We were all raised on lies.
Santa Claus, God, Democracy,
all known to be untrue,
in the hearts of even the most earnest
mommies and daddies,
almost certainly untrue, all of it,
as they fed us, the society of lies,
one spoonful at a time into our innocent mouths.

Every mommy and daddy learns why,
as their guilty hearts realize why truth
can’t be told to the glistening, trusting eyes
of their most precious spawn.

Eat up, my dear thing.  Maybe
you’ll find someone else to help share
your burden, maybe to love.
Live long, and watch them all die,
Watch your every labor crumble and blow away,
just in time for all your precious memories
to rot in the ground.

The heart dares not tell the truth, even to itself,
dares not invite the question no
mommy or daddy is prepared to answer:
Why?  Why did you create me in such a world?
Because I wanted someone young to fetch me things.
Because my life was empty.
Because that’s what mommies and daddies do.
Because I’ll die first, so it’s safe to love you.

Dad and Mom were supposed
To protect me from monsters
Hiding under my bed, and
Of course many, many others.
It is so much scarier now that
I don’t know who to trust
I thought it had to be you two.
As parents are surely just.
But, it isn’t true, I know
As my parents don’t care.
They burn me with cigarettes
And lift me by my hair.

I am scared about tomorrow
Based upon my today.
If I think I am safe for a moment
It is sure to go away.
There is nobody to protect me
From those who mean me harm.
There is no place I can trust
There is no place safe and warm.

And late at night when sleeping
And one of them comes in.
They have a frightened animal
In a tiny, unsafe pen.
One of you hits me, I am a temptation.
The other touches me privately.
It’s an unwelcome sensation.
But I am too young to tell you
That you should go away.
It’s enough to ruin my sleep
And fear the end of day.

I am scared about tomorrow
Based upon my today.
If I think I am safe for a moment
It is sure to go away.
There is nobody to protect me
From those who mean me harm.
There is no place I can trust
There is no place safe and warm.

Brent Kincaid
4/18/2015

Lately
          Distracted
Forgotten thin line
       between
                 life
       between
                Death
The Doctor gently pulls
      a small ball of
        wax and skin and scar
      and says
        you are the
             toughest kid
Does he know?
          You are
     And now this
          2 year
     journey is
      over
     Do you know
          Do you remember
               as I'm
                   pulled back
                to Reality

I share my wife and bed with another guy
They look into each others' eyes and with love they sigh
It's not easy, but there is so much love
And support from the angels and devas above

It is a challenge, we are all full of desires and need
We share laughter, massage, mystery, and games
With careful, open eyes we proceed

In the morn sometimes she's exhausted from their labors of love
I serve her a fruit shake, creamy and cold
And we listen, dazed to the morning dove
As the sun rises, hues of bronze and gold

Some may think a ******* is the cat's meow
An exciting adventure of discovery, and how!
But there's a lot of homework on this path of old

Even if the other guy is only eight months old!
Even if it's all about lactation
Not *******
It's still a path to walk where so many riches unfold!

LITTLE BABY LULLABY

Poor little baby
Your Daddy doesn’t care.
He’s still around someplace
But we don’t know where.

Hush little baby
Your Mama doesn’t care.
She ran off with someone
From the Renaissance Fair.

Precious little baby
Light in someone’s eyes
We pray that your parents aren’t
Immune to all your cries.

Annoying little baby
Your country doesn’t care.
Go find your food and drink
But find it all elsewhere.

Boohoo little baby
Your teachers don’t care
They have tests to pass out.
No time for them to share.

Lonely little baby
Jesus is your savior
As long as you truly are
The right and proper flavor.


(Repeat until it is no longer accurate.)

Brent Kincaid
3/30/2015

Dad made a kite
Out of paper and wood
And a white, ripped up sheet for a tail.
We all watched with wonder when without any wind
He could make his kite rise up and sail!
The trick, he would tell us
Is to run just a bit, then let the string play out just so.
There is wind up above us that you cannot see
It will make the kite rise up and go.

Up went his kite
High up over the trees
And soon it was up with clouds.
It dipped, skipped and twirled as he tightened his rein
“It’s DANCING!” we shouted out loud!
The kite, he would tell us
Responds to your touch, don’t hold it too loose or too tight.
Be forgiving, yet firm, let it fly by itself
And most times it will turn out all right.

Dad gave the kite
To the youngest child there,
And the rest of us waited our turn.
The kite soared, then collapsed; our confidence too
Dad taught; we attempted to learn.
Life, he would tell us
Is like flying a kite, you hold on but you cannot control.
Don’t let a failure or lack of success
Stop you from reaching your goal.

Be like the kite
Reach as high as you can
Set your goals high, and dance with the clouds!
Respect and remember the wind you can’t see.
It’s your Faith that will make others proud.
Faith, he would tell us
Is the courage to fly, and belief in a Presence unseen.
But most of all Faith is the strength to go on
When your kite gets stuck high in a tree.
PwL 3/30/15

Family quarrels are bitter things. They don't go according to any rules. They're not like aches or wounds, they're more like splits in the skin that won't heal because there's not enough material.
F. Scott Fitzgerald

---

I keep you in a book,
Tucked away in the top drawer
of my night stand
I flip through
from time to time
when I can't sleep
when I can't read
when the words don't come
as quickly as the morning does

You're a grain of rice.
Now you have a face.
A hospital bracelet
Boy, 7/27/2011, 10:15am
Folded up in a plastic sleeve
You're dressed like Santa
For your first Christmas

We have the same smile

In this one I'm leaning forward
and your arms and legs
dangle in the air
We were at the park
You loved the flowers and bushes,
the butterflies and birds that
scattered as I pushed you along
The path

The book isn't full,
A plaid patterned
sticky note
shaped like a heart reads
"More to come soon."

Night after night,
book after book,
Crumpled page after crumpled page,

the morning comes.

To cook something beautiful
You need a few unsightly ingredients.
Like to make a cake
You need flour and baking soda
Baking powder, sugar, and a hint of salt
Water and eggs.
They aren't appealing to look at
By themselves
Or even when mixed together.
But when handled right,
And with a little time
Love and care
An oven and a spatula
You conform them into exactly the right shape
And those unsightly ingredients become
A tasty treat,
But what's a cake without frosting?
It's something bigger than what it was.
It's a combination
The frosting makes it more
Visually appealing,
It masks the overly cooked
Side.
Some air pockets from
An inexperienced
Or careless chef.
It's masks imperfections.
You can't force a cake to become perfect.
It needs time,
it needs love,
it needs care.
Dare I say it again,
It needs time,
It needs love,
It needs care.
When the cake
Gets those, and is left alone
To bake,
To think about what it's job is,
To not just be beautiful
Covered in frosting
But without it as well,
You'll have the best ****
Cake you've ever made.
It won't be over done on one side
Or the other,
It won't have air bubbles,
It'll glisten and gleam,
And be pristine.
You'll have a cake
Beautiful
On the inside and out.

Okay, you two. I want you to say sorry.
Now that she has said sorry, you have to say: That's okay.
There. Now it's all better.

**here is the problem with that, from a very young age, children are taught to simply SAY sorry, and not actually find remorse in themselves, they just say it whether they mean it or not, and they think there is no difference. The other problem: Even if you ARE sorry, not all things you do can be undone. Not everything IS "okay" now that you are sorry. Some things are unforgivable. It can't always be "all better".