At The End...
it is not the quantity, not the length
you know it, it is the quality, for you are weighed
and not counted,
it is never the number of days, the delay in the
falling of the sands, the slipping away,
it is the wideness of that vast expanse of the
oceans in your heart,
it is the why, and not the how.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Algebraic Expression of Philippine Education System
A Student (self supporting or parent dependent)
Pays the tuition fee “X” equivalent to the number of classes “Y”
thus, the level of education (quantity = quality) .
However, the final grade “A”
is the difference of classes attended “Y” and absence “Z”.
Where:
X = Tuition Fee
Y = # of Classes
Z = # of Absences
A = Final Grade
A= X=Y
Y - Z
A Teacher (Instructor or Professor)
receives wage “W” equivalent to the number of Classes “C” attended.
Wage “W” is the difference of the classes “Y” and “D” absence.
Where:
C = # of Classes
D = # of Absences
W = Wage
W = ___C____
C – D
____________________________________
Let: X = B and Y = C
X = C and Y = B
But if:
Y and C ≠ X and B
What is the Difference and where does it go,
When it is not Refundable?
Y and C ≠ X and B
∞
∞ is the value of Philippine Education.
Where:
Q1 = Quantity
Q2 = Quality
Value = Quantity
Quality
∞ = Q1 ≠ Q2
When allocation is less than the need,
Try to ask INFINITY for the value of commercialized
EDUCATION = less budget
NEED!
poem by Victorio Pueblo
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How good is good
When things compared, quality talked
When quality even, money mattered
When money unimportant, endurance considered
When endurance limitless, quantity overlooked
When quantity doesn't affect, heart decides
When heart is failed, luck plays
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Do Not Mind The Volume, I Do Not Mind It At All Too...
do not criticize me for the quantity
i do not mind, it is the most normal thing that happens
in the ordinariness of my
life,
true, we are weighed, we are not counted,
because the numbers do not matter at all
i know that perfectly
but do not worry, do not make it a problem at all
because it is the most normal even that happens
in the most ordinary day of my life,
i, too long, for the One,
the God of Quality, the One that perhaps the whole of this
galaxy shall seek and
worship and hence cannot ever forget
but honestly, what is the use of the One
when you do not allow me to speak my Mind anymore?
what is the use of those streams of
consciousness
if in the last years of my life
i shall offer you only a single line
must it sound to be the best
epitaph of the
Tutankhamen Tomb?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Beauti Of Sorrow
Beauti of sorrow
vast as the sea
eve of the morrow
inner expanse of me
conceptually multiplied
virtually personified
politically religified
perceptually cubified
Beatui of sorrow
vast as the sea
eve of the morrow
inner expanse of me
life is a beauty
living our prize
to share them our duty*
effects all our lives*
Beatui of sorrow
vast as the sea
eve of the morrow
inner expanse of me
running reel of thoughts
projection of the mind
independent performing plots
and a function to define
Beatui of sorrow
vast as the sea
eve of the morrow
inner expanse of me
many a different beauties
shine in a single sorrow
many a different evenings
raise a plethora of tomorrows
Beatui of sorrow
vast as the sea
eve of the morrow
inner expanse of me
contemplation of all thats left
the final mystery announced
a souls a speck of a black hole's death
so evil, and good renounce
Beatui of sorrow
vast as the sea
eve of the morrow
inner expanse of me
sorrow isn't knowing now
knowing hurts so much
hurt is hope that holds you down
ego is a common crutch
Beatui of sorrow
vast as the sea
eve of the morrow
inner expanse of me
*Changed Line From:
[to share it our duty-original-2.26.10]
[the purpose of our lives-original-2.26.10]
poem by Tim caffery
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Slipping Away
I'm slipping away
In every way
I can't stay awake
(and I don't know why)
I'm slipping away
(and I don't know why)
I'm trying to make it through each day
I'm falling apart now in every way
I'm finding harder to get by
There's a hole in my heart
and I don't know why
now I've come to realize
I'm slipping away
song performed by by Sum 41
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Opal
An opal is a precious stone and it is a
very rare stone indeed. The quality and
quantity are very special to me, I swear.
The quantity does not often outweigh the
Quality of stone, I assure you. But
it is so a stone of great value, to all
to cherish you see. An opal is a gem you
adore; especially like owning a piece of
gold forever more.
poem by Patarica D. Nunn
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Slipping Away
Guess it's just another dream
That's slipping away
Each time I fall asleep
It seems I'm just drifting away
Just as yo have touched my heart
Babe I wake and we're apart
Yeah and it's slipping away
Here comes just another day
That's drifting away
Every time I draw a breath
It's dying away
First the sun and then the moon
One of them will be around soon
Slipping away
Slipping away
Drifting away
Slipping away
Just as you have touched my heart
I wake up babe and we're apart
It seems we're slipping away
Slipping away
Slipping away
All I want is ecstasy
But I ain't getting much
Just getting off on misery
It seems I've lost my touch
Well it's just another song
But it's slipping away
We we didn't sing it long
'Cos it's fading away
First the sun and then the moon
One of them will be round soon
Slipping away
Slipping away
Slipping away
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Steel Wheels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through and through the world is infested with quantity. To talk sense is to talk quantities. It is no use saying the nation is large - how large? It is no use saying that radium is scarce - how scarce? You can not evade quantity. You may fly to poetry and music and quantity and number will face you in your rhythms and your octaves.
quote by Alfred North Whitehead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Falling Off
I was a young man
Whose intentions were good
Kept my hands in my pockets
The way that I should
I soon found out
They got a mind of their own
Beginning to think
I had a heart
Made of stone
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I try to remember
I try to forget
I┬┤ll keep my promise
Is that what I said
I had your number
But I didn┬┤t call
I got no excuse
I got my back to the wall
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
My eyes don┬┤t want to see
My ears don┬┤t want to hear
The things that make me feel
That keep me so endeared to you
It makes me think
Is that the best I can do
It doesn┬┤t matter
The time that I fall
I'm up for the next one
Like I'm ten feet tall
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
I keep falling off
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyone Here Is Working Hard For You
Do you realize how many poems I've seen,
That you have written?
