#kincaid
Have you never told the truth
Even in your untrustworthy youth?
Did ever make a habit of saying what you mean?
You’re the biggest fake and loser many have ever seen.
When you look into the mirror, what is it you see?
Can you tell how far you’ve fallen from humanity?
You’re always lyin’, lyin’, lyin’!
So shove it where the sun don’t shine.
You make up crap so fast you can’t keep track.
So much sounds like it came out of the other crack.
You cheat and brazenly brag about your cheating.
At the Devil’s table you needn’t worry about seating.
You’ll be right there at Beelzebub’s right hand
And you’ll have friends there, won’t it be grand?
You’re always lyin’, lyin’, lyin’!
So shove it where the sun don’t shine.
The way you look and dress, and your awful voice
Makes me change the channel if I have any choice.
If the gym I go to has you on the cable TV
I switch the gym I go to as quickly as can be.
I never take kindly to liars and to bragging thieves.
I hope your crimes will match the penalty you receive.
You’re always lyin’, lyin’, lyin’!
So shove it where the sun don’t shine.
Brent Kincaid
5/20/2019
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 3:05 PM UTC
A leader, strong of heart
Proud of soul and mind
Sure of purpose and hope
Nor is the Leader blind.
In horrifying circumstance
When nobility seems gone
The leader stands up proud
And the truth marches on.
When larceny and intolerance
Become the uniform of the day
The leader speaks of opportunity
To do things a better way.
The Leader risks scorn of people who
Care more of what is gained today
Than taking care of our future
And not as much of today’s pay.
The Leader does not scoff at us
If we want to make a living wage.
The Leader only objects to us
If we couple wealth with rage.
If we hate people who are not rich
And wish to take human rights away
The Leader objects and points to the law
And has many good things to say.
The Leader may not be the one who
Was elected to protect the common citizen.
But the Leader seeks to teach us all
To save all of our futures for our children
The Leader means to save our world for
The opportunity to be a healthy human.
The Leader so far has mostly been a man
But The Leader can just as likely be a woman.
Brent Kincaid
5/18/2019
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 12:31 AM UTC
In the dark of night
I have seen a wild sight
That made some say
“That’s not really right!”
When visitors go walking
Through walls an such
Reality is far out of touch,
And good common sense
No longer means that much.
A logical person, that is me,
With no love for surreality,
Instead an intense inner drive
For a world of abject sanity.
Until, to my upset and surprise,
A kind of person, before my eyes
Appeared to spiritually enchant me.
Surely a ghost and not a disguise.
On a pleasing evening walk
I spent a while in chatty talk.
The fellow so handsome
I could find no way to balk.
He told me an interesting tale;
A wandering life of freedom and jail
And meeting other vagabonds
Riches and fame both no avail.
We shared about the weather
We talked for hours together
I noticed his suit was three pieces
Wool plaid instead of leather.
I am sure I was quite obvious,
He couldn’t have stayed oblivious
Of the way I was wanting him
My face gave away my wishes.
He said he had to go quite soon
And my heart, a burst balloon
Also showed on my sad face.
Smiling, he pointed to the moon.
From his lapel he took a shiny pin
And fixed to to my collar and then
Smiling, he kissed me warmly
Which set my head into a spin.
Then, his colors began to glimmer,
The ancient clothing started to shimmer
And my lovely suitor began to fade.
My passion for him soon left to simmer.
Because like a camera trick he was gone
And I was left on my own to move on
And face the facts that I was looking at air,
Just me and a memory on the city lawn.
I questioned myself and my sanity too.
What else could any sane person do
When faced with such a visible mystery?
How could any of this have been true?
I looked down to my collar and there
Was that pin this ghost had pinned where
I could not deny his existence was real.
So, perhaps you see why I had to share.
Brent Kincaid
5/16/2019
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 3:17 PM UTC
A small platoon of beauty,
Lovely boygirls with tiny *****
Posing like Vogue models
And doing dancing tricks
So, hot. So pretty, but not
In the slightest masculine;
No attempt to be butch,
They revel in being feminine.
