only needed you for a little while
My fifth and final promise,
And I really mean this one
Everything I have just written is a lie
You are everything I have wanted
You are everything I will want
And I'm broken by my own inability to have kept you
So I tell myself I am numb to you
But the truth is
You make me melt
And I don't want to be frozen anymore**
**last two lines from Incubus song "Have You Ever" written by Brandon Boyd
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 2:59 AM UTC
Are You running with me, Jesus?
through the tunnel we call life;
through the many slings and arrows,
of the ugly thing called strife?
Until the race is finished Lord,
we run with great conviction;
being honest with each person,
offering only peace, not friction.
Are You running with me, Jesus?
in this world that says You're dead:
in this world that chooses money,
and just gives You up instead.
They overfeed their bellies.
like their politics and greed;
they're chasing false beliefs,
they know not what they need.
Are You running with me, Jesus?
in the heartache of the night;
in the weary daytime hours,
we must go on with the fight.
Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 11:36 PM UTC
The wall must come down.
I am going to town to free James Brown,
But I will be back and that's a fact.
Mark did you fight at Jericho?
I was there. I was the wall
I swear. With the fingers
For you to look through.
What did you do? Did you spy?
With yon eye? What did you see?
Did she hold me tight?
All through the night?
My mind was elsewhere,
My mind was broken. Am I the token?
And you Mr. Boyd, tell Mr. Floyd
And those **** kids
To leave me alone. Throw me a bone.
The wall must come down.
Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 4:50 PM UTC
THE SWEET CARESS OF ANY HUMAN HEART
Amory Clay and Logan Mountstuart
getting drunk in Boyd's Bar
"To Life!" they say "To Life!"
***
Amory and Logan are of course the main characters in William Boyd's books ANY HUMAN HEART and most recently THE SWEET CARESS. Just goes to show that fictional characters are real people too! We follow their journeys through a life that encompasses the whole sweep of a century and its turbulent histories. They are very much alive in our mind and realer than real thanks to the power and energy of Mr. B's master storytelling.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 9:23 AM UTC
Strange phosphorescence of old,
a tear precipitates your dress
and burns ******
Remote, pristine.
Oh woman, you don’t exist on the branches of the sun!
Defenseless dances, almost pagan,
you burst turmoil in my brains
to drive me through your wild exile.
Asyllable that rules things maternal
on my definite, soft shoulder,
will liberate forever
a distant loss.
Bestow my pupil upon the secret
like fragile columns behind the valley,
it palpitates as it rises;
different such a scarce manner.
Shuddering from sugar and salt
the perishable breaks before me:
far-off minutes, light flesh.
Facing the instant, immutable land,
you determine your wandering as you go
over the light with no memory of the mother manger.
Translated by Martin Boyd
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 6:21 PM UTC
"No matter where you live you should be able to turn on the tap and drink safe water" - David Boyd
Every day I grow
The importance of the preservation of our enviroment becomes more and more predominant.
To grow up drinking from discovered gurgling creeks,
To feel the cool purity revitalize my young soul,
To bask in the clean beauty of our waters,
I took for granted its safety.
To grow up with the river as my guide, my mentor, my reflector for my inner growth
I learned to listen to the way it laughed and danced
And polished unassuming river stones as it told me of past stories
and taught me humility.
All this time
I took for granted its safety.
It is only now
As my cacoon of security begins to crack
do I realize
This is not every humans relationship to our waters.
Only now do I realize I am blessed to be able to drink from discovered streams, let alone my tap without a second thought
Only now do I realize
Millions of parched souls
have grown with water as an enemy
Wary of the pollutants it carries.
It is treated with caution
Whereas it was once revered.
Water, as a definition is "the basis of the fluids of living organisms"
We are essentially poisening ourselves as well as our earth
with our actions.
It is time to shift as a country, as a nation
To protect our enviroment
to protect our waters
and to protect humanity its self
The right to a healthy enviroment
Is the right to live.
