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.