Friday, August 22, 2014

I Believe You're Not There

They tell me You live in that big temple with bigger security
But I believe You're not there
They tell me You'll only see people who walk bare feet and wait for hours
But I believe You're not that unfair
They tell me You like blocking the traffic and blaring the music
But I believe that's not Your style
They tell me You can be won over by keeping hungry on Tuesdays
But I believe that will only prove futile

They tell me You love it when we share praises about You on Facebook
But I believe You're not that pretentious
They tell me You'd rather not meet women who're menstruating
But I believe you're far more judicious
They tell me You're inventing new ways to win people back to You
But I believe You're not that desperate
They tell me You only reward people who're ready to pledge loyalty to You
But I believe loyalty and love are not commensurate
They tell me You send those who do bad stuff to hell
But I believe You display better acumen
They tell me You have a big appetite for the good stuff and the bad
But I believe it just makes You more human
They tell me You have a thing for self-righteous priests and retarded rituals
But I believe You just don't care

They tell me You live in that big temple with bigger security
But I believe You're not there.


Romantically Adept

You've always been factual, not endearing
Your words precise, so persevering



Factual is wonderful really, but you don't understand
Sometimes, all you have to do is hold my hand



And say something that will make me feel less solitary
Rather than console me with a de facto commentary


Yes,I know I'm strong and independent and blessed
But to constantly remind me so, makes me suspect


That you don’t want to say anything undue
Maybe you fear that I’ll misconstrue


But you ought to know that a woman won’t misunderstand
When you say Darling, she won’t think of a wedding band


So I'm just saying this with as much clarity as I can collect
To hell with being factual, be romantically adept.

An Ode To The Common Cold

Of all the worries, of all the woes
Nothing quite matches a stuffy nose
Nasal congestion is pretty democratic
It could strike a child, adult or geriatric
When it hits you, you feel like crap
Your voice sounds whiney, your nose is a tap
If you try to sleep, guaranteed you'll fail
You'll toss and turn, but you won't inhale
The mucus, you see, is a terrible malady
Steam could clear it, or some other remedy
Some use an inhaler like a baby pacifier
Others drink whiskey, but it only gets them higher

As for me, I roll in self-pity
Let my friends all know that I'm in Viral City

Hire a DVD, take tissues to bed
Or crawl to the kitchen, make soup and bread
My septum is on a strike but my stomach is not
So while my nose is runny, I still eat a lot
Then as I sleep, I remember to pray
And surprisingly, tonight there's just one thing to say
Oh Common Cold, I'll forget and forgive
But for goodness sake, just let me live.