For men I have heard it said
now let's get real
You are only as young
as the woman you feel
Chronologically I am almost seventy eight
biologically I am only thirty four
Am aiming to live way past
this so called "old' age of four score
Pretend I am Methuselah who reputedly reached
the age of nine hundred and sixty nine
Disputation, were they solar years or lunar months
a pristine environment no doubt reduced the ageing rate of decline
No matter how long I'm here
it's quality of life I'll always seek
Live in the moment there is no future or no past
quantity we have some choice I'll always strive to reach my peak
They sound very similar
they are in no way twins
one is sweet
one is a sin
Our instinctive want for quality,
Conscious brushing off of quantity,
As quantity reaps in annoyance,
While quality breathes out balance.
Quotes of quality beats quantity,
Equal irony to a cat-loved person,
When they reason the clingy cats,
As more loving quantifiable quality.
The notions of quality and quantity,
Should ground mutually inclusive,
Not quality thriving off on quantity,
Nor quantity demeaning out quality.
Every love language is different,
Not the same him her you I,
Proving both defeats its purpose,
With two persons ending in sigh.
No longer should the notions be,
The usual quality beats quantity,
Rather how impressions ought be,
Quality and quantity in matrimony.
Quality Versus Quantity seems to be a reason for debate,
Although I don't know why or who would even hesitate
To set aside and place quality in a class much preferred,
Since quantity is a number and over quality, seems absurd.
When we think of friends, it's not the number of, the amount,
But rather the quality of our friends that does only count.
True friends are less in number but true ones always care,
While all the rest when you need them, won't likely be there.
I have to chuckle at all those who seek followers and likes,
Not looking for quality but quantity for their mood spikes.
I'd rather have a few who I know are supportive and true,
Than a gazillion who could really care less about what I do.
It seems in this world fake and artificial are in favour,
Leaving those who choose real as the element to savour,
As fewer in number and are becoming fewer, rarer every day,
But of the few I'd rather be; the fake game, I'll not ever play.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-05-03 10:54:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.
Quality not quantity
The content of a man,
Determine his ability,
The ability of a leader
Is not base on mere words,
But his actions,
All day we sit and listen,
To the lips,
of the men,
on the hills,
Of power,
As words of change,
Constantly flow ,
Through there words,
With all ears,
We humblely expect a messiah,
Yet all we get is,
quantity,
And quantities of lies,
In Africa,
Oh!
There must be a man of Love,
A man of God,
A man who know a truth,
Behind the unknown,
We need no more quantities of promises,
In the third world and all over the globe,
all we need,
Are men of quality,
Not empty men of quantities,
With no quality of truth.
When Silence of fear is broken,
Reality become
Quality not quantity
of all the reasons
to keep from doing,
this one has got you
in a bind, you’ve started
to believe in everything
but yourself &
all that energy my friend,
it takes time.
now, time is not something
you get more of, time is
not something that they will
successfully sell you
(at least not yet) & so,
for the moment, what you
see is what you get, but what
you know is not all you
can learn, with so much
out there, with so much
to find, to stop looking at
this point seems a bit,
how shall we say,
****ing stupid.
it’s the quantity of
experience, the process of
the doing, the numerous
flashes of light & not
to dwell or discern on
the individual bursts
as if to think that the last
one you presently have
seen will be the last one &
to relish---
too much thinking
not enough doing
judge ourselves by our
actions & not by our
ideas who may never make it
off the drawing board.
being kind to the artist inside,
being kind to the personality
that flourishes,
being kind to the heart that
wants to beat,
being kind to the mind that
wants to know
just what it is like to stop
worry about what it is like to
express oneself &
live.
water color glass
red blue...poured separately
quantity in it
if torch light flash on
same color gives reflection
quality of it
Known you..
I’ve known you in oh so many forms
weak, spineless, pitiful
yet sucking it all up, sucking it all in
the nectar of every soldier bee
goes to fill your whimpering form
look how you grovel to the leader
a mere ruse to suck dry the abundance of others
Soft and sweet and pleasant
but bitten the hand that fed you one too many time
Loving you caring for you .. basically a death sentence
a deal killer that’s what you are
a rabid queen of heart without a flamingo’s head
to bash against the balls of life so ..
you use the balls of others to climb UP
to sneak under .. to support your jellied form
Known YOU?
Hell yes I’ve known you ..
and it’s about time I cut the bloody cord.
Good bye .. Friend
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