How can you ask me to keep my cool?
I suppose it’s easy to say.
But when the talking is through, you and my lover
Will get up and walk happily away.

I know you’ll understand my lack of humor;
I didn’t come to bring you valentines.
Once I had a heart and it was broken.
I’m not in the mood to be kind.

So, I guess it’s time now for us to part.
I guess there isn’t much left to say.
This isn’t they we had things planned.
I wish it had turned out another way.

I fully can admit to being selfish.
This is not an easy scene to play.
Did you really think it would be pleasant?
Just another hyper-normal day?

How can you ask me to keep my cool?
I suppose it’s easy to say.
But when the talking is through, you and my lover
Will get up and walk happily away.

Brent Kincaid
4/22/2015

BIG BUT…

I’m a tolerant type of person
So, I try to look at others leniently.
(But...)
You sent the fox to guard the hen house,
That kind of thinking doesn’t makes no sense to me.
I don’t know why you took the stance
That this was such a clever thing to do.
(But…)
Then with all the chickens gone
You tried hard to blame everyone but you.

You got to look out for that big but.
It gets in the way of so much you say.
You always seem to show that big but.
It’s gonna bit you in the end someday.

Your peers have chosen to trust in you.
They sent you to work to represent their case.
(But…)
You took it as a treasure chest
And ran amok, and now you are off base.
Your corruption is nearly absolute
You job is to care what the people think
(But…)
You lost touch with what you are
Right now you don’t know just how much you stink.

You got to look out for that big but.
It gets in the way of so much you say.
You always seem to show that big but.
It’s gonna bite you in the end someday.

The old man said to me
“Although it may sound strange,
Time will have its effect on you
And your focus will surely change.
Right now getting naked means
A shower or some **** fun.
But when you get to be older
*** is no longer number one.

You see, life has time limits
And then, that’s all there is.
You start out good at things
A sure enough veritable ****.
When young we race around
And later we have to walk.
Early on we are doing things
Later, we prefer to sit and talk.

There is less time for us
To make sure promises are kept
Than the nimble candlesticks
That always have to be leapt.
There are candles that refuse
To stay lit from both ends
And far too soon, we find
That clocks are not our friends.

So celebrate while you can
And sow your own wild oats
Because all that is left is stink
When you deal with old goats.
Having said all that he turned
And looked me in the eye.
Still when the time comes, you
Probably won’t want to say goodbye."

Brent Kincaid
4/19/2015

Waiting my turn to pay
For the items we need today;
The beans and the chili
And some picklelilli
And costly imported pate.

A headline that says glaringly
What some starlet does daringly.
What I see before my eyes
A big edition full of lies
They put here to tempt me daringly.

Where childbirth oddities
Are viewed as commodities
To put onto the front page
Soon, to become all the rage.
And two headed goats
Get the kind of public note
That should be reserved
For something more deserved.

We all know these stories
Are anecdotal glories
Made up by the magazines;
The tawdriest ever seen
And they don’t mind getting gory.
It’s yellow journalism
A sort of print format ****
Intended for the kind of fool
Who never finished school
And falls for jingoism.

Where childbirth oddities
Are views as commodities
To put onto the front page
Soon, to become all the rage.
And two headed goats
Get the kind of public note
That should be reserved
For something more deserved.

Brent Kincaid
4/18/2015

Dad and Mom were supposed
To protect me from monsters
Hiding under my bed, and
Of course many, many others.
It is so much scarier now that
I don’t know who to trust
I thought it had to be you two.
As parents are surely just.
But, it isn’t true, I know
As my parents don’t care.
They burn me with cigarettes
And lift me by my hair.

I am scared about tomorrow
Based upon my today.
If I think I am safe for a moment
It is sure to go away.
There is nobody to protect me
From those who mean me harm.
There is no place I can trust
There is no place safe and warm.

And late at night when sleeping
And one of them comes in.
They have a frightened animal
In a tiny, unsafe pen.
One of you hits me, I am a temptation.
The other touches me privately.
It’s an unwelcome sensation.
But I am too young to tell you
That you should go away.
It’s enough to ruin my sleep
And fear the end of day.

I am scared about tomorrow
Based upon my today.
If I think I am safe for a moment
It is sure to go away.
There is nobody to protect me
From those who mean me harm.
There is no place I can trust
There is no place safe and warm.

Brent Kincaid
4/18/2015

She sits on the courthouse steps
Playing songs she herself wrote
Every word she sings she means
Her heart there in every note.
She sings of the pain she sees
In the world that passes by.
She sings to you and to me
Her music makes you cry.

(She sings)
We who have so much
Give little to the others.
We let our children starve
And do not help the mothers
And the fathers who work
To make their daily bread
While rich people won’t help
Keep a house over their heads.

She manages to choose chords
That sing of lonely suffering.
Her angelic voice softens up
The accusations she’s uttering.
She tells of squandered glory
In the wasting of our lives
While the overfed rich people
Go home to their gilded wives.

(She sings)
We who have so much
Give little to the others.
We let our children starve
And do not help the mothers
And the fathers who work
To make their daily bread
While rich people won’t help
Keep a house over their heads.

Few listen to the troubadour
Who tells us all our name.
They may drop in a penny
To soften up their shame.
But every day they pass her
And soon they do not hear
The wisdom in her lyrics.
They do not feel the fear.

(She sings)
We who have so much
Give little to the others.
We let our children starve
And do not help the mothers
And the fathers who work
To make their daily bread
While rich people won’t help
Keep a house over their heads.

Brent Kincaid
4/18/2015

There are grassy meadows
And quiet mountain streams
Enough to soothe you
And stimulate your dreams.
There are blue-sky days
With great clouds in the skies
To convince you that dreams
Can come true before your eyes.

The sailing ships and Pegasus
Careen across the open sky.
You can see them, just lie back
Let them parade before your eyes.
Look and see the waterfalls
And mountain tops rising high.
Let your imagination take you up
To that dream show in the sky.

If you listen closely enough
You can hear lovely songs
Played by celestial bands.
Don’t give up, it won’t take long.
Let your soul join in too
And set your mind adrift
In those cloudy canyons
And fluffy white daydream cliffs.

Brent Kincaid
4/17/2015