Long Quantify Poems
Long Quantify Poems. Below are the most popular long Quantify by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Quantify poems by poem length and keyword.
#Counting!
Caught between numbers, days and emotions, strangled in this corner of the unknown, don't know what to count or how to count, should I be counting with my fingers or my imagination, for images in my mind are blurry and fades before they could form clear indication, I wanna hope but anything can happen, I wanna smile but fear of the unknown reserves me, maybe I'm stuck, maybe I'm floating, maybe I'm just out of timing, maybe I should breath, relax and let nature take its course.
Get a little closer, listen as my heart beat, beat with uncertainty, the end of the tunnel look way far, maybe I'm impatient, maybe I have waited way too long, maybe I'm out of shape, for it be long since I was part of this waiting and expecting
Wanna breath, wanna sigh maybe create more space in my lungs, clear thoughts, clear spirit , maybe full body and soul cleansing is what I need right now, to stand on guard for the unprecedented,
Maybe I should start counting the stars, hope I don't finish them and start recounting, before the unknown reach my shores, maybe I should kneel pray, maybe by luck my expectations would be before me before I can say my Amen, maybe I should take a walk and maybe by luck, would meet my expectations before I got tired from walking, if not counting
Maybe I should just continue counting, count until numbers make no sense at all, count until there be nothing in this earth to quantify, maybe I'm just a counter caught in wrong streams of life, I wanna stop counting but my heart says the opposite, I wanna give up but in my hunch says not yet, I wanna count, count and count more now than ever, please don't stop me from my counting, I am counting , counting the unknown for the unknown, I'm counting
#Poetic_Ink
Across the cracked concrete slabs,
past a fallen dogwood
left lying like so much litter
at the red brick base of the court house;
the jurors strode.
Through the doors too heavy
for a mere woman to open unassisted
and their constant societal reminder of place
of strength and weakness;
doors serving as the first purposeful
architectural devise of disrespect,
up to the toy soldiers of the city
at their arched metal catcher gate;
the jurors of democracy strode.
Patted down, prodded,
stripped of our individuality,
so like the cattle, they assume we are;
like the criminals, who we are told are..
“Presumed innocent until proven guilty.”;
we too are subjected to the indignities of the law.
The jurors moved.
Herded up rickety elevators into the bowels
of the ivory towers of jurist prudence,
funneled in alphabetical order to weary clerks;
who sticker, stamp and quantify us,
innumerable names to numerous lists;
the jurors wait.
The sheer nature of the building,
the room, its officials, cowed the crowd
who sat cud chewing and bottom scratching,
awaiting the arrival of the Judge?
I sat, longing for the days of Jefferson.
the rebirth of the Renaissance man;
wrestling with the morality of the ignorant justice?
Wondering what poor, schmuck,
was to be brought before these modern day
Madame Defarges who sat knitting.
Personal productivity measured courtesy...
Unspecified number of hours spent
many yesterdays ago since March 6th, 2021
reading (cover to cover) Pennsylvania Gazette
March/April 2021 issue.
Proud papa highly regards eldest daughter,
University of Pennsylvania alum
as academic whip smart high achiever,
she did (after quite a stretch of time
after graduating) become
self supporting earning hand over fist money
employed at the B Corp
(short for Certified B Corporation)
as yours truly
(her biological father) feels glum,
cuz I would qualify
mine impossible to quantify
existence as humdrum,
hence quite envious at well deserved income,
which exact dollar figure I will remain mum
yet if privy being financially,
what me worry would become obsolete
mine mental would find me comfortably numb
livingsocial in splendour
versus dwelling in slum
bring (think dirt poor -
according to long ago slight
courtesy youngest sister)
whereby financial shortcoming exacerbates
predilection toward anxiety
with distress squarely within tum.
