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Brent Kincaid Apr 2015
Sometimes it’s like a magic trick
And suddenly someone is there.
It’s like you’ve known each other
But can’t remember just where.
But quickly thinking is not the thing.
Instead it’s feeling that matters.
Your lifelong fear of heartbreak
And trusting suddenly shatters.

The two of you find yourself
Talking like long-lost friends
And before you even know it
Something wonderful begins.
Looking into each other’s eyes
And it seems to mean so much.
It feels like warm caresses
But you haven’t even touched.

As the evening goes on, joyously
Enjoying laughing and walking.
Then the time has finally come.
You find you need to start talking.
“Now that we have met each other
Won’t you stay just one more hour;
Just be here close together
And let this romance fully flower?”

It’s just that simple, just that easy
For the love affair to get its start.
Two people you were before now
Have become just this one heart.
Everything seems to have changed.
The air is fresher somehow.
The lights are brighter, the colors too.
The world is just perfect now.

Brent Kincaid
4/25/2015
Brent Kincaid Apr 2015
I never feared the monster hiding
Sliding out from under my bed
To grab me by the head and drag me
Into some dark, dIngy vicinity.
I had the real thing to fear. We all did
And it only hid when other adults saw.
The fear would gnaw at me forever
And I felt it would never let up.
A couple of times I felt I would die
Because I tried to stop it; to cry
To beg, to wheedle, to quake.
But I could not shake her hold.
I wasn’t all that old, but I began
To plan. I did her household chores
But she wanted more; laundry,
Preparing the meals she completed.
Defeated, I knew it was no good.
I had done everything I could.

I remember it. Oh, yes. Clearly.
Nearly every scene resonates
Grates and whips me relentlessly
Just as hard, and painfully as she
Whipped us; me and my brothers
Not acting like a mother, but mad.
Not so much angry as insane.
She was the bane of our existence
With no diluting of that phrase.
And it was not a phase, it was there
When we were home, alone
With her when she indulged her rage.
To that stage when she could not stop;
Not turn back and be the caregiver.
I still shiver. I feel the belts or sticks
Stripe across my back or my legs
When, begging, I tried to stop her;
Threaten to call the cops or something
But nothing worked since Dad was a cop.

The cops or the county would come by
When a nearby neighbor called on her
But when they heard our name, they stopped
And since Dad was a cop, they dropped it
And would sit and ask us in front of her
Whether she was beating us or whatever.
Never would we rat her out because
The claws would come out when they left
And she’d heft whatever she used on us.
And fussing and crying only made it worse.
Once a nurse turned her in to the school
And some fool from the county dropped by
To write down Mom’s lies and ask us again
In front of the woman from the welfare
And we were too scared to tell the truth.
We were in the beginnings of our youth.
How could we defeat a monster that knew
Where and when we slept. What could we do?
Brent Kincaid Apr 2015
I used to like you when you were dumb.
Then you smartened up and it pains me some.
You question almost everything I say.
You use these big words almost every day.
You really are making my brain cells hum.

You used to be **** when you talked.
You had this trampy twist in the way you walked.
You did everything I told you to do.
Now you want to try things that are new.
And at that, baby, I just have to balk.

I really do prefer the way you used to be.
You made sure to do things that pleased me.
Dinner was always right on time,
And serving leftovers was a crime.
Now meals are not the way they should be.

I used to be breadwinner around here.
That was one thing that was totally clear.
I gave you a weekly allowance to spend.
None of this going out for drinks with friends,
Now you have a job and sometimes you’re not here.

I think the cause of this is all this reading.
You think you’re getting smart is misleading.
You are getting a different attitude
And I think a lot of them are rude.
There are some basic truths you aren’t heeding.

So you should put the Bible on your list.
As a matter of fact, I really do insist.
It tells you I am the important one
And you are just a planet to my sun.
So it isn’t God’s will that you resist.

