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Brent Kincaid Oct 2016
Peaches and cream,
That’s what you are to me
Flowers in a stream.
Red and gold sunsets
Just like in a dream.
Cotton candy days
That’s what I have with you
A honey scented haze.
Two people matched in
Ever after ways.

It sometimes seems we
Are floating on a cloud.
It makes someone like me
Want to shout out loud.
I am so lucky,
It makes me want to sing.
I am that wealthy
That I have everything.

Peaches and cream,
It’s like a fairy tale
Just the way it seems.
But I won’t wake up
As this is not a dream.
This is a moment
Like I once wished upon.
A busted wishbone
And all my sadness gone.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2016
Rockabye baby
Up in the air.
Nobody questions
How it got there.
Who would put babies
Up high in a tree?
That sounds like
Child abusing to me!

People have sung this
For hundreds of years
Contributing little
But compounded fears.
They should rethink it
But they feel they must
Later they wonder
About lack of trust.

Like many stories
And songs sung to kids
Some scary stories
Are not so well hid
Like kid-munching witches
And following crumbs
Small wonder they fear
Wicked things come.

So don't put your babies
Up high in a tree
Not even lower
Like branch two or three.
Think up a ditty
That might help them thrive
And grow up happy
That they are alive.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2016
Things are much better now
Then back in days gone by
When I was always lonely
And love songs made me cry.
I no longer get depressed
When couples pass me by
Seeing two people happy
Made me wonder why.

Was I some kind of loser
Or someone undeserving?
Love just kept avoiding me
I found it most unnerving.
I questioned everything about me
Was I really so unloveable?
I could find no answers then.
I only knew I was miserable.

Friends tried hard to fix me up
But nothing seemed to work.
It was like I was a circus clown
Or some kind of social ****.
I smiled and laughed and I
Was oh so very polite
But somehow everything I tried
Did not seem to work out right.

So after such a long time
I decided to give up trying.
If I said I wasn’t nervous then
I would totally be lying.
Once I gave up self-pitying
I began to enjoy every day.
I guess I looked a bit better;
Things began to go my way.

One day a conversation
Turned into a relationship
And all those safeguards
And fears began to slip.
They dropped off and suddenly
I found it easy to feel love.
This was the kind of feeling
I was hearing so much of.

So, the sad times were gone
They had slipped into the past
And out of the blue, unprepared
I have something that lasts.
I am smart enough to know
I should not ask myself why.
I am just delighted that today
Love songs don’t make me cry.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2016
See the Nigra boy statue
On a White front lawn
It is all that is left now
The Old South is gone.
It’s beloved in those towns
With proper church steeples
From the good old days
When people owned people.

It is a symbol of when
Blacks stayed in at night
And all public offices
Were held by the Whites.
When all human rights
Applied to only Caucasians,
And not to Blacks, Hispanics,
American Indians or Asians.

Those were the days when
It was easy to quickly see
Which were the good people
And which ones were guilty.
In those much better times
We didn’t stoop to harrangue them.
If they shot off their mouths
We would  simply hang them.

Two hundred years of tradition
Was rudely taken away
No matter how we fought it
No matter what we had to say.
Those were the best times
And we liked it that way.
And our friendly Congressmen
Should make that way today.

The little Lawn Jockey remains
Almost by himself to carry on
Now that the massas and mistresses
In the Sainted South are gone.
He signifies a better time
Like Stephen Foster songs:
We never found owning darkies
So very evil or all that wrong.
I have known FAR too many people in my life who feel this way, so I decided I needed to share this so you can be on the lookout to avoid such creeps as talk like this.
Brent Kincaid Oct 2016
This is the tale of the
Kid’s doll, the wallygog.
A doll meant to look like
A pale pitiful human hog
With a clammy white body
With wimpy yellow hair
And blue button eyes,
And cotton belly to spare.

It is so unattractive that
It must be that this toy
Is meant to insult them,
White girls and boys,
So that playing with it
Puts them in their place
As objects of ridicule
Laughs in the white face.

Because look how sad,
With wan sewn-open lips
And imitation Gap clothes
Sewn to shoulder and hip.
How foolish and rude
Is this toy made by fools.
Who can truly ignore
What is meant by this tool?

Yet is so popular now
The silly Wallygog today;
Some children refuse
As they grow, to set it away.
They carry it around
And it leaves me agog
That they never understand
What it means, this Wallygog.
Brent Kincaid Sep 2016
There will be someone there
Down that long lonely road
Maybe someone who will
Help you carry the load.
Maybe nothing more than
Someone who cares
To listen to you speak
And walk with you somewhere.

It all will depend on you
Whether you are seeing
And whether you can hear
A loving caring being.
Or whether you are hearing
That chanting in your mind
That you have trained yourself
To treat yourself unkind.

It will matter heavily
If you prefer to count weeds
Rather than smell flowers
Because that’s what it needs
If you want to change directions
And take a different route.
Want to ***** and grumble?
You have to cut it out!

Look for the beautiful
The kindness in your life.
Avoid the painful focus
On resentment and strife.
There will be someone there
Down that long lonely road
Maybe someone who will
Help you carry the load.
Brent Kincaid Sep 2016
I woke up this morning
That's a success.
I went to the closet
And found stuff to dress
And cover myself well
Against the elements.
I didn't get trampled
By buffalo or elephants.

I ate well and got ready
For whatever comes today.
Whether it be some work
Or some healthy play.
I made the bed and then
Showered myself clean.
I had some great coffee
While I read a new magazine.

I got into my car, which runs
And enjoyed the scenery.
I didn't sleep under a bridge
Or beg food at a beanery.
I went to work and had some
Fulfilling job satisfaction.
And as I went about my day
Guilty of no criminal action.

I was helpful to all, and I
Was detrimental to nobody.
I did the best at my job
And my work was not shoddy.
I sought support whenever
I knew it was badly needed
And smiled as the problems
Mostly quickly receded.

I have given up whining
And envy of my peers.
I no longer allow jealousy
To linger in my ears.
I am a lucky person today
And grateful to say it.
There is no other way
To properly portray it.
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