Back during mine salad days
earlier within mein kampf
precious time squandered away
this doubting thomas
grabbing life by figurative horns,
his outlook toward future
did excel at procrastination,
a pointedly powerful stance did delay
ambivalence toward purposefulness
hit me courtesy metaphorical
ton of bricks, now at threescore earth orbits
around the sun absorb shock
while grizzled and gray
recognizing when sober
upon post drinking up lackadaisical indifference
feigning to care not a whit,
I allude to johnny come lately self actualization
analogous to confronting judgement-day
resigned to gather wilted, shriveled, matted
rosebuds while I may
experience e'en just fleeting aliveness,
thus yours truly doth pray
to dance (why I'll) while
these spindleshanks sashay
into Elysian Fields
exorcising atrophied muscles oy vey!
Gun is fired
Friction-slick bullets heat the barrel shocking the shoulder finding a new place in its socket
Metal pellets rain like rain or hail
As opposed to paper pellets or those made of grain derivatives
How many glyphs exist?
Those recognized by some higher authority
And how many more are there that go unaccounted for?
I have a set of my own
It is smart to keep part of yourself unaccounted for
Keep it on pages buried in second-hand drawer chests
When does a spider's web become a cobweb?
How much dust has to fall?
How many days?
Can we quantify it?
Dusts rain like rain, not like hail
Or like bird feathers telling you something must've happened above
Something of note
I refuse to dust
To wipe away my calendar
Non-numerical calendar grids
Compress to fit into layers
Layers only distinguished by time of fall
Of rain
Of feather
Not by barrier, nor boundary, nor anything which can be marked
Only known
It is only known that upon waking from sleep or else what
That more dust is there
Or maybe that
The surface of my skin has changed
The fibers of my clothes are more worn
And gravity still complies with its law
This thing that they call love can not be measured
it comes to us all whether we want it or not.
Sneaking up it hits us in the eyeballs and
turns our lives around giving us both strength
and at the same it makes our knees bend in weakness.
This thing called love has the power to move obstacles
to ease our way. It makes people see life afresh.
It is a feeling that brings wellbeing into daily life.
We are now responsible for another person and our path
together can be sometimes rocky we learn to take
the rough with the smooth trying always to better ourselves.
It makes the world go around as it pushes us ever on
A feeling that tingles our spine as the loved one draws near.
When we love it opens new doors and gives a sense of sharing
and we become more tolerant of the foibles of others faults.
This thing called love gives us so much joy if we let it in.
Remember how it welled up when your first child was born.
Filling our hearts to breaking point as we gaze down and also
filling us with strength and determination to be our best.
To make a good life for our offspring after all it is through
them that eventually we will live on.
Love comes in all shapes and sizes. Never should it be measured,
to measure it is to belittle it and make it small. Accept this gift
with open heart for this is truly what life is about. It is said,
that love conquers all and this I believe, many are life's battles
and loneliness and solitude weaken the human spirit.
Welcome always with open arms this thing called love
let your eyes and heart open, enjoy the small things
nature has to offer. They will enrich your life and enhance
your very soul. Take pride in your achievements, forget
your disaster's, they only matter if you let them and then fester
souring all that should be good and pulling you down.
Yes open wide both heart, eyes and arms and even though
you can not quantify and pin it down just rejoice that we have
this thing called love. Ah Yes it is "la mort" and also "l' amore."
A Monk With No God
Delta wave slumber, healing and pure.
Nothing the subconscious cannot cure.
All-in-all essence—creation’s force.
Impossible to name life’s true source.
Permeating worlds beyond count,
With grace, those cosmic numbers surmount.
Divine illumination within,
Consciousness eternal, without end.
“I think,” and thus prove that I exist—
Such an argument can be dismissed.
Unmeasured thought: no length, breadth, or weight.
Nothing to quantify or translate.
Cosmos expanding faster than light;
Humankind struggles with their own plight.
If nothing is greater than one’s mind,
How shall eternity be defined?
A monk with no god Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
9/22/2025
Actions are said to speak louder than words,
Because a word without spirit is lifeless,
Containing no fuel or faith to ignite.
Diseases, for example, strive without cures.
Evils persist where there are none combatants
For withstanding their assaults of wickedness.
God created mankind with the ability to choose
Heaven through faith in Christ or eternal separation.