They’re better at it than girls
Being more of a success
Than all the ** movie stars
In ten thousand dollar dresses.
Such pretty smooth faces, traces
Of ancestry and cool breeding
For thousands of screaming teens
Wishing they were breeding.
They wish these boys were closer
So they could caress and kiss
Close enough so they could not
Avoid, so the teens could not miss.
They want to carefully tarnish them,
These angels of flashing bright lights,
And cuddle them, snuggle them
If only for one youthful, sensuous night.
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 2:25 PM UTC
His head and his body were
Bald as an egg for all to see.
His parents named him Harry
But he did not turn out to be.
As an antonymic masterpiece
His name is rife with humor
But in poor Harry’s opinion
It was taken as a social tumor.
Every joke that would be said,
No matter how crass was made
At work, at play by everyone
Beginning in the seventh grade
When his baby fine blond hair
Began to hide on back of head.
It hurt his feelings to frequently hear
The things his peers all said.
By the time he reached maturity
He learned to accept his fate;
Everyday friends could not resist
Making light of his name and pate!
While it’s human nature all of this
It’s a constantly rather bitter pill,
And though he learned to smile
It kind of hurts his feelings still.
Bare Harry, bald as a shaved baby.
Plenty of tacky hairless jokes to spare
Shouldn’t we cut him some slack maybe
And focus on something besides his hair
Or the obvious lack thereof on his head
And point out his forgiving personality?
But sadly, that is just not the way
Of the reality of the world’s humanity.
Brent Kincaid
4/29/2019
Apr 29, 2019
Apr 29, 2019 at 5:39 PM UTC
I guess I’m a different sort
A kind of jiggle-free ******
When the fun turns to money
I always choose to go.
I have no beef with prostitutes,
Some are great at having fun.
It’s just when it comes to me
I’d rather see than be one.
I am usually flat broke
Not a dollar to my name.
It’s almost like saving up
Has never been my game.
I know I could maybe do well
By snuggling someone wealthy,
But I know people who did that
And it never worked out healthy.
I guess I’m a different sort
A kind of jiggle-free ******
When the fun turns to money
I always choose to go.
I have no beef with prostitutes,
Some are great at having fun.
It’s just when it comes to me
I’d rather see than be one.
I’d much rather just play around
And see what happens then.
I don’t plan and I don’t demand,
I don’t insist we do it all again.
I might be gone when you wake
Off to have new adventures.
I don’t care if my wandering ways
Are looked upon with abject censure.
I say it up front, so no heartbreak,
I tell you please don’t to marry me.
I pay my own way and sleep where I wish.
I don’t need anyone to carry me.
If you see me down the road a ways
And I’m behaving some other way instead;
Not the jiggle-free ****** I am normally
Then bury me, it means I’m dead
I guess I’m a different sort
A kind of jiggle-free ******
When the fun turns to money
I always choose to go.
I have no beef with prostitutes,
Some are great at having fun.
It’s just when it comes to me
I’d rather see than be one.
Brent Kincaid
4/28/2019
Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 11:36 PM UTC
The orgiastic abandon,
I had seen that face.
And, at last, perforce
The guilt, the disgrace,
It was not new to me
Though I had never seen
What the source of it
Had ultimately been.
Later I would know it
As the fulfillment of ***
But the child saw it as
Some mad kind of hex.
And if the first one along
Is like I was at the start
The child of another
There is no room in the heart
Of the adopting parent
Who sees in the bearing
Of the child of another
The source of swearing.
And even the birth child
Is not immune from abuse.
Good behavior and love
Simply has here no use.
This is the sentence
Of men and women
Who acquire offspring
When they don’t like children.
They set their minds up
To repeatedly bear them
To avoid askance looks
And any open criticism.
So they suffer and complain
About what a heavy burden
It is for them to have to
Put up with their children.
And if the first one along
Is like I was at the start
The child of another
There is no room in the heart
Of the adopting parent
Who sees in the bearing
Of the child of another
The source of swearing.
And even the birth child
Is not immune from abuse.
Good behavior and love
Simply has here no use.
