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May 20 · 181
SHOVE IT!
Brent Kincaid May 20
Have you never told the truth
Even in your untrustworthy youth?
Did ever make a habit of saying what you mean?
You’re the biggest fake and loser many have ever seen.
When you look into the mirror, what is it you see?
Can you tell how far you’ve fallen from humanity?
You’re always lyin’, lyin’, lyin’!
So shove it where the sun don’t shine.


You make up crap so fast you can’t keep track.
So much sounds like it came out of the other crack.
You cheat and brazenly brag about your cheating.
At the Devil’s table you needn’t worry about seating.
You’ll be right there at Beelzebub’s right hand
And you’ll have friends there, won’t it be grand?
You’re always lyin’, lyin’, lyin’!
So shove it where the sun don’t shine.

The way you look and dress, and your awful voice
Makes me change the channel if I have any choice.
If the gym I go to has you on the cable TV
I switch the gym I go to as quickly as can be.
I never take kindly to liars and to bragging thieves.
I hope your crimes will match the penalty you receive.
You’re always lyin’, lyin’, lyin’!
So shove it where the sun don’t shine.

Brent Kincaid
5/20/2019
May 19 · 143
THE LEADER
Brent Kincaid May 19
A leader, strong of heart
Proud of soul and mind
Sure of purpose and hope
Nor is the Leader blind.
In horrifying circumstance
When nobility seems gone
The leader stands up proud
And the truth marches on.

When larceny and intolerance
Become the uniform of the day
The leader speaks of opportunity
To do things a better way.
The Leader risks scorn of people who
Care more of what is gained today
Than taking care of our future
And not as much of today’s pay.

The Leader does not scoff at us
If we want to make a living wage.
The Leader only objects to us
If we couple wealth with rage.
If we hate people who are not rich
And wish to take human rights away
The Leader objects and points to the law
And has many good things to say.

The Leader may not be the one who
Was elected to protect the common citizen.
But the Leader seeks to teach us all
To save all of our futures for our children
The Leader means to save our world for
The opportunity to be a healthy human.
The Leader so far has mostly been a man
But The Leader can just as likely be a woman.

Brent Kincaid
5/18/2019
Brent Kincaid May 16
In the dark of night
I have seen a wild sight
That made some say
“That’s not really right!”
When visitors go walking
Through walls an such
Reality is far out of touch,
And good common sense
No longer means that much.

A logical person, that is me,
With no love for surreality,
Instead an intense inner drive
For a world of abject sanity.
Until, to my upset and surprise,
A kind of person, before my eyes
Appeared to spiritually enchant me.
Surely a ghost and not a disguise.

On a pleasing evening walk
I spent a while in chatty talk.
The fellow so handsome
I could find no way to balk.
He told me an interesting tale;
A wandering life of freedom and jail
And meeting other vagabonds
Riches and fame both no avail.

We shared about the weather
We talked for hours together
I noticed his suit was three pieces
Wool plaid instead of leather.
I am sure I was quite obvious,
He couldn’t have stayed oblivious
Of the way I was wanting him
My face gave away my wishes.

He said he had to go quite soon
And my heart, a burst balloon
Also showed on my sad face.
Smiling, he pointed to the moon.
From his lapel he took a shiny pin
And fixed to to my collar and then
Smiling, he kissed me warmly
Which set my head into a spin.

Then, his colors began to glimmer,
The ancient clothing started to shimmer
And my lovely suitor began to fade.
My passion for him soon left to simmer.
Because like a camera trick he was gone
And I was left on my own to move on
And face the facts that I was looking at air,
Just me and a memory on the city lawn.

I questioned myself and my sanity too.
What else could any sane person do
When faced with such a visible mystery?
How could any of this have been true?
I looked down to my collar and there
Was that pin this ghost had pinned where
I could not deny his existence was real.
So, perhaps you see why I had to share.

Brent Kincaid
5/16/2019
May 10 · 142
SHOW PONIES
Brent Kincaid May 10
A small platoon of beauty,
Lovely boygirls with tiny *****
Posing like Vogue models
And doing dancing tricks
So, hot. So pretty, but not
In the slightest masculine;
No attempt to be butch,
They revel in being feminine.

They’re better at it than girls
Being more of a success
Than all the ** movie stars
In ten thousand dollar dresses.
Such pretty smooth faces, traces
Of ancestry and cool breeding
For thousands of screaming teens
Wishing they were breeding.

They wish these boys were closer
So they could caress and kiss
Close enough so they could not
Avoid, so the teens could not miss.
They want to carefully tarnish them,
These angels of flashing bright lights,
And cuddle them, snuggle them
If only for one youthful, sensuous night.
May 9 · 98
MR. MEPHISTOPHOLE
You’re worried god will be offended
That I will fall in love the wrong way,
But won’t have any problem with
The children you let starve today?
You look so carefully into my life
And claim it’s all about morality
Then lock scared children in cages
While you brag about your decency.

You are what you say you hate
You don’t have what you claim;
You don’t have an honest bone,
Idea, or principle to your name.

You have carefully been fed your lines;
You make specious, wafer thin excuses,
You blame good people for your lies,
For your own past and present abuses.
If there is a god in heaven looking on
You are headed for your self-described hell.
But worry not, you’ll have lots of company
Among the devils you have supported so well.

You are what you say you hate
You don’t have what you claim;
You don’t have an honest bone,
Idea, or principle to your name.

Brent Kincaid
5/9/2019
Apr 29 · 146
BARE HARRY
Brent Kincaid Apr 29
His head and his body were
Bald as an egg for all to see.
His parents named him Harry
But he did not turn out to be.
As an antonymic masterpiece
His name is rife with humor
But in poor Harry’s opinion
It was taken as a social tumor.

Every joke that would be said,
No matter how crass was made
At work, at play by everyone
Beginning in the seventh grade
When his baby fine blond hair
Began to hide on back of head.
It hurt his feelings to frequently hear
The things his peers all said.

By the time he reached maturity
He learned to accept his fate;
Everyday friends could not resist
Making light of his name and pate!
While it’s human nature all of this
It’s a constantly rather bitter pill,
And though he learned to smile
It kind of hurts his feelings still.

Bare Harry, bald as a shaved baby.
Plenty of tacky hairless jokes to spare
Shouldn’t we cut him some slack maybe
And focus on something besides his hair
Or the obvious lack thereof on his head
And point out his forgiving personality?
But sadly, that is just not the way
Of the reality of the world’s humanity.

Brent Kincaid
4/29/2019
Apr 29 · 200
JIGGLE-FREE GIGOLO
Brent Kincaid Apr 29
I guess I’m a different sort
A kind of jiggle-free ******;
When the fun turns to money
I always choose to go.
I have no beef with prostitutes,
Some are great at having fun.
It’s just when it comes to me
I’d rather see than be one.

I am usually flat broke
Not a dollar to my name.
It’s almost like saving up
Has never been my game.
I know I could maybe do well
By snuggling someone wealthy,
But I know people who did that
And it never worked out healthy.

I guess I’m a different sort
A kind of jiggle-free ******;
When the fun turns to money
I always choose to go.
I have no beef with prostitutes,
Some are great at having fun.
It’s just when it comes to me
I’d rather see than be one.

