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Never Preach

Certain things cannot be said or done,
It cannot be heard or seen,
It cannot be preached or even felt….
It cannot be even understood…
It should be experienced!
Then the pain can be felt,
The agony can be seen,
The desperate call for help can be heard
The problem of the other can be totally understood
And then the solution can be preached!
All this cannot be done when it is not experienced!
They easily say,
“Put yourselves in other’s shoe”
But…it is not as easy
Just to insert your legs…
The feeling always varies..
The emotions vary..
The situations vary..
The opinions vary..
The suggestions differ
Could anyone treat the other
As thy self? Are we saints?
Are we not struck,
Helpless into this unpleasant trance
Where we experience
Both sorrow and joy?
Could we try and realize?
Could we try and experience?
Is it ever possible?
These are events that happen
Beyond our efforts
Beyond our restraints!
It should come to thy by self!
Then how can people
Have similar experiences?
How could they ever feel the same?
Then how could they preach?
Preachers can only be saints,
And nobody else!
We can never conclude,
Never take a chance
To get eroded or go and preach
This can be totally confusing!
But this is the truth!

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I'm too shallow to write a verse

I'm too shallow to write a verse To wrap around the twists and turns To dwell unto my own, I do Living somebody else's life or my own? Shrouded under piles of thought, I scribble, thinking only of the applause.
I'm too shallow to write a verse or two To make ends meet, I'm too cuckoo. I'm not the classic, scratching blue wooing 'em, tearing 'em apart  with every word.
I'm not the one who rhymes nor the one with notes for those lyrics. I'm the one who scribbles blotching blue on all my troubles, roiling over moments back and forth, trying to string those stray words, into at least a doggerel. See, I don't make sense.  I told you, I'm too shallow to pen that sonnet, that ballad, that haiku, that refrain, that ode.
I'm forcing it out all that gibberish snowballed  unto mine, to chime and rhyme  but nevertheless I realise in time, I'm to shallow to be read over cheese and wine.





PSA: GLAM-WHAMs Read on!

Okay. Let's do this.
Some facts are hard to digest but true. To all those pretty people with sour cream 'fairness' masks sploshed on their dusty dusky faces once in every week, the fad dieting extremists whose diet routine involves surviving a whole year through the energy generated by a single pea (Are you the dragon warrior? Tai Lung is on the look out), to all those having a face lift, botox and brouhaha for looking the GLAM-WHAM aunty-next-door (scratch that!). This is a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT:
Lend me your ears! For the media is ambitious yet honourable! The idealism that you believe which you have set for yourself is an outcome of the billion frames that pass by every time you click the remote to fill your mind with the colours of the junk box. (I'm speaking about the TVs that you either get as freebies for voting for bad-guy-politicians or that flat desirable LCD screen that you've bought online on the TrapFart's Big Bullion Day Offer)
It has infil…