If a soul-deprived mother
Never felt love of her own
She has none to spare,
No patience to condone.
The woes of these parents
Is of not having any peace,
No time of their own then,
No feeling of surcease.
It’s as if a child born
Has a few years to grow
Before turning into adult
Who will automatically know.
They will know how to parent
This sick, twisted adult one
Who doesn’t seem to like them
Or anything much they have done.
This is the sad tune of those
Who made many awful choices
But still have no use for any
Of the warning, advising voices.
Brent Kincaid
4/26/2019
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 4:01 AM UTC
President Comb-Over,
Quite the despicable guy
Got himself elected
But the wise folk wonder why.
Obama wore a tan suit
Conservatives went insane,
But this Wimpy lookalike butterball
Sports a totally artificial mane.
If ****** predation were a soccer game
This **** would win The World Cup.
If you ignored the news and his tweets
You’d think someone made this horror show up.
He’s lied and cheated and swindled his way
In to more lucrative deals than he deserved
Then a large minority of certifiable idiots
Elected him so he could to pretend to serve.
He took the Oath of Office, quite smugly
But that’s where his integrity would end.
He set about making deals for himself
His trophy wives, his offspring and friends.
He made few attempts to cover his tracks,
Mostly just shouted blatantly obvious lies
By which he was fooling no one intelligent.
Just the moronic, the foolish and unwise.
He relied on the vagaries of human nature
That voters are among the laziest humans
And would rather vote for a rascal it seems
Than take a chance on an honest new man
Or woman, or gay or an experienced soul
That could take over the Presidential reins
Instead of driving our country straight to hell
And making huge profits off the remains.
Brent Kincaid
4/23/2019
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 2:46 PM UTC
MISE EN SCENE
Once, the long ago and far away me
Could attract the eye and heart.
But without my watching it be so
I did not see my good looks depart.
I did not see the wrinkles arrive,
Nor the spots appear on my skin.
I did not note the muscles loosen
And the arms and legs go so thin.
I watched the blonde become silver
And the dark become so very light
But, I did not mind the stooping posture
As tiredness made it feel just right.
I felt my diet changing because
Some things no longer tempted
Others took their places every time
As the younger favorites were exempted.
But now I have glasses everywhere
And I turn the television up too loud
That the neighbors squeal to the landlord
And that does not make me proud.
For most of my life, I read incessantly
But now, never can read at night
Because I have to have a strong lamp
Or the lighting is not quite right.
And, oh the pills I must take now.
Some for morning and some for night.
I must take them in order, counting
So I know I keep the dosage just right.
Some are supplements, but some are for
That age that I have now achieved.
Yes, I am that old, and accept it mostly
Even though I find it hard to believe.
Brent Kincaid
4/14/2019
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 1:06 AM UTC
Do you love me?
Yes, he lied,
And thus left
The door opened wide,
That soon left
Only lonely me inside.
Oh, I wanted him to stay
But regardless how I tried
He pushed me aside
And rushed outside
Free of my needs
As if out of the weeds
And into tomorrow,
Not a moment of sorrow
For my hopes or tears.
That had not worked for years.
He was completely free,
But not so with me.
I was left with what I feared most,
A love affair with an uncaring ghost.
Yes, begging is seedy
And I knew being needy
Was as making me unattractive
But my fear was active
And my lack of self-esteem
Made my tears seem to be
Righteous temptation,
Not abomination.
At least to me,
As far as I could see.
Not then.
Is wisdom ever given to men
When they need it most,
Like when in love with a ghost
Of my own desperate creating?
It’s probably not worth debating.
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 9:14 PM UTC
This is the sad song
Of men and women
Who create offspring
When they don’t like children.
They set their minds up
To repeatedly bear them
To avoid askance looks
And any open criticism.
So they suffer and complain
About what a heavy burden
It is for them to have to
Put up with their children.
Each day with the rugrats
Nets no child any praise
They see not much beauty
In the offspring they raise.
If a soul deprived mother
Never felt love of her own
She has none to spare,
No patience to condone.
The talk of these parents
Is of not having any peace,
No time of their own then,
No feeling of surcease.