I’d much rather just play around
And see what happens then.
I don’t plan and I don’t demand,
I don’t insist we do it all again.
I might be gone when you wake
Off to have new adventures.
I don’t care if my wandering ways
Are looked upon with abject censure.

I say it up front, so no heartbreak,
I tell you please don’t to marry me.
I pay my own way and sleep where I wish.
I don’t need anyone to carry me.
If you see me down the road a ways
And I’m behaving some other way instead;
Not the jiggle-free ******, I am normally
Then bury me, it means I’m dead

I guess I’m a different sort
A kind of jiggle-free ******;
When the fun turns to money
I always choose to go.
I have no beef with prostitutes,
Some are great at having fun.
It’s just when it comes to me
I’d rather see than be one.

Brent Kincaid
4/28/2019
Apr 27 · 129
THE CHILD OF ANOTHER
Brent Kincaid Apr 27
The orgiastic abandon,
I had seen that face.
And, at last, perforce
The guilt, the disgrace,
It was not new to me
Though I had never seen
What the source of it
Had ultimately been.
Later I would know it
As the fulfillment of ***
But the child saw it as
Some mad kind of hex.

And if the first one along
Is like I was at the start
The child of another
There is no room in the heart
Of the adopting parent
Who sees in the bearing
Of the child of another
The source of swearing.

And even the birth child
Is not immune from abuse.
Good behavior and love
Simply has here no use.



This is the sentence
Of men and women
Who acquire offspring
When they don’t like children.
They set their minds up
To repeatedly bear them
To avoid askance looks
And any open criticism.

So they suffer and complain
About what a heavy burden
It is for them to have to
Put up with their children.
And if the first one along
Is like I was at the start
The child of another
There is no room in the heart
Of the adopting parent
Who sees in the bearing
Of the child of another
The source of swearing.

And even the birth child
Is not immune from abuse.
Good behavior and love
Simply has here no use.
If a soul-deprived mother
Never felt love of her own
She has none to spare,
No patience to condone.

The woes of these parents
Is of not having any peace,
No time of their own then,
No feeling of surcease.
It’s as if a child born
Has a few years to grow
Before turning into adult
Who will automatically know.

They will know how to parent
This sick, twisted adult one
Who doesn’t seem to like them
Or anything much they have done.
This is the sad tune of those
Who made many awful choices
But still have no use for any
Of the warning, advising voices.

Brent Kincaid
4/26/2019
Apr 23 · 319
PRESIDENT COMB-OVER
Brent Kincaid Apr 23
President Comb-Over,
Quite the despicable guy
Got himself elected
But the wise folk wonder why.
Obama wore a tan suit
Conservatives went insane,
But this Wimpy lookalike butterball
Sports a totally artificial mane.

If ****** predation were a soccer game
This **** would win The World Cup.
If you ignored the news and his tweets
You’d think someone made this horror show up.
He’s lied and cheated and swindled his way
In to more lucrative deals than he deserved
Then a large minority of certifiable idiots
Elected him so he could to pretend to serve.

He took the Oath of Office, quite smugly
But that’s where his integrity would end.
He set about making deals for himself
His trophy wives, his offspring and friends.
He made few attempts to cover his tracks,
Mostly just shouted blatantly obvious lies
By which he was fooling no one intelligent.
Just the moronic, the foolish and unwise.

He relied on the vagaries of human nature
That voters are among the laziest humans
And would rather vote for a rascal it seems
Than take a chance on an honest new man
Or woman, or *** or an experienced soul
That could take over the Presidential reins
Instead of driving our country straight to hell
And making huge profits off the remains.

Brent Kincaid
4/23/2019
Apr 15 · 200
MISE EN SCENE
Brent Kincaid Apr 15
MISE EN SCENE

Once, the long ago and far away me
Could attract the eye and heart.
But without my watching it be so
I did not see my good looks depart.
I did not see the wrinkles arrive,
Nor the spots appear on my skin.
I did not note the muscles loosen
And the arms and legs go so thin.

I watched the blonde become silver
And the dark become so very light
But, I did not mind the stooping posture
As tiredness made it feel just right.
I felt my diet changing because
Some things no longer tempted
Others took their places every time
As the younger favorites were exempted.

But now I have glasses everywhere
And I turn the television up too loud
That the neighbors squeal to the landlord
And that does not make me proud.
For most of my life, I read incessantly
But now, never can read at night
Because I have to have a strong lamp
Or the lighting is not quite right.

And, oh the pills I must take now.
Some for morning and some for night.
I must take them in order, counting
So I know I keep the dosage just right.
Some are supplements, but some are for
That age that I have now achieved.
Yes, I am that old, and accept it mostly
Even though I find it hard to believe.

Brent Kincaid
4/14/2019
Jan 1 · 254
A POST ABOUT A GHOST
Do you love me?
Yes, he lied,
And thus left
The door opened wide,
That soon left
Only lonely me inside.
Oh, I wanted him to stay
But regardless how I tried
He pushed me aside
And rushed outside
Free of my needs
As if out of the weeds
And into tomorrow,
Not a moment of sorrow
For my hopes or tears.
That had not worked for years.
He was completely free,
But not so with me.
I was left with what I feared most,
A love affair with an uncaring ghost.

Yes, begging is seedy
And I knew being needy
Was as making me unattractive
But my fear was active
And my lack of self-esteem
Made my tears seem to be
Righteous temptation,
Not abomination.
At least to me,
As far as I could see.
Not then.
Is wisdom ever given to men
When they need it most,
Like when in love with a ghost
Of my own desperate creating?
It’s probably not worth debating.
Dec 2018 · 194
THE ONUS OF PARENTING
Brent Kincaid Dec 2018
This is the sad song
Of men and women
Who create offspring
When they don’t like children.
They set their minds up
To repeatedly bear them
To avoid askance looks
And any open criticism.

So they suffer and complain
About what a heavy burden
It is for them to have to
Put up with their children.
Each day with the rugrats
Nets no child any praise
They see not much beauty
In the offspring they raise.

If a soul deprived mother
Never felt love of her own
She has none to spare,
No patience to condone.
The talk of these parents
Is of not having any peace,
No time of their own then,
No feeling of surcease.

It’s as if a child born
Has but few years to grow
Before needing to be an adult
Who will automatically know.
That they must know to parent
The sick adult needy one
Who doesn’t seem to like them
Or anything much they have done.

This is the sad tune of those
Who made many awful choices
But still have no use for any
Of loving, advising voices.
It’s a song too many sing;
The music heart breaking,
Yet few of those parents know
The sense of trust they are taking.
Dec 2018 · 297
TASTELESS MORSEL
Brent Kincaid Dec 2018
I don’t call you crumpet
I doubt you taste very good.
But you fit the name strumpet
Like I was sure you would.
A better name would be porcupine
The pork part fits you so much
But it would be so very awful;
You’re a thing I’d hate to touch.

I’d call your crew a clown car,
But, while you are surely on wheels.
You are more of a slow train wreck
Based on the looks and the feel.
Some fools call you Robin Hood
But I reject that whole twisted pitch.
Robin Hood did not rob the poor
Just so he could give to the rich.

