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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?
Brandon Conway Jul 2018
You found me broken and in a mess
You came in as if a traveling salesman
You knocked on my chest to see if it was vacant
You didn't take no for an answer
You sold a potion I desperately needed

Your compassion and love healed and rebuilt
Your hands reassemble this skeletal mess
Your eyes saw the best of what was inside
Your teeth and tongue assuaged  
Your body so titillating

Time passes

I no longer need the product that you were so adept at selling

Always one step ahead
In order to sell more
I had to break down

You secretly created tragedy
You shakespearean
You left me the way I was found
You came knocking again
You charlatan

A fool and his money eh?
Or is it me that is selling a product?
Brent Kincaid May 2018
Donald Twittler, not a pretty picture
Sees himself as some kind of king.
Makes constant promises,
Doesn’t know what integrity is,
His word really doesn’t mean a thing.
Donald Twittler reveres Adolf ******
Wants a Nuremberg rally of his own.
He craves mass adulation
From a battered nation
From the mistakes that are his alone.

Donald Twittler phones from the *******
Rages  online in the middle of the night.
Each complaint anyone makes
He claims they’re all fakes
As if he's ever known wrong from right.
Donald Twittler, the personification of a drifter,
Has no relationship with the truth at all.
Don’t bother asking why;
He’s the best his Dad could buy,
And he’s never had to be on the ball.

Donald Twittler, a slimy sort of critter
Gets climaxes from national attention.
He has never had morals;
Buys his way out of quarrels,
If he had a soul it’s far beyond redemption.
Donald Twittler, thinks he’s better than ******
And we should all kiss his big fat ***.
More than half of us disagree
And urge him to quickly flee
Because most of us would just as soon pass.
Autumn Lewis May 2018
All the people that surround me that suffocate my insecurities  
None of them with new faces just worn and weathered obscurities
Just to notice that I'm here is to much for them to bare
They point and judge and leave no one to spare
I can't wear the mask they put on me
I took off the shackles now I'm free

No longer will the past taught my mind
I see now without blinders but with this I see the genuine people are scarce to find
I hope you will not be afraid because I'm not
To everyone who sees through the facade others put on
Brent Kincaid Apr 2018
He has a degree in bait and switch
He’s a devious, deceitful sumbitch;
He’s a human hound dog,
A trash talking fat hog,
Ready with a phony smile
And he has been for a while.

Happily taking britches off of *******
If she’s not too fussy with her *****;
Because by gum and dagnab.
That’s the first thing he’ll grab.
As crazy as a lifelong ******
He thinks a nice guy is a loser.

He reverses what he says each day
And if you catch him he’ll always say
He blames it on Obama and Jews,
On Democrats and fake news.
He changes his mind on a whim
Thinks nobody is as good as him.

We need to mention how ugly he got.
His appearance seems to be all rot.
He’s made of pure grease
That keeps him so obese
Still he claims he is as trim
As guys half the size of him.

He got started by his daddy’s dough
Back a flashy half century or so
He has very little taste
Most of his life was a waste.
Every business he touches
Ends up walking on crutches.

Why is his image with so secure?
He’s not a decent man for **** sure.
An adulterer and a predator
Treats his wives like competitors
Who are blocking his limelight
And should be hidden from sight.
Brent Kincaid Apr 2018
Loosey goosey, Gary Busey
Makes more sense than you!
What do you see, big kaboosie?
What would Vladdy Putin do?

Fussy wussy, presidential woosy
Tell a whole buncha more lies.
Flappy *****, big **** slappy
The best your money buys.

Choppy woppy, never stoppy
Even when caught on tape.
Shouty, pouty, tough it outy
Completely out of shape.

Fleecer, squeezer, ugely obese
Shadow of your youth
Ripoff, tipoff, always lipoff.
Incapable of truth.

Heapy cheapy, never sleepy
Won’t pay your own bills.
Brainless pain, runaway train,
All your ideas can ****.

Neego, peego, bloated ego
The little kids you scare,
Shard, pard, big tub of lard,
As attractive as your hair.
blind faith
lead them to believe
in a charlatan
like moles they were
to the false god

they were following
he who had nothing
of the Messiah's
tangible fabric

never did it dawn
on them
that he was selling
a religion based
on disrepute
none of his disciples
being overly astute

and still they're listening
and still they're standing
with his stead
and still they can't eye
the paucity of street cred
Brent Kincaid Aug 2017
The Talking **** is babbling
He’s not quite capable of reason.
He’s busy patting his own back
Every day, every month and season.
The Talking **** is assuming
As usual that we can’t think.
But we know for a certainty
That a talking **** still stinks.

The Talking **** is promising
All the miracles he will perform.
He’ll take credit from others
After all, that’s his norm.
He’ll put down the good efforts
Of those who came before
Who actually did the good work
While he worked on his golf score.

The Talking **** is not required
To make very much good sense.
He has his Nazis beside him
And a crowd of the politically dense.
He says what he knows pleases
Those who are not quite bright.
He chants the hateful dogma
Adopted by fools on The Right.
Brent Kincaid Jan 2017
I’m not going to make money by
Creating some clever gadget.
That costs too much for advertising
To fit in my future budget.
I’m not going to write a book yet
Because they are hard to sell.
I decided against self-help seminars.
Sitting through those is hell.

I’m not going to learn hairdressing
So I can be a pricey hair ******.
I’m not going to write recipes to show
A hundred ways to use a blender.
I ruled out auditioning for **** flicks
I’m far to shy for all that.
I won’t be trying to make viral videos
Of adorable fuzzy little cats.

You won’t be hearing any hit songs
Written by me, myself and I.
I can’t carry a tune and can’t rhyme
So, right away I won’t even try.
I can’t paint and I can’t draw at all
So, I won’t be a world-class artist.
I won’t become a rocket scientist
In math I was never the smartest.

I'm not going to start some con game
And leave them all in the lurch.
Well, in a manner of speaking I am,
Because I'm starting a church.
I’ll spend tons of money on my home
And make a big flashy cathedral
Then spend lots of time bragging
How it’s all so very spiritual.

People will send me lots of cash thinking.
That will get them into heaven.
I’ll make more money selling God to them
Than owning a thousand 7-11s.
I’ll only need to convince my followers that
I have the get-out-of-hell-free card;
That I am the path to understanding God
And that just can’t be that hard.
Brent Kincaid Nov 2016
Do you see that devil up there
With the carefully arranged hair?
Do you believe he cares about you?
Don’t. Not a word of it is true.
He is selfish and all he cares about
Is what he can get for himself
No matter what his followers shout.

Doesn’t the fact that he chooses
To berate, ridicule and scorn
Serve to set up a huge red flag?
Why doesn’t that  serve to warn
That you are in the presence of
An evil not seen for a lifetime?
Why aren’t you all looking around
For someone to throw you a lifeline?

I am sure Reagan taught you that
Movie stars can be President
And you have revered for years what
Turned out to be a sad precedent.
But now you have doubled your error,
And you have all fallen with certainty,
Under the bewitching spell of a
Creature with nothing but celebrity.

So, wake up children, if you all will
Because this time you go to far.
You have literally hitched your wagon
To what amounts to a falling star.
He lies, he cheats, he molests and swears
And worst of all, none of you cares.
You tells yourself you are a righteous soul
Then bow to the devil with the orange hair.
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