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Brent Kincaid May 2015
I used to live in a country
That was based on liberty
And where just anybody
Could achieve prosperity
That with assured equality
And working diligently
One could expect definitely
To succeed economically
If you saved all the money
Left over from your salary
To save to bring your family
A step closer to solvency.

Not an impossible proposition,
It was based on the condition
Of a grand national institution
Which promised that stabilization
By taxing us and corporations
With an equitable correlation
Between folks of humble station
And the larger organizations
Working in happy syncopation.
A welcome feeling of elation
Would descend upon our nation
And keep us from stagnation
Or going into nationwide deflation,
Or just as scary, a huge inflation.

Now I look upon our history
And see decades of misery
Laid upon us by calumny
By those meant to fortify
And build up our security.
The constant forces of calamity
If we accept less than probity
From those who have no honesty
Choosing leaders based on beauty
A national cult of personality
Then permit political chicanery
By people with no dignity
Only a greedy criminality
That pretends to propriety
And a devout base of spirituality
When what we have is actually
A kangaroo court of dishonesty
Without a care for the citizenry.
Madzq Apr 2015
The air was crisp and clean and clear,
The huntsman knew his time had come.
He gathered all equipment and gear.
Then shined and polished his gun.
He took a step, his boots polished black.
To his tiny little wife he blew a kiss back
Off, he was, to capture his prized buck.
She waved goodbye wishing him luck.

He got to his post, stood there and waited.
Patiently, with his traps he had baited.
For a time he remained quiet and still.
This kind of game was his kind of thrill.
Lo and behold, with rage and adrenaline
A perfect opportunity made its rise.
He steadied his rifle, an expert marksman.
He shot the young buck between its eyes.

In a moment it was done
And the huntsman had won.
The poor creature had no chance to fight.
It had fallen to the earth
No cry made it's birth
A silent victim in the night.

Time had come for homebound journey,
With the sun setting on both heads.
Only one of them back with family,
The other became family's dread.
The huntsman took his brand new trophy
And hung high the brown skinned creature.
Hand in hand with his wife he stood boldly
"I was the one to end this ******."
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
epictails Apr 2015
A mist withers our eyes
From a destructive what is
Cloaked by the manipulation of fear
The obsessive consumption of greed
The yield of inequality
Blessing the treacherous snake
that is society
Protecting the overbearing tower of hierarchy

We are the rising hope
and the colossal downfall
Of an era so entrenched with fools' promises
and wicked minds
It is not anymore righting a wrong
so much as righting a system of wrong
Once a system of good
Which should have foretold better times
Meant to have put everything in place
But has left in its wake
A black hole that took everything
Right in all of us
In everything worth believing, worth hoping
The kind of thoughts and poems that come to me while I'm in the shower
Palaver Feb 2015
A is for Austerity
To pay back the Bank
For the Collateral
On your defaulted Debt

That exploded Exponentially
Like the financial Fiasco
Of the Grecian Governments
Indebted to ******'s Homeland

Return to Investors
The rent on your Job
Capital is their Kingdom
The laborers are Landless
Misers enslaved to Misery

The N
Rhianecdote Jan 2015
Do you know what sums up the dark side of capitalism perfectly?
A Banks steps on a cold night occupied by a homeless lady.
That's what I saw tonight and it hit me.
The sheer juxtaposition pushed home the level of inequality
we see daily and walk past...
Thought of Marx
" There's something rotten at the core of a society that increases its wealth without diminishing its misery"
and believe me I'm no ******,
but it was eerie.
To put it simply
I worry for and care about *humanity.
“The True Measure of Any Society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members” – Ghandi
Jeff Holland Jan 2015
The fasces in my heart calls for those,
who would poison the earth beneath me,
who would sully our blood and the blood ,
that God himself did give
who would call off the hunt,
that my father and fathers before me partook,
who would make that grand wolf a sheep,
who would try and satiate what we know is true,
who would try to commit nature's crime,
who would make things inequal, equal.
To those who have been called, we come for you.
Death to Marxists, Death to Egalitarians
Naomi Sullivan Jan 2015
Civil disobedience is not a moral obligation. Moral obligation is an act of belief and self values. So if you feel the need to break a little law to fight for what you believe in , then yes, go for it, but obeying the laws may also be part of your morals. After all the police brutality that we have heard about on the news, some people decided to stand up and protest. Even I wanted to protest downtown because I found it absolutely ridiculous that people were being killed without extreme cause by police and they only got a slap on the wrist. There are always two sides to a story. So am I obligated to rally because of inequality displayed on the media? No, not really but due to my values I would love to. "But through the other method of combating injustice, we alone suffer the consequences of our mistakes" which was said by Ghandi. It can be applied to the protests, to me it means we can scream our opinions and we can make an impact, but some will be damaged and some will be arrested in the process. Sadly, the thing we were fighting for in the first place will be served and protected. So what is justice? What is civil obedience when our enforcement can't even comply? I guess we aren't obligated to anything.
School paper woohoo
Chase Graham Nov 2014
Would he still feel comfortable
in brooks brothers felt trousers or those loafers
with golden ornamentation or with pale white
business cards being traded between moisturized

fingers. With hands clutching a cold metal
pole on the subway and swaying to coltrane
from his headphones would he still trade glances
with the woman in good humor whites with two

black babies and a clear tub of windex and fresheners
and rubber yellow gloves. Or just stand tall and straight
and rigid and lifeless and keep his eyes
on the black floors and the loafers
and the illuminated emails shining from his palm.

With a newer suit and pay raise and the snarling of his new office and the desk with his middle aged secretary, would he still treat her kindly and keep her father's cancer in mind or instead, (next month), ask for a younger blonder girl from a better school (and bigger ****),
after the man finally makes his seven figures.
Matthew Harlovic Nov 2014
As horrid as it seems,
society cannot exist without inequality.

©  Matthew Harlovic
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