You think you’re a smart cookie
But, you are nothing but a crumb.
You think we are all of us stupid
But only your supporters that are dumb.
You’re a ****** cake that has fallen
With a poisonous coat of frosting.
You are not worth a penny of what
A disaster like you are is costing.

You leave a nasty taste in the mouth
Of those who have to be near you.
There is nothing about you at all
That would serve to endear you.
It really would nice if you would go
Live for decades in a prison cell.
That color of orange, for once
Would suit you so very well.
Dec 2018 · 232
ICARUS
Brent Kincaid Dec 2018
When I was young
I thought I knew
All of the answers,
Red green and blue.
Some were a game
That I had to guess
Sometimes confused
Not just no or yes.
I chose to act like
I was all that aware
Knew what was fact
Nothing could scare.
Then came a moment of truth
That gave no credit for my youth.
I had to pay such a terrible price.
My habit was to scorn good advice.

I was the slave to lazy ways.
I chose to waste away my days
Always the child of constant fun
Until I flew to close to the sun.
And I could lift up my arms
And believed I could fly.
I was headed for heaven
Up there in the sky.

Now I am older, I can see,
After the crash to the earth,
Just what happened to me.
I am not an angel, not by birth.
I have to learn to accept
What I am and accordingly
Act like the human I am
And honor my destiny.
Too long I cherished a dream.
I am a child of the earth, too.
I fell in love with what I believed
Now I must do what people do.
I can still spread my wings wide
But it is to reach and embrace.
Let the winds stay in the sky
Unless they caress my face.

I was the slave to lazy ways.
I chose to waste away my days
Always the child of constant fun
Until I flew to close to the sun.
And I could lift up my arms
And believed I could fly.
I was headed for heaven
Up there in the sky.
Nov 2018 · 198
JESUS IS A FRIENDLY GUY
Brent Kincaid Nov 2018
JESUS IS A FRIENDLY GUY

Jesus is a friendly guy.
Such a very friendly guy.
Lived two thousand years
Didn’t care for queers
And he has a painful tale
That brings us all to tears.

Jesus is a loving guy
Doesn’t even have to try;
That’s why he was born
To have his body torn
So it’s not a total loss
We get colored eggs on Easter morn.

Jesus is a groovy dude.
Don’t let this song get misconstrued
He’s god and he is man
We do everything we can
To beat and **** the fools
With anti-Jesus attitude.

Jesus was Caucasian man.
He was so much better than
Any Jewish kind of guy
That’s the reason why
The televangelists and stuff
You buy from them began.

Jesus needs your money now.
So sell your tractor and your plow.
Your preacher’s gonna show you how
To fill the check out while you bow.
You go to heaven with no doubt.
Jesus needs your money now.

Brent Kincaid
11/27/2018
It's a parody of what may be a YouTube parody song called JESUS IS MY FRIEND.
Oct 2018 · 298
STRAIGHT JACKET
Brent Kincaid Oct 2018
In the fifties in the USA
It was sad, but at the time
It was a rock solid fact;
Flamboyance was a crime.
I had to wear a coat and tie
The uniform of every day
Behaving quite the normal guy
In every conceivable way.

To be a good Samaritan
And genuflect at the altar,
Wear the collar of a puritan,
And not shame your father
By being some kind of fool
Who goes against the will
Of a society that longs for
A conformity inducing pill.

I gazed longingly at clothes
Of fashionable panderers
With the color matching garb
That triggered the slanderers.
But more than their profession
I saw their ability to strut,
The fit, the material display,
The magnificence of the cut.

And I had trouble being
That kind of person they craved.
To me it was a boring ride
From birth, right to the grave.
I could not understand those
Who felt life was not for living.
What good were the gifts I saw
If I refused their very giving?

Not for me, even when young
To spend my time mud crawling.
I would rather spend my efforts
In verbal social brawling.
I rejected insulting phrases that
Proper people so often employ
And chose instead the descriptive
And openly proud ‘*** *******’.

I refused to let the common man
Who was afraid of his own crotch
Insist I be mute while he insisted
That I should stand and watch.
No, I would be who I was then
And reject their false packet
Of wearing the coat of social balm
Which I called The Straight Jacket.
Oct 2018 · 291
RHYMING RONNIE
Brent Kincaid Oct 2018
Ronnie couldn’t talk
And be rhymless at all.
He could barely walk,
I'm pretty sure he'd fall,
Unless he was rhyming.
He said to me, “You see
The thing is with me
It all has to do with timing.

The cadence when I walk
Become words I hear,
The beat when someone talks
Makes a poem in my ear,
Then the rhyming begins
And seems to make good sense.
The words like magic appear
Poetic possibilities immense.”

All of the time I knew him
It seemed to be the truth
He rhymed almost constantly
From his very verbal youth.
He was like a Hallmark card
Sometimes saying pithy things
That fit the moment exactly
And had that ***** ring.

But other times his utterances
Were acerbic and very witty.
When it came to sarcastic tilt
He was the Mayor of Snark City.
Or he could rhyme endearingly
And paint pictures with his words
Saying some of the nicest things
That were ever put into words.

Yes, he was Rhyming Ronnie,
A poem for any current thought.
You couldn’t stump him even once.
At least not that I ever caught.
Ryan was amazing for sure
And some found it rather vexing.
But oh boy in the internet age
It came in handy when texting!
Oct 2018 · 227
GOSSAMER RIBBONS
Brent Kincaid Oct 2018
You brought gossamer ribbons
To hang down into our lives
And scented candles, all around
Dancing, flickering before our eyes.
You sang lovely melodies to us
That I never had heard before.
Somehow just being yourself seemed
That you were a master’s painting
Done by some ancient admired guy.
Sometimes you left me almost fainting.

You urged us to explore and seek
New vistas and scenes near our home
And celebrate the people and places
We would discover when we roamed.
You caused this old stick in the mud
To become a wider wandering soul.
I’m fairly certain that was your plan,
Your vision, your wish and your goal.

It worked, I changed and became
A new and different kind of person.
I dance and celebrate life today
Dancing in life's gossamer ribbons.
It’s almost like watching a movie
That has won all the best acclaim.
You’re gone now, but I still dance
But I admit it’s just not the same.
Oct 2018 · 250
VOODOO DAYS
Brent Kincaid Oct 2018
These are voodoo days
When monsters have their way
With the good people alive
So the evil people can thrive.
This is a time when madness
Roams the land to pillage
And rename the boundaries
Of our fine global village.

Children once went to school
And we made sure they learned
What had happened to us all
When dissenting books were burned.
Then too many scary people
Got by with lying to us a lot.
They didn’t have us in mind,
And didn’t care what we thought.

So, their Halloween costumes seem
To only be visible to the eye
When you listen to their chants
Instead of just passing by.
If you listen closely to the words
And not just campaign speech,
You quickly see dictatorship
Is not far out of their reach.

