Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
When I was a youngster
It was too easy to trust
Older now, I’m choosy
And I feel I must
Pay attention to what
Folks say and what they do
Those who would abuse me
Must prove themselves true.

As I grew I noticed
How much was said was false.
I started then to learn
I had to learn the calls
Of those who were being
Just socially polite
And those who were cheaters
I saw that was not right.

But even the most polite
Of carefully chosen untruth
Seemed a bit off kilter
To the a questioning youth.
I learned I should never
Admit a dress made girls fat.
And I learned one could not
Call someone’s kid a brat.

But I never have gotten over
The strong public insistence
That I ignore their crimes.
To that I still feel resistance.
So, I can’t agree with anyone
When voted into public office.
I find myself being very hard
When so many of them are pompous.

I know I will never agree
To hate people who are different.
I guess the day I was born
I didn’t come with that equipment,
And even though friends
And family sought to teach me
How to be a bigoted ****,
The lessons didn’t reach me.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
There now is a guy in D.C.
Who thinks he is king there, you see.
He built a big list
And no one was missed
That he wants to throw into the sea.

He decided his kingdom should be
His kind of democracy;
Where we’ll do what he said
Or we’ll end up dead
And he can claim solidarity.

The guy is quite plainly eluded
He wants certain people excluded
He thinks we don’t see
His gross villainy;
The emperor is completely denuded.

He thinks our land is his plaything
He issues demands that are dismaying.
His delusions are obvious.
He’s out to ruin all of us.
It’s a dangerous game he is playing.

Some of us hope he gets locked up
And based on the plans he has hocked up
He reminds of a dumb *****
Who is surprised once more
When she finds out that she’s knocked up.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
Lift up your eyes and see
You are correct to deeply fear.
Worse than all history
It’s gonna be a bad year.

The GOP has changed DC,
Now it stands for Demented Congressmen.
Federal Secretaries can barely spell!
It will take decades to fix this again.

Hide in your house and pray
Ignoring all the threatening signs.
Pay no attention to the news,
Everything will turn out just fine.

Who needs their civil rights?
Just pay your taxes and be quiet.
No one in Washington
Hears your opinion, they don’t buy it.

The whole show is bribes, so
If you’re a multi billionaire
And pay the right people,
Some one in Congress will care.

Remember the actual rules,
The important thing in politics
Is  stay in office for life
Even if they have to use tricks.

Being a statesman today
Doesn’t mean a thing any more
Because the voters
Don’t really care to keep score.

They raise lots of handy cash
And buy the most successful publicist
Then they have the people
Crushed in their grubby little fists.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
Wutsa matter wit you?
Whirr you frumm?
You from summ furren country?
Cain’t you tawk better den at?
Murruhkunz doan tawk Inglush lie cat.
We talk good Inglush. We tawk da bess Inglush.
Ain’t nobody tawk better den us.
Irregardless of whut kine uh furriner you are
You could not tawk so ignernt.
It’s a insult tah good Murrukuhns tawkin lie cat.
You should be imburrst to tawk ataway in public.
Should be ashaymt uh yerself.

Yenno, peepo c’n perject thur ignernce
’N thur lack intelluhgunce so easy.
They jess open up thur mouths
’N let the dumbness fall out
’N thur it is, fer alll to see.
Yude thank they’d realize what dumshits they are
’N not let thur mouths write checks
Thur butts cain’t cover.
But, no. They’s flappin’ thur yaps an babblin’
‘Bout nothin’ at all, ’n actin’ the pure fool
Lack thur mamas din teach them nuthin.
Well, nuthin’ good, at lease.
Me, muhseff, I thank sumbuddy
Shoulda kicked thur butts
From here ta Sundee.

But, thass jess me.
I know thurs a buncha bleedin’ heart libralls out thur
That wanna let peepo get by with crap jess ‘cause
Sumbuddy is a Niger er ‘cause they’s Messcun
Er sum kinda ******* heathen er ‘sump’n,
But I thank thass jess wrong.
Peepo gotta talk good jess to respeck the flag
’N God n’ country. Or go home.
Yeah, go on back to whatever Godless place
You ’n your race ’n yer ideas is okay.
We rilly doan need ‘em here.
We’s good, God fearing’ peepo and hard working too.
So, if that ain’t you, *** on yer camel ’n ride
Back tah whurever you cumm frumm
Till you c’n tawk good Iinglush lack decent fokes.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
Yankee Doodle you’re a dope
And a brain-dead pigeon.
You elected a big mope
Who brought his villains with him.

Yank your doodle and keep it up
That should keep you busy.
Then we’ll all say look at him
He’s not worth much more, is he?

Yankee ******* went to DC
Just to make a fortune.
But his dreams of grandeur we
Found we can’t afford them.

Yankee Doodle is not one guy
Turns out it’s half a nation.
Now we have the piper to pay
And he will have his ration.

Yankee Doodle, bunch of fools
Easy to mislead them.
Now they have but fallow fields
And no good grain to feed them.

Yankee ******* feeds them lies
Says he’ll fix the whole thing.
Half the people said yes he will
The rest say who’s he kidding?

Yankee ******* is a man
Yankee Doodle's not one.
Yankee Doodle loves a fascist.
Omigod, they’ve got one!
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
I sang for you the summer songs
When days were long and warm.
I sang for you the autumn songs
In nights of rain and storms.
I sang you songs of patience when
The winter nights grew cold.
I sang for you when we were young
And now when we’ve grown old.

And now I sing to you of spring
And flowers bloom once again.
I sing of rebirth of the year
The same as I sang back then.
I sing the songs of loving you
And the fortune we have had.
I sing to you of happiness
So you will know I am glad.

Glad to be the lucky one
Who met you long ago
And certain that we have had
More luck than others know.
We’ve watched others break apart
And lose the love they knew.
They lost the gratitude it takes
To have a dream come true.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
Have you  ever met someone
So odious and evil you cringed?
Someone who was so obviously
From Hell they looked singed?
A person so awful to be around
You badly wanted to move away
So you would not accidentally
Hear a word they had to say?

Someone who, by showing up
Could make a bright day dim?
A person who could *** you out
Without a word from them?
A slimy kind of crap machine
That filled your heart with dread;
So much you feared to hear
A single word they said?

The kind of creep you tried hard
To avoid glancing their way;
To hear their views on anything
Could solidly *** your day.
For years you suspected they
Had no parenting much at all.
A decent parent would have taught
Them better when they were was small.

Sadly though, not watching him
And avoiding the ugly sight
Was not the way that was the best,
It didn’t work out so right.
Thinking he was so obvious
That no body would ever trust
Laissez faire might have worked
Close, but really only just.

Because snakes like that kind
Sneak around and pass out bribes
And play the game of devils
That King James describes.
They rise to the top of criminals
Who have morals just like them;
That is to say no morals at alll
Just greed, lust and whim.
Next page