Joni Boyd

Singer/Songwriter, Poet, Photographer and Artist Time traveler from the 60’s

[sometimeinthelate60s]

Celebrating my birthday in 1959

[sometimeinthelate60s]

The chair is empty, it hasn’t been used in some time. Longer than you’d think. What’s the point in leaving it out. He’s not coming back so you can push it in. Or is it comforting to continue setting the placemat. Are you imagining he’s still there. Does it make you feel needed when you prepare another plate for that empty chair. What are you waiting for and what do you expect. He’s not coming back.

[sometimeinthelate60s]

I am never lost in thought. I feel at home there.

[sometimeinthelate60s]

Bunny and the Jack Rabbits

1971.

Suddenly it was usual to allow yourself to outwardly be consumed by dirty thoughts

And with this new found emphasis of sex

Birthed a fixation of beauty

Men did no longer enjoy the sole presence of a nice girl

Rather they looked outward, her… assets

The best looks, a future in pornography

Someone a director would easily be able to envision

Multiple poses, positions and categories

Streets are playboy bunnies and the jack rabbits that stalk them

A hunt for flesh, something we weren’t previously biologically capable of

Yet a starving animal will always feed

The jack rabbits were always hungry, we’ve just given a blind eye to their means

[sometimeinthelate60s]

some people say they’d kill themselves if they had my body. so why don’t I?

[sometimeinthelate60s]

How can one be so beautiful

God has favorites

Maybe it’s you

Maybe it’s me

Maybe it’s my eyes

Blessed by the sight

[sometimeinthelate60s]

It’s like looking in the eyes

Of something greater than you

And falling to your knees is all you can do

You don’t feel weak or worthless

You don’t feel tired or restless

It’s like accepting light into your dark abyss

It’s like falling in love, like seeing the people you missed

I’d break every bone in my body

To take it in once again

If this is death, I guess I fear nothing

If this is life, I’ll cling to it like it’s my everything

If I never see you again, I doubt I’ll make it

But you’ll shine on, you always do

[sometimeinthelate60s]

Aesthetic photo dumb. Clearly I’m drawn to trees and heavy editing

[sometimeinthelate60s]

You got drunk

The night you said we were through

You seemed dull and confused

I was fully amused

You go through so much wine

Makes me wonder

If somehow you’re still mine

[sometimeinthelate60s]

I realized I couldn’t write love songs for you

It just never worked out, I never liked them

I’ve written endless poems for you

Though, you’d hate to read them

I’ve talked about missing you, wanting you, needing you, hating you, killing you

I’ve contemplated death and life and loving you

the words never felt quite right

You were never quite right

Not for me at least

Yet that has been so insanely hard to understand

[sometimeinthelate60s]

I remember

I memorize you

On the opposite side of you

On the opposite side of you

Take me to your house again

Show me the things

Show me the things you taught me to do

Take me to the place we met

Take me to your house again

In your backyard too

I’m still here singing with you

[sometimeinthelate60s]

In the land of love, they say they recognize you.

[sometimeinthelate60s]

At the end of the day

I hope I’m no one’s sweetheart

Nor would I be someone’s best friend

I don’t want relationships to tank

No one to suffer, to die in the end

I’m afraid I’ll misstep

I get emotional, overly upset

I’m not gentle with my bomb

I’m a deadly disease

A burden you’ll keep with life

Never rid of with ease

I can’t handle being there for you

When just being has gotten hard

I’m content by my lonesome

Better to keep your skin clean than scarred

Clara Boyd

[babydollcasket]

heart shaped bed ♡

[sometimeinthelate60s]

I forgot to treat myself like porcelain

Now I have to suffer the effects

Scars and bruises my skin collects

I was rough and dirty

I once looked at my battered skin

Displays of my triumphs through time

And I could find beauty within

Now though, I find it ugly

I am upset with myself for the damage

Now that I am mature I must manage

Desirable girls are so perfect and clean

I was careless with myself

Now all that carelessness is seen

Clara Boyd

[a-woman-unkind]

no thoughts just pattie boyd in the '60s

[sometimeinthelate60s]

You’ve killed me

And you want me to go on living

Well I welcome the knife

But you must stay at the door

Clara Boyd