When your friendly candidate
Starts sounding like a Mussolini
Standing up and calling them out
Does not make you a ******.
No, it makes you more of true
Patriot caring for your country
Than guys in expensive suits
Who only care about their money.
Oct 2018 · 361
HAMSTER-WHEEL HUMANS
Brent Kincaid Oct 2018
Many are hamster-wheel humans
So punch-drunk from assuming
They know the way things work.
The wealthy urged them to elect jerks
To run this country into the ground
And turn it into the worst place around.
It’s a sad tale, a ***** of a story
Where those with guts, don’t get glory.

It’s a horror story, like in scary flicks
Where when men in suits get their kicks
Imprisoning brown people and kids
And laughing about the bad they did.
Afterward, they say others are to blame
But make no attempt to hide their game.
They put thousands in jail and charge them
And sing out loud their lying anthems.

They say fake news is the real McCoy
But, the real news they say is a ploy
Honest people want to stop the plunder
That, up ’til now, they kept hidden under.
But now it’s in the open meant to appease
Ignorant white people that are hard to please.
They want whites in power, think that’s nifty,
No wonder they elect only those who are shifty.

Too many quit learning in school, after ABC,
And they have no use for the land of the free.
They liked how it was in eighteen hundreds
With slaves, inhumanity to those they plundered.
They got up in arms when a black man won
And the class war was once again begun.
The very rich told lies to change the rules
People began to act openly like rapacious fools.
This is the country of which we were once proud.
It’s right now being destroyed by the elite crowd.
Sep 2018 · 236
LITANY
Brent Kincaid Sep 2018
Yesterday and tomorrow
All in a memorable row
Happiness and sorrow
Always a few more to go.
Laughter and sadness
Marching through time.
Dealing out character
Each of us must find.

Lovers and some losers
Each kind had their say.
Whatever they did to us
Made us who we are today.
We all had to learn about
The liars and the thieves.
We taught ourselves not
To do what makes us grieve.

We learned to reward ourselves
For living and getting strong
Even when our history has
Gone quite suddenly wrong.
We are the ones who count
And must add up the score.
So, we are the wones who know
What our life has been for.

Whining does so little good
And makes others turn away.
It’s up to us to find the words
We need to hear and say.
So we do what we can in life
And deal with what we’re given
And learn we can't have it all
Wrapped up in a pretty ribbon.
Sep 2018 · 311
SALES PITCH
Brent Kincaid Sep 2018
(Nasally)
Ya say ya wanna look good?
Ya say ya wanna look young?
Ya say ya wanna take on the world again?
(clap)
Tell ya what I’m gonna do!
The secret is not in any little bottle.
No sir! Not a bit of it!
Step right over, friend.
I’m gonna tell ya the secret that works!
The Golden Key. The Fountain of Truth.
Yessiree bob! The Blessed Path. The open door!

Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired?
Do you pop out at parties?
Are you unpoopular?
(clap)
Do people turn off lights and hide when you come by?
Do some people refuse to return your calls?
Do you find yourself alone most of the time?
Are you under threat of being fired?
Are you sick of forgetting where you parked?
Do you wake up in the morning or come to?
Tell ya what I’m gonna do.
Step over here, friend.
I’ll give you the secret.
(There ya go, and when you get there, there ya are!)

Part of the problem is the solution.
You are drinking a solution that lies.
It says everything will be okay, if you drink.
Drink more. Yessirreebob! Recognize it?
(clap)
You take a drink or two after work and then…
It’s morning, you remember nothing, then
The whole shebang starts all over again.
You started out inviting people over
But, they used up your ***** and dope.
And there you were staggering
Down to the store to buy more
Struggling to write your name on the check.
But, what the heck. You were popular
But no more. All that is left is the store.

So, ya say ya wanna get better, fast?
Don’t put the cork in the bottle.
Throw the bottle away. Don’t buy more.
That’s the real score, the secret.
(clap)
You can’t have it both ways.
Either you wanna get better and live
Or you will keep on trying to give up
Without surrendering. It’s amazing.
You’ll feel like crap for a while
But you do now, and never smile.
(clap)
So, that’s the way it gets done.
It happens to everyone who wants
To get off the merry-go-round
And settle down to living, and smiling.
After you quit the daily drinking bit.
Sep 2018 · 6.9k
THE BIG LIE OF WAR
Brent Kincaid Sep 2018
Nobody marching toward us
Their guns making us die.
No tanks are come clanking
No bombers in the sky.
But our Congress and generals
When oil or bases seem needed;
We appear armed and threatening
Peace and love talk not heeded.

No country has attacked us
With troops and lethal artillery.
But our leaders expect us to
Go open up their arteries
And **** their women and children
And laugh while they all die
And we are expected to do this
And never think to ask why.

It’s almost like big companies
Were sad when WW2 ended
So they started attacking countries
We really should have befriended.
We let Russia have free reign
To **** and ****** and steal
Almost as if their aggression
Wasn’t really true or even real.

We looked around and made them,
Those evil old warlike excuses,
That some country threatened freedom
And we pretended they weren’t ruses.
We attacked Korea and Vietnam
We were just supposed to observe
That they were yellow people there
And think they got what they deserved.

We didn’t stop there, as Reagan took
A duly elected leader and put him in jail.
If any country did that to our country
The conservatives would howl and rail.
Then the Bushes tried their best to take
Iraq to steal their oil and punish them
And created an era of stronger hatred
And anti-American outrage and mayhem.

No foreign country has attacked America;
So, the point bears repeating once again.
We need to stop acting like bullies here
And start acting like decent statesmen
And women who have the bigger picture;
The growth of peace in our battered world
So, other countries will not take their guns
And shoot our flag when it’s unfurled.
Sep 2018 · 332
SENIOR STORY
Brent Kincaid Sep 2018
I’ve reached that age where I dodder
And when I forget becomes fodder
For impatience and often abuse.
I apologize but it’s seldom any use.
I have learned to smile and tip my hat
As I am now the oldster I once laughed at.
My face tells a story with every wrinkle
And it now takes me longer to ******.
I have to get up two or three times a night
Which means my kidneys aren’t working right.

Getting up from a chair is a three part thing
And I can’t do it without some moaning.
I’m very glad for a thing called remote control
Because it’s a saving grace for growing old.
I moved the coffee maker closer to my chair
So I don’t have to walk so far over there.
I’m thinking of swapping my end table in a smidge
To replace it with a my own personal mini-fridge.
That will save me even more trips over and back
By loading it with sodas and some clever snacks.

Now just in case some might think I’m *******,
I’m not, it’s just that my habits are now switching.
It another phase of living life, is all it means
Like switching to Sansabelt slacks instead of jeans.
I had plenty of fun when I was young and foolish
So, there is no sense of anyone getting ghoulish.
I’m full to the brim with carefully gathered memories
And a scant few of them could be called miseries.
Mostly I have been pretty much a happy kid
And now enjoy the wisdom from all I did.
Sep 2018 · 299
BUGLE BLOW
Brent Kincaid Sep 2018
My world today is upside down
When truth is lies and cheating;
When the country is run by a clown
Who wants to be beyond defeating.
When robbing the poor is fun
For those who don’t need money.
When taking sick people’s insurance
To the wealthy is something funny.