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 12:29 AM UTC
I would like to do a great many things:
play guitar like Isaac
find my voice to be comparable to Boyd's
write admiring Bukowski, though never plummeting as low
love the woman who has never been loved correctly
express myself in my own way on bass
and make myself out of the parts that I choose.
and if for some reason another person enjoys these things, that's just something else to be proud of.
Jun 1, 2010
Jun 1, 2010 at 9:03 PM UTC
by Dawn Richardson and Tiffany Ann Boyd
Assembled from works by J.M. Romig, Sheena Zilla, and Ryan P. Kinney
My first memory is of dying.
I felt like I’d lived a full life
And now I was gladly fading away.
My first last words were
“Tell Elizabeth I love her”
I don’t remember knowing Elizabeth.
I love her though, or at least I did in that moment.
“These aren’t sad tears I’m crying, I’m just cutting onions my dear.”
It makes me want to rip off my flesh and run down the street as bare muscle and bone screaming ****** ******
It will get better once I leave this purgatory waiting room of stress and self-loathing, but until then my outlook is a bit glum.
I am terrified
Before me is a discolored, screaming, clawing, misshapen alien creature
My son takes his first breathes of real air
We are all exhausted
His mother looks at me with a look that practically screams,
“We did it.”
I plead, “But we’re not done doing it yet…
Are we?”
His gurgles turn into cries
And I know…
For some reason, couldn’t tell you why, I thought about Frankenstein’s Monster.
Some parts are really fuzzy,
I hold it close to me- the fuzzy parts against my skin.
It’s a quilt blanket, stitched together of pieces and parts of found cloth.
My father made it for me.
My very last birthday gift.
I cocoon myself in it like a womb.
I hated him for what he’d done, but I hated myself more for missing him.
I have to fight everyday to be a better person in spite of what I was exposed to.
Created at the Winter Writing Workshop (Dec. 27, 2015),
HEYMAN! Productions
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 9:18 PM UTC
Death comes to all of us but it's sad when a life is destroyed.
I recently learned that I lost an old friend and his name was Bobby Boyd.
It had been about thirty years since I last saw him, we were friends at school.
Sadly, Bobby was killed one sad and tragic day while he was driving his vehicle.
I didn't know that he had died until just a few days ago.
It's sad but he was a person who I'm happy to have known.
I know that his untimely death devastated his loved ones terribly.
But he isn't gone forever, when Jesus returns, so will Bobby.
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 12:34 PM UTC
i couldn’t tell you the number of times they’ve told me
my family of seven
numbers only five.
i couldn’t tell you the number of times they’ve told me,
“they’re NOT YOUR BROTHERS.
lydia is your sister, but they’re BLACK.
they can’t be part of your family,”
though all three are adopted.
i couldn’t tell you the number of times they’ve looked
at my family as if it is BROKEN,
believing there’s NO WAY
those two little boys with DARK skin
belong in that family with WHITE skin, brown hair, and blue eyes,
the perfect depiction of a german family.
this is my REALITY.
it TERRIFIES me,
watching them look
watching them
see
nothing
but
the
skin
that
is
darker
than
their
own.
no one ever questions that my little sister
with her FAIR skin is my sister,
but when they see my brothers,
they don’t understand how we’re related.
in what world do we live
that this PREJUDICE is allowed?
in what world do we live
that JUDGING people simply by their color is acceptable?
they say that it isn’t,
that they don’t do it,
that they know black people—are even friends with a few—
so there’s no way that they’re RACIST.
and
yet,
it
happens
every
day.
we see it on the news all too frequently
but brush it off as insignificant,
somebody else’s problem.
PHILANDO CASTILE.
TARIKA WILSON.
LAQUAN MCDONALD.
REKIA BOYD.
OSCAR GRANT.
AIYANA JONES.
ORLANDO BARLOW.
SEAN BELL.
MICHAEL BROWN.
YVETTE SMITH.
BOTHAM JEAN.
ERIC GARNER.
TAMIR RICE.