'No!
How many have you actually 'read'? '
Comeon...
You are not aware of this at all?
I read a few but not all.
'I am aware that I am a writer.
Not an accountant.
Nor someone who sets limits,
To achieve a final goal.
Or someone seeking to impress.
Each day presents its own personality.
I'm learnig to appreciate quality and not quantity.
There is something about life I more understand each day.
My personal awareness of 'that' is what I keep addressed.'
Oh...
So what is that?
If you don't mind me asking?
'I know I am not alone...
Even though I perceive I am on my own!
I hear voices clearly say to me,
Everyone here is working hard for you.
That you must believe.'
I see.
And that makes you produce quality you don't notice?
An involvement you keep distanced?
'I did not say I didn't notice the quality.
Painfully that's done.
I don't put my sights on 'quantity'.
I don't want to overwhelm.
As much as I choose to stun!
And that takes paying attention to everyone! '
Like the voices heard in your head?
'You see...
You're trying to take this somewhere else.
And what you are 'attempting' to imply...
I'm not wasting any more of my time to listen to!
Read more than you do.
And if there is any comprehension to communicate,
You need not announce that to me! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We, The Quantities...
they shall search for one
for only one
and take pride in it
as treasure of a
lifetime
i am not that one
for i belong to the many
those series of
words like trains like
ordinary public commutations
boring whirring sounds
others call it pollution of
traffic sounds in the city
i am not the one
i am the many and no one loves this kind
the faces of themselves that
they hate
in the quantity
the ordinary foulness
that's left in the canals where dead rats
lie
those that they avoid
reminding them of their own
lousy selves
the ordinary air that everyone breathes
and yet have
taken for granted
for air is quantity like the sea and the oceans
they are not the one
they are the many
the masses, the crowd, the ants and
beehives and
the pebbles of the rivers
whose faces are all the same
not one unique
for the altar of fame
we are all in these
the quantity....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To be pitiably old
Besides parents and grand parents,
Aunts and uncles were counted on.
Besides father and mother,
Nephews and nieces were counted on.
Besides brothers and sisters,
Sons and daughters were counted on.
Then their children were contemplated on.
I count days, with no more to be counted on.
20.10.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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How Many Nights? ....
IT is the darkness of the enclosure
that is trying to kill me
it is your face that mocks me
it is not time
that befriends me with a basket
of its mellowing
the flowers of youth
its petals falling one by one
to the sands of
of loneliness finally slipping
through my fingers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bedouin
O love is like an untamed steed!--
So hot of heart and wild of speed,
And with fierce freedom so in love,
The desert is not vast enough,
With all its leagues of glimmering sands,
To pasture it! Ah, that my hands
Were more than human in their strength,
That my deft lariat at length
Might safely noose this splendid thing
That so defies all conquering!
Ho! but to see it whirl and reel--
The sands spurt forward--and to feel
The quivering tension of the thong
That throned me high, with shriek and song!
To grapple tufts of tossing mane--
To spurn it to its feet again,
And then, sans saddle, rein or bit,
To lash the mad life out of it!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Unheard
Last rivulet of conversation
writhing on the edge of
wet expanse of acceptance
soon the desert would be herding
mad pack of silences
Kinetics of vast journey
removed from niches of mind
vacuum will suck in all contours of happiness
on this fork of déjà vu
on this roundabout of fate
I stand spent or perhaps ready
For another winding journey
To be herded with arid flock of silences
Inches beyond the vast expanse of acceptance
poem by Frank Lisa IndiRa Francesca Roger Platt Cornish Ma
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Herded
Last rivulet of conversation
writhing on the edge of
wet expanse of acceptance
soon the desert would be herding
mad pack of silences
Kinetics of vast journey
removed from niches of mind
vacuum will suck in all contours of happiness
on this fork of déjà vu
on this roundabout of fate
I stand spent or perhaps ready
For another winding journey
To be herded with arid flock of silences
Inches beyond the vast expanse of acceptance
poem by Frank Lisa IndiRa Francesca Roger Platt Cornish Ma
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Lost in the Oceans
lost in my oceans of tears
no family, friends nor dears
the sky is a ghost, love is a falling leaves
lost in the oceans of tear
the home is far, and hug is scar
the heart is April, eyes are flaring star
lost in the oceans of tear
where live is fade and love is paid
when friends are dead and words are said
lost in the oceans of tears
yet I found the beauty
when your eyes became snooty
lost in the oceans of tears
where you rose high in the hell
and deep beyond an ell
poem by Mohammed Sabbagh
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Clarity
do not eat words
do not eat my poetry
do not attempt to chew it
do not swallow it whole like how a boa swallows the whole pig
take your time. look at it. from the first word to the last.
think of this poem as syllables, not as thoughts, not as my thoughts.
or your thoughts. think of this poem as a feeling.
a baby sleeping. a calm look at the eye. a stare.
a grip. a hand grasping another hand.
a breath suspended in cold air.
two hands in prayer. think of this as the sound of a distant bell.
an orange dressed monk walking at the shore.
a leaf falling on the white sand.
a last step on the trip.
a beginning of a dream.
do not think now. Feel the sands slipping from your fingers.
See the sands falling on the floor of the sand.
do not move. Do not swallow your saliva.
And then speak the first word of this line.
This i think is clarity.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Votes should be weighed not counted.
quote by Friedrich Schiller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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