The world is thinking with it’s ****
If looking back to Nazis is correct.
We have the burden to protest this,
We have a society we must protect.
Some are badly uneducated now
Because we have lowered the bar
On what we teach our children today.
Yes, we have sunk down that far.

As a people, we don’t seem to care
About who is making our laws now.
The law is full of massive restrictions
But most of us have no idea just how.
How did they get there, these rules
That support the rich and corporations?
When did we become this leviathan
Of criminals running our fine nation?

So, what can we do, short of revolution?
Do we all march in the streets and strike?
Do we stop buying cars and houses
And go to work every day on a bike?
Do we boycott spending money at all
Until the crooks are cleared away?
And how do we tell good from bad
In the way things are slanted today?

We all must speak and write and demand
Of the current representatives elected
To look to the precedents we have had
Upon which our great country was erected.
We founded this country on equality
And promised freedom for us all.
We have the burden to see to it
That our government answers that call.
Sep 2018 · 305
FATUOUS INFATUATION
Brent Kincaid Sep 2018
I was hoping for sunshine
Instead you brought me rain.
I thought it would be all pleasure
But it ended up causing pain.
I wish you’d sung me love songs
That fell on my ears like psalms
Instead you turned away from me
And I had nothing in my palms.

I wanted to assuage my heart
That I would not be alone
But I seem to be a person who
Disgusts you to the bone.
I’ll never understand how you
Could turn from hot to icy cold
Somehow the love you felt at first
Quite suddenly got too old.

You no longer gently smiled at me.
And you found my jokes unfunny.
We began to live in cloudy skies
That never quite turned to sunny.
We both had misjudged the other
And things went south from there;
Made a wrong turn at Albuquerque
And I think I know just where.

It started when you realized
I’m not good at one-month stands.
You looked up and looked around
To see who else was at hand.
And since there are always those
Who date based on a guy’s looks
You became all hot and bothered
And I became one for the books.

One more notch on your pistol
A face to avoid on meeting.
One more victim of your game
That deserves no kind of greeting.
The good side of this story is
I am no longer under your spell.
I am going to move onward now
And let you sashay to hell.
Sep 2018 · 290
WHY, DADDY?
Brent Kincaid Sep 2018
Why are you leaving?
What did I do wrong?
Why are you not coming home,
Back with us where you belong?
You don’t hug me any more
You and Mom seem so mad
You’re always acting sore.
Have I done something bad?

Why, Daddy, why?
I don’t understand this.
It makes me want to cry.
That’s just how bad this is.
Why, Daddy, why?
Why can’t you two make up?
What happens to me then
If you two decide to break up?

When I am acting angry
You both hound me to ask
What is going on with me
Or you both take me to task.
You don’t let me be cranky
Without any explanation.
So, what on earth is different
In this family situation?

Why, Daddy, why?
I don’t understand this.
It makes me want to cry.
That’s just how bad this is.
Why, Daddy, why?
Why can’t you two make up?
What happens to me then
If you two decide to break up?

I want things to be back again
Like they were before all this.
I want to be rewarded often
With a kind word and a kiss.
I want to work hard in school
To bring home good grades.
But it doesn’t seem important
In this crazy mess you’ve made.

Why, Daddy, why?
I don’t understand this.
It makes me want to cry.
That’s just how bad this is.
Why, Daddy, why?
Why can’t you two make up?
What happens to me then
If you two decide to break up?

Mama says she hates it
That you want to go away,
And it hurts her to know you
Don’t need us both today.
She says you’ve changed now
And want to be more free.
That’s fine for you, I guess.
But what about her and me?

Why, Daddy, why?
I don’t understand this.
It makes me want to cry.
That’s just how bad this is.
Why, Daddy, why?
Why can’t you two make up?
What happens to me then
If you two decide to break up?
Aug 2018 · 622
THE PRESIDENT SHOWED ME
Brent Kincaid Aug 2018
The President showed me
I get to cheat and even lie.
And if I do wrong no one
Even gets to ask me why.
The President showed me
By not paying his bills
That being honest is stupid
And what’s important is my will.

I don’t ever even have to keep
Any promises I might have made.
He’s the President after all
And he has made the grade.
So why should I work hard
And pay for all I might get?
He has never done that before
And he hasn’t done it yet.

The President showed me
I get to get married some day
And still sleep with hookers
And be a good guy either way.
The President is a fat man
And sloppy when he dresses
So, why should I have to diet
And deal with laundry messes?

The President also demonstrates
It’s just fine to backstab friends
Because the business of being rich
Is where all friendships end.
The President must be good guy
He lives in a very fancy place
And how can someone that rich
Be a major public disgrace?
Aug 2018 · 321
ELQUENT LOSER
Brent Kincaid Aug 2018
For all my tales of braggery
I am the eloquent loser.
Out of thousands of choices
I will pick the ******,
The liar, the layabout or thief.
Then starts my florid tales
Designed to mask my grief.

I list the virtues of the guy,
The Prince Charming I caught
And talk about his attributes
None of which he has got.
I treat him like aristocracy
Even though he never works.
My friends wonder how I can
Align myself with such a ****.

So, that means more stories
To extoll his many talents
Even though he has so few
To brag about on balance.
I keep thinking my eloquence
Will overcome his character,
His many alluring facets
Or lack of which whatsoever.

It’s sad the lengths I have gone
Trying not to be so alone.
I have been accused of being
Like a dog with a favorite bone
In my attempts to justify
The awful choices I have taken.
But I don’t listen, I only talk
Any advice is all forsaken.

That’s how it goes with me
If I can explain things away,
Like Scarlett, I'll think about it
Maybe on some other day.
Maybe then I'll finally understand
Why I do what I always do.
But we eloquent losers don’t care
So very much what is true.
Aug 2018 · 1.9k
tRUMP, I CALL YOU OUT!
Brent Kincaid Aug 2018
I keep on telling the truth,
You know, like you never do.
I call you by name and say
All I say about you is true.
I wrote poems about you,
What the hell do you want?
You ignore all I have said
You ignore all my taunts.

I want you to sue me
Then with proof that you lie
The world can finally rest
And bid you goodbye
As they drag your fat ***
Off to Leavenworth jail
Where you won’t have Twitter,
Internet or even email.

I hope you get convicted
As the Corrupter In Chief
Because you are nearly
The worst kind of public thief.
You steal from the poor
And have kidnapped children,
And you  think your cowardice
Is a secret and is hidden.

Daily I hope someone intelligent
Will go sue you for defaulting
On the promises you made us
That have been obviously insulting.
You broadcast your hatred for us if we
Are not rich, perverted Republicans.
Now you are reversing all the good
That decent people have done.

I am ashamed of the millions
Who act like you are Jesus
When it’s as plain as your nose
You are like an obese Rhesus.
I’m sorry so many people are nuts,
Too weak-minded to recognize
What an **** fate for America
You are unveiling before their eyes.
Aug 2018 · 365
WHAT LOVE IS
Brent Kincaid Aug 2018
Love is not just about you
And surely not just about me.
Love never exists anywhere
Unless we’re both free.
It cannot be a prison
Where one holds the key.
Love is not just about you
And surely not just about me.