Indifference to the opportunity of choice is not an option.
Justice may well be delayed, but there's final judgment by God.
Kindness as a one act event is great, but being always kind is best.
Love is an action word that can never be reduced to mere words.
Magnanimous is to be over the top, above, and far beyond the norm.
Nation State is a 'God Idea' and cannot be healthy if He's not desired.
Open and tender hearts make room for others, no matter who they are.
Politics like governments must always be subject to the will of the people.
Question and quantify; check and balance; hope and trust, but verify.
Revivals can occur and catch fire when we come into close contact with God.
Starting revival fires must be followed up with keeping it fed with divine fuel.
Taming our tongues is more than a notion, and is futile without God's help.
Uncommon and underutilized are what have become of common sense.
Values clarification has been replaced with complications and devaluations.
Work ethics and pride of one's craft are not very noble and treasured anymore.
Xenogenesis is the supposed generation of offspring different from the parent.
You and I have been placed on earth with a purpose given to us by God Himself.
Zero, and not hero, is what results when we have nothing to give to others.
Quiet!
Quotients
Quiz. . .
~Quantophrenia!
Quiet!
Quiz—
Quantify
Quotients. . .
~Question!
Quest :)
~Quantulate
Quotients'
Quantuplicity?
Quite!
Quiet,
Quiz—
Quantify
Quotients. . .
~Quisquilious
Quiz!
Quiet,
Quoz!!!
(laughter erupts)
~Quirky
Quadragenarian
Quipped
"Quoz"!!!
Quit
Quackling!!!
(chanting)
~Quirky
Quasimodo!
Quelch,
Quash,
Quell—
Quirky
Queasy
Quizzes!!!
Quiet!!!
Quiet!!!
~Quirky
Quasimodo!
Quelch,
Quash,
Quell—
Quirky
Queasy
Quizzes!!!
Quiet!!!
Quelch,
Quash,
Quell—
Quisquous
Querulists!!!
~Quirky
Quadragenarian
Quipped
"Quisquous
Querulists"!!!
Q U I E T ! ! !
Q U I E T ! ! !
(school bell rings)
~Queue,
Quicksticks!
Q-U-I. . .
QUIT!
***
01/23/2020
Poetry form: Alliteration - Each poem in my Alliterative Alphabet Series describes conversations between two or more people while only using words that start with or sound like the first letter of the title of the poem. I’m publishing the poems as I write them on Wattpad.com, not necessarily in alphabetical order. My goal is to write at least 26 poems to cover each letter of the alphabet. I hope you find the concept interesting, maybe even clever. Most of all I hope you enjoy them :)
Photo credit: Shutterstock | Substitute Teacher
Rock Paper Scissors
Pope Rabbi Imam
Conservative Democrat Independent
Money Power Control
Pay attention kids I will now explain to you the rules of engagement
Wealth crushes power but amounts to control
Paper covers the books of both Christians Jews Muslims all religions alike
Scissors cuts through the political rhetoric of all major parties
This is the game these are your rules
1, 2, 3, Begin's the game of fools
Winner takes all the runner up receives this
A life without money feeling powerless a total lack of control
Rocked crushed to debt by political insurance that cuts your health
And religious institutions that don't quantify ones faith
It's an expanded form of the game
But as you can see the rules remain unchanged
Monkey see monkey doo
While all along we knew we knew ! !
You can't hold it both ways, In meaning.' You
Are either direct.' Or directionless..And thus
In a mess.' No less-en-ing, yet less kenning will ensue.' Though
You deny..Its more obvious..Showing through'
True.' Reality denying.? I find it at best tedious'
Not to mention trying.! And now cov-idiocy is
Really dying.' Symtoms seen, idio-tantric bouts
And much de-crying..Tantrum-atic antic's its
Virtuless incandesacnt-cy liquid spleen venting, venting' yet never airing.' Instead there
Is resenting and vitriol..And severe dis-connect, much fruit less conversation, born.? that really
Cripples the formerly upright soul; struggle of noble
Nations...How do I quantify.? Highlight the prints of such scorn.!