Moving on….

To my beloved readers: I am not going to continue to contribute more to this blog. I will not be taking it down, so feel free to browse back through all 1177 poems, but my third blog is a much more rewarding site for m. I get an average of 500 views a day there and seldom get more than about 150 views A WEEK from this one. And that would be a big week.

So, please come see all my future contributions at hellopoetry.com and search my name: Brent Kincaid. You will find nearly 400 there, and up until today, they are the same as the poems posted here since Valentine’s Day of 2014.

I am extremely grateful for your viewership thus far and hope you will come see my stuff on hellopoetry.com

Brent Kincaid

GO ON HOME

Some will make their home
Wherever they can
Get to with their feet.
Cardboard box houses
And pallets they find
By trash bins on the street.
The boxes work well
Unless it snows or rains
And then when they melt
It’s out to find a home again.

Go on home
Where the love is
Home to family
Go on home
Where you’re welcome
There is no home for me.

Cookie used to be a chef
He lives under that low bridge
He cooks in used coffee cans
That just how his life is.
Makes dinner when he has it
For us who have so little.
You’ll find him most days
Cooking delicious food
Halfway to the middle.

Go on home
Where your bed is
Home to wife and your kids
Go on home
And be grateful
And not living on the skids.

Some people gripe
When the waiter is slow
And some were once waiters
Themselves long ago.
Some people are full
After they have dined
Others only manage to eat
Whatever castoffs they find.

Go on home
Because you have one
Because you have a job.
Go home where no one
Call you a lazy slob.
Go home and thank God
You have a place to sleep.
Go home and be grateful
Go home and God keep.

LETHAL TWINS

Automobiles and road rage
Alcohol and steering wheels
Texting and driving
The Military and U.S. Steel
Banks and mercy
Fashion and comfort
Priests and Godliness
Trade alliances and imports.

Republicans and The Constitution
Bigots and non-Caucasians
Christians and homosexuals
Unbalanced equations.
Elitists and human flaws
The rich and the poor.
Anger and loaded guns
You and the Jews next door.

They are naturally equal
But they’re exactly opposite
Sometimes they balance
But often there’s no sense to it.

Attorneys and justice
Lobbyists and compassion.
Science and the church
Trust and politicians.
Monsanto and private farms
Pipelines and ecology
Fracking and water rights
Minorities and majorities.

Hope and desperation
Citizen’s rights and Tea Party
Media and integrity
Politics and morality
Free enterprise and monopolies
Censorship and free press
Freedom of expression
And illegal social duress.

They are naturally equal
But they’re exactly opposite
Sometimes they balance
But often there’s no sense to it.

ONE DAY

I got used to a fantasy world
I knew I’d wise up one day.
Give up a dream I was making.
So tired of living in someday.
When it started I was younger
Not quite as bright as today.
Settled for crumbs of your love.
So tired of living in someday.

I tolerated each of your myths
And lived with being miserable
Hoping things would get better
Always waiting for the miracle.

I gave in so easily to the idea
That it was all about just you.
I did it all without questioning
Whatever you wanted to do.
It was dreamwork those days
All made of mirrors and smoke
And felt like the kind of high
You get from illegal tokes.

I exaggerated on your myths
And lived like an acolyte
Like your personal Cleopatra
Waiting for the snake to bite.

I told myself I would win
If I held on to you some way.
So, I gathered all my assets
And invested them in someday.
I can’t say your habit was
That you treated me like dirt.
But, I also can’t say to you
That your treatment didn’t hurt.

I am through with your myths
And living feeling so miserable.
I know things won’t get better;
I won’t ever see a miracle.
When it started I was younger
Not quite as bright as today.
Settled for crumbs of your love.
So tired of living in someday.

A DATE WITH A STAR

I’ve run the gamut
From plus to minus
From nearly the worst
To among the finest.
But there was an actor
I’d love to date again.
The incredibly attractive
Richard Chamberlain.

Richard Chamberlain
You magnificent man
I blush to write a poem
But I will do what I can
To get the point across
That you’re one of a kind
To think otherwise one must
Be deaf, mute and blind.

I am just old enough to
Recall young Doctor Kildare.
I am sure with cable now
It always plays somewhere.
But, for a young gay kid
I immediately lost my heart.
I could not convince myself
You were just playing a part.

To me you were the doctor
That could heal where I ailed.
No matter that at this time
What I felt could get me jailed.
I just went on and pined for
This beautiful man on TV.
Every word he said seemed
To be music to young me.

So when I got the chance
To spend an evening with him
Dancing at a nice party
Thrown by a mutual friend
I jumped at the chance
And broke a cardinal rule
I told him of my crush on him
I am sure I looked the fool.

Thus, it really wasn’t a date
More of an amazing evening.
That kind of happy accident
I still have trouble believing.
But it counts as a date to me
When a delightful, classy man
Spends the evening chatting
With an obviously smitten fan.

 

 

BUYING A YACHT

I wish I had the money
To buy myself a yacht.
I wouldn’t spend it that way
But would love what I bought.
I’d have a huge party
With every friend I know
And let it go on and on
For about a week or so.