Love is never selfish
If so, it’s something different.
It may be lust or desire
But it is some other sentiment.
You might wish it to be love
But if it’s all about what you meant
Then it is something besides love
Caanot stand as its equivalent.

If you love someone you wish
They get all that is good for them.
You say prayers for their life
And then you say amen.
Because you wish them to have
All the joy there ever has been,
And when they get that, you wish
That it will happen once again.

So, how can it be love if you
Wish only what you may need?
How can it be love if it is
All about your own sense of greed?
Love is not just about you
And surely not just about me.
Love never exists anywhere
Unless we’re both free.
Aug 2018 · 254
BEFORE THE COLOR
Brent Kincaid Aug 2018
Watching black and white flicks
From nineteen thirty four
With overacting stars and
Rinky-tinky scores;
Heroines with painted lips
To make them twice their size
And everyone with black liner
Smeared around their eyes.

Those were the big old movies
After school in the afternoon.
There were even snappy teasers
That told us ‘coming soon”
But television was free to us
And movie shows expensive
So, my backlog memories became
Inclusive and extensive.

I still can name most of the stars
And even say the name of the flick
And name some supporting actors
And I can do it super quick.
Because that was the entertainment
In a family with no movie budget.
If a movie came on I hadn't seen,
You can be sure I would watch it.

Later TV went to color shows
And it truly made my life great.
I’d see a favorite was coming on
Like Wizard of Oz, I couldn’t wait
To see it in color! Well, at least
Once Judy and the house landed.
It was enchantment for sure
No matter how heavy handed.

But for a decade or more, I watched
And was perfectly content to see
And not have a clue about their hair
Or color that their eyes  might be.
For happy in a black and white world
Pleased the young, unspoiled me.
After all, those fabulous stars
Were there for greedy young me!
Aug 2018 · 257
BARBRA IS IN TOWN
Brent Kincaid Aug 2018
Oh, my god! Barbra is in town.
My family bought me tickets
And it knocked me on the ground.
I laughed and cried, my eyes went wide
I called my friends, and again I cried.
I’ve tried for years, but never had the dough
This time the dream came true, I get to go.

I know I’m acting like a kid, I don’t care
She’s coming here and I will be there.
I’ll buy a shirt and a program if they sell
I have money saved, so what the hell?
I’m going to be sitting in the same place
With her and that famous voice and face.
It’s not like she’ll be singing just to me,
But that won’t shut me up, just wait and see.

Barbra is coming to town!
No, I’m not messing around
Trust me when I say, it’s true.
She’s coming to sing to you
But, to me too, I can’t believe it!
And I can’t wait to sit and see it.

I know I’ll scream and holler like a loon
The moment she walks out, and it’s soon,
I won’t swoon, but I’ll probably cry again.
I’m sure there will be many other men
Who also find themselves tearing up too.
At her concerts, it’s a thing some of us do.
Unashamed, in front of everybody
We, laugh and clap our hands ******.
Laughing and hugging all around
Because Barbra Streisand is in town!

So, just pretend it’s a championship game
And all of us fans got dressed up and came
To root and holler for our favorite team
But well be applauding the ruling queen,
The star of stage and screen, and pop.
She’s the best and we’ll never stop.
For some of us, it’s a lifelong dream,
We don’t care how silly we may seem.
I doesn’t matter how old we all are
For decades she’s been the greatest star.

Barbra is coming to town!
No, I’m not messing around
Trust me when I say, it’s true.
She’s coming to sing to you
But, to me too, I can’t believe it!
And I can’t wait to sit and see it.
This already happened, but this is a chronicle of that wonderful moment.
Aug 2018 · 331
LOVE IS A GIFT
Brent Kincaid Aug 2018
You don’t need gift wrap
Tape or any fancy bows
It’s sometimes intangible
That’s just how it goes.
You can’t put in under the tree
Or hide it up in the closet
But the person you give it to
Will surely know they got it.

A gift can be hello and love
And sometimes goodbye
It can mean we’ll meet again
It speaks of the reasons why.
A gift is a token of one soul
To another, closing gaps.
A gift is a message of care
And maybe of hope, perhaps.

Some gifts can be lined up
On shelves for all to see
And others are invisible
But taken just as seriously
As a jewel you can hold on to
And feel it there in your hand.
Sometimes it’s a treasure
Only you can understand.
Aug 2018 · 251
COME DREAM WITH ME
Brent Kincaid Aug 2018
Come dream with me
Of a wonderful tomorrow
Where heartache and sorrow
Never come to stay.
Let’s make memories
And let’s make them come true
Through the efforts of we two
Then celebrate every day.

Come try with me.
We can make things better
If we work hard together
And fix whatever is wrong.
If we believe it
I know we can do it
There is no hill we can’t climb
If we just continue to remind
Each other as we go along.

We can reach for the highest goals
From the strongest part of our souls
Never have a moment’s doubt.
Take the chance with me
That even against strong opposition
We are truly in the best position
To face the problems and work it out.

Come dream with me.
Picture what we want to happen
And I know all the doors will open
And let us walk right on through.
Come walk with me.
Jul 2018 · 6.5k
AHM JESS SAYIN'...
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
It ain’t like ahm a teacher ner nuthin.
Ahm jess a regular person, nothin spayshul
Ah ain’t no docterr of rocket science
Ahm jess a working guy, and kinda playful.
Ah half tah admit, ah do get things wrong
And sometahms ah can make a big mess
But ah do have minny, minny good points
And ahm a rilly good person, irregardless.

But things like writin’ readin’ and
Readin’ writin’ and sech lack that stuff
Ah stopped carin’ ‘bout at twelve
‘Cause ah found it more than kinda tuff.
Ah mean, it ain’t lack ah ain’t never
Gunna need to know reedickaluss stuff lie cat.
Ahm jess gunna graduate and then
Ah’ll go to work with Dad and drahve a bobcat.

Ain’t nobuddy needs algebra for that
Er fer workin’ at the factory line ever day either.
And it sher ain’t like ahm a teacher ner nuthin.
Ahm jess a regular person, nothin spayshul
Ah ain’t no docterr of rocket science
Ahm jess a working guy, and kinda playful.
Ah half tah admit, ah do get things wrong
And sometahms ah can make a big mess
But ah do have minny, minny good points
And ahm a rilly good person, irregardless.

But things like writin’ readin’ and
Grammer and other sech borin’ stuff
Ah stopped carin’ ‘bout at twelve
‘Cause ah found it more than kinda tuff.
Ah mean, it ain’t lack ah ain’t never
Gunna need to know reedickaluss stuff lie cat.
Ahm jess gunna graduate and then
Ah’ll go to work with Dad and drahve a bobcat.

Ain’t nobuddy needs algebra for that
Er fer workin’ on a factory line ever day either.
Ah sherr don’t need it to work digging
Er runnin’ sewer lahns er plummin’ pipes neither.
So, folks can jess give up on tryin’
To turn me into some kinda egghead scholar.
After all, it was good enough for my dad
To go to work, and work hard to earn a dollar.
Jul 2018 · 3.5k
YOU MAKE ME FEEL...
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
Looking up, seeing you again
It makes me feel so tired.
Here you are to ruin another day
How can I ever be inspired?
Now every time I see you makes me wish I was blind.
Because you stimulate no peace of mind.