It’s as if a child born
Has but few years to grow
Before needing to be an adult
Who will automatically know.
That they must know to parent
The sick adult needy one
Who doesn’t seem to like them
Or anything much they have done.
This is the sad tune of those
Who made many awful choices
But still have no use for any
Of loving, advising voices.
It’s a song too many sing;
The music heart breaking,
Yet few of those parents know
The sense of trust they are taking.
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 8:25 PM UTC
I don’t call you crumpet
I doubt you taste very good.
But you fit the name strumpet
Like I was sure you would.
A better name would be porcupine
The pork part fits you so much
But it would be so very awful;
You’re a thing I’d hate to touch.
I’d call your crew a clown car,
But, while you are surely on wheels.
You are more of a slow train wreck
Based on the looks and the feel.
Some fools call you Robin Hood
But I reject that whole twisted pitch.
Robin Hood did not rob the poor
Just so he could give to the rich.
You think you’re a smart cookie
But, you are nothing but a crumb.
You think we are all of us stupid
But only your supporters that are dumb.
You’re a ****** cake that has fallen
With a poisonous coat of frosting.
You are not worth a penny of what
A disaster like you are is costing.
You leave a nasty taste in the mouth
Of those who have to be near you.
There is nothing about you at all
That would serve to endear you.
It really would nice if you would go
Live for decades in a prison cell.
That color of orange, for once
Would suit you so very well.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 12:09 AM UTC
When I was young
I thought I knew
All of the answers,
Red green and blue.
Some were a game
That I had to guess
Sometimes confused
Not just no or yes.
I chose to act like
I was all that aware
Knew what was fact
Nothing could scare.
Then came a moment of truth
That gave no credit for my youth.
I had to pay such a terrible price.
My habit was to scorn good advice.
I was the slave to lazy ways.
I chose to waste away my days
Always the child of constant fun
Until I flew to close to the sun.
And I could lift up my arms
And believed I could fly.
I was headed for heaven
Up there in the sky.
Now I am older, I can see,
After the crash to the earth,
Just what happened to me.
I am not an angel, not by birth.
I have to learn to accept
What I am and accordingly
Act like the human I am
And honor my destiny.
Too long I cherished a dream.
I am a child of the earth, too.
I fell in love with what I believed
Now I must do what people do.
I can still spread my wings wide
But it is to reach and embrace.
Let the winds stay in the sky
Unless they caress my face.
I was the slave to lazy ways.
I chose to waste away my days
Always the child of constant fun
Until I flew to close to the sun.
And I could lift up my arms
And believed I could fly.
I was headed for heaven
Up there in the sky.
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 4:00 PM UTC
JESUS IS A FRIENDLY GUY
Jesus is a friendly guy.
Such a very friendly guy.
Lived two thousand years
Didn’t care for queers
And he has a painful tale
That brings us all to tears.
Jesus is a loving guy
Doesn’t even have to try;
That’s why he was born
To have his body torn
So it’s not a total loss
We get colored eggs on Easter morn.
Jesus is a groovy dude.
Don’t let this song get misconstrued
He’s god and he is man
We do everything we can
To beat and **** the fools
With anti-Jesus attitude.
Jesus was Caucasian man.
He was so much better than
Any Jewish kind of guy
That’s the reason why
The televangelists and stuff
You buy from them began.
Jesus needs your money now.
So sell your tractor and your plow.
Your preacher’s gonna show you how
To fill the check out while you bow.
You go to heaven with no doubt.
Jesus needs your money now.
Brent Kincaid
11/27/2018
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 6:30 PM UTC
In the fifties in the USA
It was sad, but at the time
It was a rock solid fact;
Flamboyance was a crime.
I had to wear a coat and tie
The uniform of every day
Behaving quite the normal guy
In every conceivable way.
To be a good Samaritan
And genuflect at the altar,
Wear the collar of a puritan,
And not shame your father
By being some kind of fool
Who goes against the will
Of a society that longs for
A conformity inducing pill.
I gazed longingly at clothes
Of fashionable panderers
With the color matching garb
That triggered the slanderers.