Brent Kincaid
4/24/2015
Brent Kincaid Apr 2015
He was sitting on a fencepost
A mouth harp in his hand
He started making music
Like a ghostly rubber band.
He called me a stranger
And, I asked him how he knew.
He raised his head and stared
And seemed to look me through.
He said:
There is nothing down this highway
But heartbreak and a tale
Nobody will friend you here
There’s nothing good for sale
We are here with no way out
So move right on away
You only have your freedom
If you don’t let yourself stay.

Some people think it’s heaven
‘Cause they never had a chance
They never had a friend before
A storybook romance.
They made some stupid choices
Now there’s a piper to pay.
They’re deaf to rhyme or reason
No matter what you say.
Some believe they never had
The character to change,
That they were born without a dream
The hopeless and strange.

But we know lonely backroads
That never reach the bay.
We live in fogs of memory
Here in Futile Quay.
Where once we were children;
Now we never smile.
Our trip down this highway
Is a never-ending mile.
So go on back to comfort
To security and plans.
Stay too long in Futile Quay
You’re out of fortune’s hands.

Brent Kincaid
10/22/2010
I am extremely proud of this poem which I hope will someday be a song. I hope you enjoy it too.
Brent Kincaid Apr 2015
If I had a nickel for every each and every Republican lie
Guess how many congress men and women I could buy.
I could buy another country and then I could use it to
Put all those Republicans in. I would. Wouldn’t you?

I could work with medical science people
To make a vaccine legal in court
That would make all the legal criminals
Wake up just three or four feet short
And green and purple spots on them
To make them all immediately stand out.
Then, when we saw one of them in public
We could point at them and loudly shout.

If we could somehow get back from them
All the time they have wasted each year
We could give it all to people who now
Live without hope, and only have fear.
We could legalize prostitution as well
And make them all perform as doxies.
But, who would want to make it with them?
So, they would have to hire some proxies.

We could do the same with lobbyists
And others who bribe representatives.
And we could quadruple the taxes owed
On them and all their pensioned relatives.
We could make the remove graffiti marks
Off of all our defaced walls and things.
Then, we could make them work fast food
And try to live by cooking onion rings.

If we could make that stuff from that movie
That made liars tell nothing but the truth
We could sniff these evil ******* out
While they are still in their stinking youth.
We could penalize their parents too
For miseducating them so very badly.
But there is no such magic potion
And I make that statement sadly.

Brent Kincaid
4/22/2015
Brent Kincaid Apr 2015
Backstabbing, double-talking
Collection of crooks and creeps.
Oily tinhorn picks the pockets of
The common man while he sleeps.
Corkscrewing rhetoric
The worst you have ever heard
Spoken so that in the end there is
No meaning to the words.

Sidewinding viper’s nest;
No warning rattles on their tails
Criminals being paid too much
That really should be in a jail.
Four-flushing deck-stackers
Two friends and a stranger.
Dressed in thousand dollar suits
All unrecognizable danger.

Mean-spirited jerkwads
Blather daily on my teevee.
Cutpurses and footpads.
Mostly all the same to me.
Dressed up nice and talking
Smooth like a baby’s ***.
Don’t expect me to vote for you.
No thank you, I will pass.

Gutter crawling, bile spewing
Butter won’t melt in your mouth.
Carpetbagging, underhanded
Favorite sons of the Old South
And some forked tongued Yankees
Siding up with traitors and smiling.
Glad-handing, baby kissing liars
Notoriously, falsely beguiling.

In case you find me too subtle
With my message to you and your crew.
There isn’t a whole lot to recommend
Anyone with wisdom to like you.
The only positive use for you
That one can readily foresee
Is to serve as a shining example of
What a politician should never be.


Brent Kincaid
4/21/2015
Brent Kincaid Apr 2015
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
Brent Kincaid Apr 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.
Brent Kincaid Apr 2015
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
Brent Kincaid Apr 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
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