You make me feel
You make me feel
You make me feel
Like a ****** old woman!

Years ago, you and I ran aground
Wiping out on love's breakers
I tried to fix things, tried to wake you up
But all pleas fell on deaf ears.
Sometimes a couple can turn into a joke
Impossible to fix something so badly broke.

You make me feel
You make me feel
You make me feel
Like a ****** old woman!
(With apologies to Carole King, Gerry Gofflin and Aretha Franklin)
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
They claim to be Christians
But ignore the teachings of Jesus.
They say they are compassionate
But only say it to tease us.
They voted for Republicans
And let them steal what they want.
They stand behind Donald Trump
No matter the sins he flaunts.

They throw away the national rights
As if they are their own to give.
I swear some of my friends and family
Are too **** dumb to even live.
I am always surprised that they
Have not dumbed themselves to death
Because they don’t seem to have the brains
To figure how to take their next breath.

It’s easy to see my friends like that
And even easier to know em.
Just go back and re-read the title
And the words of this poem.

Yes, some are my family members, too,
And I saw what made them that way.
I couldn’t reason with them back then
And have no better luck even today.
It seems that some people are angry
That they weren’t born pretty and rich
So, they look at other people who have
And regularly call them a *******.

They never learned to enjoy what they have
Instead of ******* about what others got.
They see someone they were trained to hate
And they immediately get dangerously hot.
The problem is that these are the people
That turn into online haters and trolls
And sadly, every one of them shows up
And votes hatred and bigotry at the polls.

It’s easy to see my friends like that
And even easier to know em.
Just go back and re-read the title
And the words of this poem.

So, for that reason, if no other motivation
The rest of us need to get out and vote
Otherwise all of us will drop below the waves
From all being in the same sinking boat.
There is plenty of propaganda out there
A lot of us hidden under fake, paid names
That it doesn’t matter because in D.C.
Both of the parties are the very same.

Yes, its is said often, but if that were true,
Would the GOP spend so many billions
Making **** sure their reign never ends?
Because regardless of the claims made
Making America great doesn’t not depend
On taking money from the poor citizens
And giving it to the rich people in the end.

It’s easy to see my friends like that
And even easier to know em.
Just go back and re-read the title
And the words of this poem.
Jul 2018 · 425
TO CHRISTIANISTS
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
It’s your own book
But you don’t toe the line!
You ignore your own religion
But demand to control mine!
You deserve no credit
As far as I can see
Except that you excel
In blatant hypocrisy!

You wave your flags
And lionize the Old South
With things Jesus never said
Coming out of your mouth.
It’s almost like your mind
Is now permanently delirious,
Though you still demand that we
Should all take you serious.

Just like a guy in the local park
That seemed to suffer a mental pox,
The difference is, unlike that man
You don’t stand on any soapbox.
But both of you babble constantly
With precisely the same vanity
That the madness you spew
Should be accepted as sanity.

Neither of you care to understand
That spreading untruths can destroy
The wisdom of experience we have.
It blinds people to the precious joy
Of sharing love for love’s own sake;
Accepting people as blessed as you,
And as deserving of your good wishes,
Hoping their best dreams come true.
Jul 2018 · 279
YOU WOULD THINK
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
You would think
A fool who always lies
Would finally surmise
He is known to be unwise
In most other people’s eyes.

You would think
A snake in the grass
Would not have an ***
But it comes to pass
That some are all ***.

You would think
A pile of dog manure
Would smell himself for sure
And that would insure
To show that he's not pure.

You would think
A **** so full of hate
Would not aspire to be great
And instead would wait
Until humility reached his gate.

You would think
Being socially quite blind
No ability to be quite kind
Would someday soften the rind
Of almost any creep you’d find.

You would think
With so many tramps around
And unfunny political clowns
Someone would knock him down;
Teach him something on the ground.

You would think
Some lesson would be due
To give this reprobate a clue
And help him know what to do,
But that might never come true.
Jul 2018 · 416
IF YOU LOVE
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
If you love
The poorest moment
Makes you feel wealthy.
Your weakest movement
Will make you feel healthy.
You’ll count your blessings
As many as stars in the sky.
You’ll know you are fortunate
And you will know exactly why.

If you love
Your friends will not forget you,
Your memories will be joys to the end.
You will be the sunshine in life
To yourself and your beloved friends.
You will all gather to celebrate
Whenever you possibly can do it.
And those friends will stand the tide
Of reversal and see you through it.

If you love,
You will appreciate life’s many gifts.
The slightest gesture is like gold
If it is meant to wish you all the best.
The blessings age as you grow old.
You’re friends and family will smile
And shine the light of their eyes
Because you are before them and
Their love cannot be disguised.

If you love,
All that life can gather to give you
Will be magnificent memories of joy
That make you feel like you were a child
And had the gift of a wonderful toy;
One you had always wanted, or even
One you never had known was real.
But, if you love, you will have it all.
You will be glad of the love you feel.
Jul 2018 · 305
A RHYME ABOUT A CRIME
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
Little Po’ Beep was fast asleep
When poverty came and found her;
She never quite saw
The Republican laws
Crash all her hopes around her.
The Beep's favorite daughter
Felt that she oughta
Be able to salvage a bit
Of the life she had
Before things went mad
And went reeling to hell from the hit.

Little Po’ Beep felt the cost was too steep
For taking a nap when she’s tired.
She truly believed
At least a few of the thieves
Needed to be indicted and fired.
She would gladly affect
A wring of the neck
Of the jerks in Washington who ground her
Like so much cheap meat
Starving dogs wouldn’t eat
No help from the dumb peers around her.

Little Po’ Beep wished she could learn
Some way she could turn
The slick words from Congress against them.
She’d take all their assets
And kick them where they sat
Then show them some tar and some feathers.
She’d set up a rail
Outside of the jail
And ride them from town in bad weather.
Jul 2018 · 264
LITTLE PO' BEEP
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
Little Po’ Beep was fast asleep
When poverty came and found her;
She never quite saw
The Republican laws
Crash all her hopes around her.
The Beep's favorite daughter
Felt that she oughta
Be able to salvage a bit
Of the life she had
Before things went mad
And went reeling to hell from the hit.

Little Po’ Beep felt the cost was too steep
For taking a nap when she’s tired.
She truly believed
At least a few of the thieves
Needed to be indicted and fired.
She would gladly affect
A wring of the neck
Of the jerks in Washington who ground her
Like so much cheap meat
Starving dogs wouldn’t eat
No help from the dumb peers around her.

Little Po’ Beep wished she could learn
Some way she could turn
The slick words from Congress against them.
She’d take all their assets
And kick them where they sat
Then show them some tar and some feathers.
She’d set up a rail
Outside of the jail
And ride them from town in bad weather.
Jul 2018 · 278
ON THE LINE
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
Some walk the line
Between a woman and a man.
If god got a do-over
Would he do the same again?
Or would some afterthought
Bring about a badly needed change
That causes confusion
So some use the epithet “strange”?