And, gifts to everybody
Who was ever kind to me.
Just something thoughtful
To give them gratefully.
I’d pick things out carefully
And wrap them up nice
And in some cases I’m sure
I’d do it at least twice.

I’d rent a fancy house
That overlooked the beach
With kayaks and hammocks
All within everyone’s reach.
And I would hire a caterer
To make delicious foods
So nobody would hunger
No matter what their mood.

And I would hire musicians
To play on regular intervals.
Maybe local songwriters
And super talented minstrels.
And I would wear my finest
Most beautiful things I’ve got.
That’s what I would do if
I could buy myself a yacht.

HOLDING YOUR SHADOW

The sunshine has left
My days have turned to night.
I try to accept you’re gone
But it doesn’t feel right.
I wish I had known the truth
Right from the start.
I still hold your shadow
Instead of your heart.

But a shadow doesn’t breathe
And shadows cannot kiss.
Shadows can’t love me back
When I’m hurting like this.

I thought that I had found it
The love I wanted all along.
I felt that we were perfect
And nothing would go wrong.
I let myself feel hopeful
That this was the best part.
Now I hold your shadow
Instead of your heart.

But a shadow can’t hold me
When I’m alone in the night.
Shadows are just memories
That did not turn out right.

I walk past places we went
Back went when we first met.
It only makes it harder
For me to heal and forget.
Sometimes it’s a melody
Or the aroma of a bloom
That we enjoyed together
In our own cozy room.

Still a shadow is all I have
And that’s the painful part.
I still hold your shadow
Instead of your heart.

JUNK SALE JUNKIE

I’m a junk sale junkie
As a matter of fact.
It has to be addiction
Because that’s how I act.
I just can’t help myself
I buy what I see.
It’s almost like the stuff
Is calling to me.

I drive by a yard and see
A ringer washing machine
And say to myself
Wouldn’t that be keen?
I could do my washing
And ring it nearly dry.
So, I buy the thing and
Don’t ask me why.

I’m a junk sale junkie
As a matter of fact.
It has to be addiction
Because that’s how I act.

I once found a deal
On a gerbil habitat.
I bought it and took it home.
That’s just where I’m at.
That I don’t have a gerbil
Is a minor detail.
I just can’t resist a good
Price in a sale.

I just can’t help myself
I buy what I see.
It’s almost like the stuff
Is calling to me.

People have told me
If I ever get a bride
She’ll be someone
I met on the roadside.
But I quickly add that I
Might be the worst
Because I would look
At the sale items first.

I’m a junk sale junkie
As a matter of fact.
It has to be addiction
Because that’s how I act.
I just can’t help myself
I buy what I see.
It’s almost like the stuff
Is calling to me.

PLAIN TALK

I’s gunna say
I’d hafta wanna,
So, omina say no.
I know I coulda
And prolly shoulda
But I wouldn’ta
‘Cause I gotta
Kinda take a chanceta
Be a wannabe.
Not a useta was,
But a gunna go to guy.
Still I liketa never
Gotta break yet.
But I’m tryna.

Winecha common?
Wotsa prollem?
Youc’n do it, cancha?
Tryna kid me?
Tryna trick me.
Wotsa mattayou?
Crazy inna head?
Shoulda stood in bed?
Eye ainna gunna
Letcha jerk me
Lyka dummass
Jess causeya can.
Eye aindat kyna guy.
Eye ainno fool, er you?

So, omina skip it
Jess fergit it
Eye ain doinit.
No way ho say.
Say wotcha gotta
Wotever ya wanna
But omina do thangs
My own way.
Not gunna play.
Nuttin youc’n say
Gunna change me,
Make a differnse.
So, jess go way.
Look fer sumthin
Er sumone else
At wantsta play.

BUBBY BEAR, MY BEST FRIEND

He has one eye missing
And a patchwork butt.
I tell everybody he’s winking,
That he has one eye shut.
He’s lost a lot of hair
And he no longer sits up
Like he used to before.
But whenever I see him
I am never in doubt
He is still the bear I adore.

Bubby Bear is a very good bear
The best friend there ever could be.
He sleeps by my side every night
And Bubby never argues with me.

When things get too scary
Or out of control I go and
Grab up Bubby and hold him.
He’s always warm and he’s
Sympathetic, and so I never
Feel the need to scold him.
I can always talk to him
And explain things out
Because he is so very patient.
I think it is because he
Is such a very wise bear
And always there waiting.

Bubby Bear is the finest bear
He always right beside me.
I don’t have to worry that he
He might want to abandon me.

Some people like to tease me
About the way Bubby looks
And make fun of his condition.
But they have to admit to me
They don’t have a friend who gives
One hundred percent permission,
And never gets tired of them
Or tattles their confidences
Or gets bored with what they say.
That’s why Bubby is my best friend
Always was, always will be
All night long and every single day.

Bubby Bear is a very good bear
He puts up with my every whim.
I feel sorry for anyone who
Doesn’t have a friend like him.