But more than their profession
I saw their ability to strut,
The fit, the material display,
The magnificence of the cut.
And I had trouble being
That kind of person they craved.
To me it was a boring ride
From birth, right to the grave.
I could not understand those
Who felt life was not for living.
What good were the gifts I saw
If I refused their very giving?
Not for me, even when young
To spend my time mud crawling.
I would rather spend my efforts
In verbal social brawling.
I rejected insulting phrases that
Proper people so often employ
And chose instead the descriptive
And openly proud ‘gay *******
I refused to let the common man
Who was afraid of his own crotch
Insist I be mute while he insisted
That I should stand and watch.
No, I would be who I was then
And reject their false packet
Of wearing the coat of social balm
Which I called The Straight Jacket.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 4:38 PM UTC
Ronnie couldn’t talk
And be rhymless at all.
He could barely walk,
I'm pretty sure he'd fall,
Unless he was rhyming.
He said to me, “You see
The thing is with me
It all has to do with timing.
The cadence when I walk
Become words I hear,
The beat when someone talks
Makes a poem in my ear,
Then the rhyming begins
And seems to make good sense.
The words like magic appear
Poetic possibilities immense.”
All of the time I knew him
It seemed to be the truth
He rhymed almost constantly
From his very verbal youth.
He was like a Hallmark card
Sometimes saying pithy things
That fit the moment exactly
And had that ***** ring.
But other times his utterances
Were acerbic and very witty.
When it came to sarcastic tilt
He was the Mayor of Snark City.
Or he could rhyme endearingly
And paint pictures with his words
Saying some of the nicest things
That were ever put into words.
Yes, he was Rhyming Ronnie,
A poem for any current thought.
You couldn’t stump him even once.
At least not that I ever caught.
Ryan was amazing for sure
And some found it rather vexing.
But oh boy in the internet age
It came in handy when texting!
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
You brought gossamer ribbons
To hang down into our lives
And scented candles, all around
Dancing, flickering before our eyes.
You sang lovely melodies to us
That I never had heard before.
Somehow just being yourself seemed
That you were a master’s painting
Done by some ancient admired guy.
Sometimes you left me almost fainting.
You urged us to explore and seek
New vistas and scenes near our home
And celebrate the people and places
We would discover when we roamed.
You caused this old stick in the mud
To become a wider wandering soul.
I’m fairly certain that was your plan,
Your vision, your wish and your goal.
It worked, I changed and became
A new and different kind of person.
I dance and celebrate life today
Dancing in life's gossamer ribbons.
It’s almost like watching a movie
That has won all the best acclaim.
You’re gone now, but I still dance
But I admit it’s just not the same.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 3:24 AM UTC
These are voodoo days
When monsters have their way
With the good people alive
So the evil people can thrive.
This is a time when madness
Roams the land to pillage
And rename the boundaries
Of our fine global village.
Children once went to school
And we made sure they learned
What had happened to us all
When dissenting books were burned.
Then too many scary people
Got by with lying to us a lot.
They didn’t have us in mind,
And didn’t care what we thought.
So, their Halloween costumes seem
To only be visible to the eye
When you listen to their chants
Instead of just passing by.
If you listen closely to the words
And not just campaign speech,
You quickly see dictatorship
Is not far out of their reach.
When your friendly candidate
Starts sounding like a Mussolini
Standing up and calling them out
Does not make you a ******
No, it makes you more of true
Patriot caring for your country
Than guys in expensive suits
Who only care about their money.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 12:26 PM UTC
Many are hamster-wheel humans
So punch-drunk from assuming
They know the way things work.
The wealthy urged them to elect jerks
To run this country into the ground
And turn it into the worst place around.
It’s a sad tale, a ***** of a story
Where those with guts, don’t get glory.
It’s a horror story, like in scary flicks
Where when men in suits get their kicks
Imprisoning brown people and kids
And laughing about the bad they did.
Afterward, they say others are to blame
But make no attempt to hide their game.
They put thousands in jail and charge them
And sing out loud their lying anthems.
They say fake news is the real McCoy
But, the real news they say is a ploy
Honest people want to stop the plunder
That, up ’til now, they kept hidden under.
But now it’s in the open meant to appease
Ignorant white people that are hard to please.
They want whites in power, think that’s nifty,
No wonder they elect only those who are shifty.
Too many quit learning in school, after ABC,
And they have no use for the land of the free.
They liked how it was in eighteen hundreds
With slaves, inhumanity to those they plundered.
They got up in arms when a black man won
And the class war was once again begun.
The very rich told lies to change the rules
People began to act openly like rapacious fools.
This is the country of which we were once proud.
It’s right now being destroyed by the elite crowd.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
Yesterday and tomorrow
All in a memorable row
Happiness and sorrow
Always a few more to go.
Laughter and sadness
Marching through time.
Dealing out character
Each of us must find.
Lovers and some losers
Each kind had their say.
Whatever they did to us
Made us who we are today.
We all had to learn about
The liars and the thieves.
We taught ourselves not
To do what makes us grieve.
We learned to reward ourselves
For living and getting strong
Even when our history has
Gone quite suddenly wrong.
We are the ones who count
And must add up the score.
So, we are the wones who know
What our life has been for.
Whining does so little good
And makes others turn away.
It’s up to us to find the words
We need to hear and say.
So we do what we can in life
And deal with what we’re given
And learn we can't have it all
Wrapped up in a pretty ribbon.
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 3:01 AM UTC
(Nasally)
Ya say ya wanna look good?
Ya say ya wanna look young?
Ya say ya wanna take on the world again?
(clap)
Tell ya what I’m gonna do!
The secret is not in any little bottle.
No sir! Not a bit of it!
Step right over, friend.
I’m gonna tell ya the secret that works!
The Golden Key. The Fountain of Truth.
Yessiree bob! The Blessed Path. The open door!
Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired?
Do you pop out at parties?
Are you unpoopular?
(clap)
Do people turn off lights and hide when you come by?
Do some people refuse to return your calls?
Do you find yourself alone most of the time?
Are you under threat of being fired?
Are you sick of forgetting where you parked?
Do you wake up in the morning or come to?
Tell ya what I’m gonna do.
Step over here, friend.
I’ll give you the secret.
(There ya go, and when you get there, there ya are!)
Part of the problem is the solution.
You are drinking a solution that lies.
It says everything will be okay, if you drink.
Drink more. Yessirreebob! Recognize it?
(clap)
You take a drink or two after work and then…
It’s morning, you remember nothing, then
The whole shebang starts all over again.
You started out inviting people over
But, they used up your ***** and dope.
And there you were staggering
Down to the store to buy more
Struggling to write your name on the check.
But, what the heck. You were popular
But no more. All that is left is the store.
So, ya say ya wanna get better, fast?
Don’t put the cork in the bottle.
Throw the bottle away. Don’t buy more.
That’s the real score, the secret.
(clap)
You can’t have it both ways.
Either you wanna get better and live
Or you will keep on trying to give up
Without surrendering. It’s amazing.
You’ll feel like crap for a while
But you do now, and never smile.
(clap)
So, that’s the way it gets done.
It happens to everyone who wants
To get off the merry-go-round
And settle down to living, and smiling.
After you quit the daily drinking bit.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 8:51 PM UTC
Nobody marching toward us
Their guns making us die.
No tanks are come clanking
No bombers in the sky.
But our Congress and generals
When oil or bases seem needed;
We appear armed and threatening
Peace and love talk not heeded.
No country has attacked us
With troops and lethal artillery.
But our leaders expect us to
Go open up their arteries
And **** their women and children
And laugh while they all die
And we are expected to do this
And never think to ask why.
It’s almost like big companies
Were sad when WW2 ended
So they started attacking countries
We really should have befriended.
We let Russia have free reign
To **** and ****** and steal
Almost as if their aggression
Wasn’t really true or even real.
We looked around and made them,
Those evil old warlike excuses,
That some country threatened freedom
And we pretended they weren’t ruses.