How do people so often ignore
The amazing leaders and creators,
Proof they’ve been shown before
That different people can be world beaters.
People have cheered for decades
Those strong women who compete in sports.
For centuries men of feminine type
Felt they’ve needed to sink to life’s last resorts.

For no reason that makes sense
Parents have dealt unremitting hate to their kids.
Some of them take it personally
As if it is the result of something evil they did.
Demands were made unthinkingly
To change they way they had to behave
And too often the orders came from
The unsuccessful directives of “Jesus Saves”.

So here they are, suffering daily
The children who live as god made them
And society, for no good reason
Chooses to call them names and evade them.
There is nothing wrong with them
These beautiful people living on the line
Who act and live their lovely lives
The way nature has defined.
Jul 2018 · 328
LISTEN
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
Please listen.
Everybody makes mistakes.
Please don’t make me one of them.
It’s just one of life’s bad breaks.
Replay what I have told you again,
And listen, please listen.
Look into what I have said,
Let it play inside your head.

Please listen.
Listen to what I am saying
Instead of what you’re thinking.
Make me the song you are playing.
Then, listen, please listen.
Not what you think you heard.
Do listen closely to my words.

It is so very important
That you hear the content
It’s from my innermost heart,
It's what I think and pray
From my soul at the very start
And it will never ever go away.

So, listen.
It’s easy to stay half aware
Of what others have to share
And not quite care to hear
What their heart is crying out
The hopes they hold dear
That you could care about.

It is so very important
That you hear the content
It’s from my innermost heart,
It's what I think and pray
From my soul at the very start
And it will never ever go away.
Jul 2018 · 272
HALF A LOVE STORY
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
She wanted to be married forever
She learned she can’t do it alone
She conducted half her relationship
Sitting on the couch on the phone.
He was late or wasn’t coming home
Claiming he had to do some work.
Afterward she loudly berated herself
Calling herself a gullible ****.

Waiting for the phone to ring
Sitting beside the window.
Five more hours until dawn
Five more hours to go.

Knowing it was a tired old story
Many told too often before
It didn’t help her suffer any less
Or feel less bruised and sore.
It wasn't that he was beating her up
He was just lying to her face.
It still left her the victim of the tale
In love, abandoned and disgraced.

Fools do all the work in love
When their love doesn’t love them.
They spend their time waiting
As their hope of true love grows dim.

Her friends advised her early
That something was very wrong.
She fought and denied it every time
And ignored their advice all along.
She had a kind of storybook love
That was stuck inside her mind.
It seemed to render her virtually
Senseless, deaf and blind.

Waiting for the phone to ring
Sitting beside the window.
Five more hours until dawn
Five more hours to go.
Fools do all the work in love
When their love doesn’t love them.
They spend their time waiting
As their hope of true love grows dim.
Jul 2018 · 270
THE DANCE OF LIFE
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
Some people think I’m crazy
Because I sing and I dance.
In public and in private, too
I’m known to do it every chance.
I wiggle and I also cha cha
A bit of waltzing and the twist.
I hear a bit of music playing
And it’s just too hard to resist.

I dance to the music I hear
In the commercials on TV.
I boogie under the bright sun
And under the shading trees.
I dance in the morning too,
And in the evening light.
I can’t do it anymore, but
I used to dance all night.

I’ve danced in famous discos
And in seedy little taverns.
I’ve danced on top of bridges,
On mountaintops and caverns.
I’ve danced in my fancy clothes
And if the party could take it
I have even danced with great joy
Totally bare-assed naked.

Many of my older friends tell
Dancing will keep me young
And I’m fairly sure it will
Help me reach the next rung
On the long ladder of my life
From yesterday until tomorrow.
But I am just as sure it does
Chase away aging sorrows.
Jul 2018 · 221
TESTIMONY OF AGE
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
I’m slow when I walk now.
My eyes are getting rheumy.
I get crabby sometimes.
I know it. So sue me.
I only hope, when it’s time
That you remember this song;
That you have the fun I’ve had,
That you should live this long.

Being young wasn’t always
The basket of puppies was it?
Remember the growing pains
And all the things that cause it?
It requires that we persevere
And face things less than fun.
It starts right away in life
Well before the age of one.

Every age has it’s roadblocks
And sometimes its outrages.
Some politely refer to them all
As life in all of its stages.
There’s getting back on the bike
After we tumble and fall.
Rollerskating and sports, too.
We manage to learn from them all.

Age makes treasures of memories
And gold of the brass we once had.
The thing is to celebrate age too.
Applaud this stage and be glad.
Slow down when the old must walk
And have some good words to say.
And then walk behind them and smile
Because they are showing you the way.
Jul 2018 · 335
THE LOG IN THE EYE
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
It used to be fun, loving on the sly.
An exciting time, but I don’t know why.
What was so thrilling about it all then?
Nothing to be proud of. Not very zen.
Sneaking and giggling like a fool
Only proves to me now I was a tool.
But for those of me raised in that time
Being *** and ***** was a big crime.

Even now, many say they don’t mind it
But if I have to be ***, I must be quiet.
Don’t talk about my time with a guy.
If I have to do that, do it on the sly.
They invent unclever euphemisms
And further deepen the ****** schism
That says we are good and you’re not
At least according to the family I’ve got.

They’ll just wink and dig with an elbow
And that’s they way they want it to go.
Of course, even better, just don’t say
That you I am one of those, you know, ***?
We’ll all know stuff, we don’t want to know.
We won’t discuss your twisted shame, oh no.
We'll just gossip with each other about it
And none of us in any way will ever doubt it.

After all, the bible I didn’t read condemns it
So, even though more of society permits it
It really isn’t right, they condemn me to hell.
Oh, I have heard this lame tale that they tell.
Of course, I read that book and they’re wrong.
They changed the story as time went along.
But they’d know all that if they took a look
And actually read their religion’s book.

So, decades ago, I changed my thoughts
And now use on them what they have taught.
I nudge and wink and agree not to discuss
The crap they do and their errors about us.
I don’t ask them with who they are cheating
Or other Christian teaching they are defeating
By paying attention to the mote in my eye
By my love for a perfectly respectable guy.
Jul 2018 · 343
HER HUSBAND KISSED ME
Brent Kincaid Jul 2018
It happened in a hurry
At a joyous wedding party.
I didn’t know who he was
Just that he was hearty
And tall and very hot.
I was jealous of her
And the hot man she’d got.

The bride was not a friend,
But the friend of a friend.
I was the plus one that day
And I thought that was the end.
I’d watch the ceremony and
I’d go and smile and mingle.
It always makes me antsy
To do weddings when I’m single.

But, I sit and chat and smile
Wish them both the very best.
I do this quietly and quickly
Not being close like the rest.
So, when I went to the restroom
And the groom grabbed me
And laid a deep long kiss
I returned the favor gladly.

I usually don’t ***** with married
But this was a great big surprise
To get kissed by a tall hunk
With hot burning lust in his eyes.
I have no idea what was up
With the bride's new Mister
But I can testify for absolute sure
He was one hella righteous kisser!
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