Rap is crap
Can be written while napping
By simply slapping words like zapping
Up alongside trapping and wrapping
And suddenly you’re a rap star
Driving an expensive car
And before your coffee is cold
You are draped with gold
Maximum bling
But it doesn’t mean a thing
Other than money because honey
If your ‘song’ lyrics are still known.
When ten years are blown by
And you are no longer a famous guy
Whose words are forgotten
It is because they are misbegotten
And liked by the current batch of airheads
Who think this is music when instead
It’s a beat they can feel in their feet
And if they don’t read the words
Printed in the album, what is heard
Is a lot of screaming and percussion
Not worth discussion in Billboard.

Someone could cut the microphone cord
And all anyone could hear would be drums
And the audience spilling their beer,
And nothing worth humming;
Lyrics for the dumbing down of the race,
A major entertainment disgrace
That destroys the ears and means nothing
That will ever be revered like Sinatra
Elvis or The Beatles have done.
It may be number one today
But when time passes away
It will be nothing but the shouts
Of a bunch of untalented louts
To an audience one has to fear
Was born with a tin ear.

Brent Kincaid
6/1/2015

I hate you,
stupid mind of mine.
Why can't you let me go out and shine?
Instead,
You'd rather hold me back in the past.
All I want, is for these thoughts to end at last.

Maybe I'm different
For I am the king of arogance

I have no idea
what I feel anymore
I don't understand why
I seem to be the way I am

I no longer can
tell what emotion is
even if I could feel any, and
none of it cares to make sense  

I want to be near
other people and feel as
they feel for myself, to know I
still can and connect with them

But I'm constantly feeling
disconnected from myself and
regardless of what happens to me
I'll always feel as though myself is slowly
pulling away

This poem is thumping like a boulder
at the bottom of a river
And last year’*****
is fighting static on the radio

We sat against the waves
all day yesterday
I still feel the rocking
That anti-movement

The best part of a meal is right when the food arrives
I’d rather stay hungry than be satisfied
to stop wanting
to stop chasing

I sleep on the ground
to be farther away from you

the whole time we were stock images
choreographed feelings
unrealistic props
and a well timed photographer

Now we’re stopping in yesterday’s parking lot
and today’***** has turned jarring.
They’ll be running our circles
long after we die.

I made a dozen
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
before my mother came home
and took the knife out of my hand

I’m running to you
like you’re a pint of Ben & Jerry's
and I'm lactose intolerant

It stays in my mind
like choking on medicine

It’s like that pregnant silence
when the waiter asks
“together or separate?”

It’s like driving up a mountain
or criticizing the lack of representation in a Hallmark movie
alone from my couch.

There’s nothing poetic about stalking you on twitter.
but it’s part of the story so here’s a stanza about it anyway.

[Pause for effect]

I hope next time we meet
you’ll ask me how I am
I’ll tell you I am super
and both of us will believe it
again

I hope one of us will smile and say
“0ne day”
and the other will notice the typo.

Algebraic equations
and English lessons.
Another world war
and gene expression.

"You'll need this in life"
teachers lie to us all.
Get good grades
and don't get pushed around the halls.

School is jail.
They keep us locked up.
Our parents leave us for the day,
a small promise of safety is enough.

I want to breathe,
Breathe in the night,
Ice/fire burning/freezing
My lungs.
Steam and snow expelled in a puff.

I want to breathe,
breathe in the smoke.
Musty sharpness,
Life giving death,
Death giving life,
a second chance at comfort,
A witch's funeral pyre.

I want to see,
To watch the stars,
slowly meandering about,
vital duties forgotten in their paths,
Darkness in the light,
Light in the Darkness.
Enlightenment found in the void,
Tiny pinpricks showing everything
n
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