We attacked Korea and Vietnam
We were just supposed to observe
That they were yellow people there
And think they got what they deserved.
We didn’t stop there, as Reagan took
A duly elected leader and put him in jail.
If any country did that to our country
The conservatives would howl and rail.
Then the Bushes tried their best to take
Iraq to steal their oil and punish them
And created an era of stronger hatred
And anti-American outrage and mayhem.
No foreign country has attacked America;
So, the point bears repeating once again.
We need to stop acting like bullies here
And start acting like decent statesmen
And women who have the bigger picture;
The growth of peace in our battered world
So, other countries will not take their guns
And shoot our flag when it’s unfurled.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC
I’ve reached that age where I dodder
And when I forget becomes fodder
For impatience and often abuse.
I apologize but it’s seldom any use.
I have learned to smile and tip my hat
As I am now the oldster I once laughed at.
My face tells a story with every wrinkle
And it now takes me longer to ******
I have to get up two or three times a night
Which means my kidneys aren’t working right.
Getting up from a chair is a three part thing
And I can’t do it without some moaning.
I’m very glad for a thing called remote control
Because it’s a saving grace for growing old.
I moved the coffee maker closer to my chair
So I don’t have to walk so far over there.
I’m thinking of swapping my end table in a smidge
To replace it with a my own personal mini-fridge.
That will save me even more trips over and back
By loading it with sodas and some clever snacks.
Now just in case some might think I’m ********
I’m not, it’s just that my habits are now switching.
It another phase of living life, is all it means
Like switching to Sansabelt slacks instead of jeans.
I had plenty of fun when I was young and foolish
So, there is no sense of anyone getting ghoulish.
I’m full to the brim with carefully gathered memories
And a scant few of them could be called miseries.
Mostly I have been pretty much a happy kid
And now enjoy the wisdom from all I did.
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
My world today is upside down
When truth is lies and cheating;
When the country is run by a clown
Who wants to be beyond defeating.
When robbing the poor is fun
For those who don’t need money.
When taking sick people’s insurance
To the wealthy is something funny.
The world is thinking with it’s ****
If looking back to Nazis is correct.
We have the burden to protest this,
We have a society we must protect.
Some are badly uneducated now
Because we have lowered the bar
On what we teach our children today.
Yes, we have sunk down that far.
As a people, we don’t seem to care
About who is making our laws now.
The law is full of massive restrictions
But most of us have no idea just how.
How did they get there, these rules
That support the rich and corporations?
When did we become this leviathan
Of criminals running our fine nation?
So, what can we do, short of revolution?
Do we all march in the streets and strike?
Do we stop buying cars and houses
And go to work every day on a bike?
Do we boycott spending money at all
Until the crooks are cleared away?
And how do we tell good from bad
In the way things are slanted today?
We all must speak and write and demand
Of the current representatives elected
To look to the precedents we have had
Upon which our great country was erected.
We founded this country on equality
And promised freedom for us all.
We have the burden to see to it
That our government answers that call.
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC
I was hoping for sunshine
Instead you brought me rain.
I thought it would be all pleasure
But it ended up causing pain.
I wish you’d sung me love songs
That fell on my ears like psalms
Instead you turned away from me
And I had nothing in my palms.
I wanted to assuage my heart
That I would not be alone
But I seem to be a person who
Disgusts you to the bone.
I’ll never understand how you
Could turn from hot to icy cold
Somehow the love you felt at first
Quite suddenly got too old.
You no longer gently smiled at me.
And you found my jokes unfunny.
We began to live in cloudy skies
That never quite turned to sunny.
We both had misjudged the other
And things went south from there;
Made a wrong turn at Albuquerque
And I think I know just where.
It started when you realized
I’m not good at one-month stands.
You looked up and looked around
To see who else was at hand.
And since there are always those
Who date based on a guy’s looks
You became all hot and bothered
And I became one for the books.
One more notch on your pistol
A face to avoid on meeting.
One more victim of your game
That deserves no kind of greeting.
The good side of this story is
I am no longer under your spell.
I am going to move onward now
And let you sashay to hell.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 7:41 PM UTC