GEORGE FLOYD.
maybe you recognize these names.
these names are only a fraction of UNARMED african americans—
men, women, even children—
KILLED because police FEARED
the COLOR of their skin.
how can we allow this to happen?
they excuse racism, claiming it ceased long ago,
saying that because there are laws against segregation,
that because those laws were enacted,
people automatically follow them.
then
WHY
do
you
know
these
names?
i hope to one day live in a world
where I don’t have to fear for my brothers’ lives as they grow older.
a world where I know
they won’t have to fight RACISM and PREJUDICES while following their dreams.
i hope to one day live in a world
where we see more than just the color of someone’s skin.
a world where we can learn to ACCEPT and LOVE,
appreciating diversity.
i hope to one day live in a world
where my family is seen as just that,
a FAMILY. a WHOLE, LOVING FAMILY
regardless of the color of my brothers’ skin.
Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 11:15 AM UTC
bdoy
ybod
dyob
obdy
oybd
ybdo
dboy
body
byod
odyb
boyd
ybod
obyd
obdy
odby
doby
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 11:52 PM UTC
October 19 2017
22:49
She does not belong to anyone
Silence is what she will become
People come and go
People live and die
Mortality becomes reality
Aged mortal is what we will all become
Crave of freedom imprisons her
She glows in the chaos more than ever
A candle keeps burning in her mind
The songs do not make sense anymore
Off they go to nonsense
She writes to entice her appetite
The crave of peace in silence dies
She manages her silence
She works to keep calm and guard her existence
She writes of herself and no one else
She competes with herself and no one else
She blabbers writing until the candle dies
The wind says goodbye
The winter bliss says, "Hi."
The cold October passes by
Here comes the promise of a better November
December can be found at the end of the river
Just right after the eleventh plate number
This writing makes no sense
She thinks, that, maybe, in reality, she is really dense
She thinks nothing but her existence
She would rather be sole than double
She craves her mind, body and soul
Hoping for the 3-in-1 to be a certainty
She is on the verge of shouting
She envisions herself suffocating
The words do not come out right
Even Tori Amos cannot say things right
She checked her clock at 10:52
This happened just out of the blue
The coincidence now frightens her
She makes the words of Brandon Boyd void
She is talking nonsense
Just trying to make every line of the stanza rhyme
Alternate, or consecutive rhyming
It does not matter as long as the lines rhyme
"Nice to Know You" now plays
She craves to change the settings to replays
She forgets that she listens to somebody else's playlist
She thinks that the playlist embodies her being
She finally decides to stop her writing.
Goodnight.
Be plain in sight.
She will not be delighted.
She will be enlightened.
She accepts it before it happens.
Stay or go.
Live or die.
Hot or cold.
Remember everything.
Remember why.
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 11:04 AM UTC
There was the backfield tandem of Doc Blanchard and Glenn Davies on several West Point football teams of the UOS.
There is that power hitting duo of the modern day Yankees - Gary Sanchez and Aaron Judge.
There were those great power hitters of the 70s, I believe, that seemed to come in clusters like Mike Schmidt, Breen Downing, and yes, I believe, John Milner.
There was, of course, Ruth and Gehrig that stood out on the 1927 Yankees.
There's Hawke Leonard and James Harden, an unsung pair of the San Antonia Spurs and the Houston Rockets, respectively, in pro basketball that stand out.
There's Stephan Curry and Kevin Durant, a Mutt and Jeff combination in the Golden State Warriors.
There was a couple of gifted first to play on a University of Illinois basketball team African Americans that were tantalizing good at that time - Mannie Jackson and Governor Vaughn.
There was those 4 great old time Boston Celtics guards; Bob Cousy, Bill Sharman, K.C. Jones, and Sam Jones.
There was Bill Bradley and Dave Debusschere manning the wings of the New York Knickerbockers pro basketball teams of the late sixties, I believe.
There was Ron Kissinger and Glenn Becker, the keystone duo on the Chicago Cubs of the sixties, I believe.
There was Mainstay, reliable pitcher for the Casey Stengal dynasty teams - Vic Raschi and Allie Reynolds and there were great teamsmen of Vince Lombardi's pro football Green Bay Packers Super Bowl team like Dave Hammer, Forrest Gregg, and Boyd Dowler.
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC