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The Ladder
My 2170 Quatrains Ranked by Your Votes (the results)

This is a dynamic ranking ladder of my poems that changes in real time as
votes are contributed. A poem migrates up the ladder in rank one step if it
wins a vote, and migrates down the ladder in rank one step if it looses a vote.


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Search My 2170 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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Rank    
#421    Test all watch a sunset.
If none presenteth thee.
Hearts but willed with unrest.
Could point to one and see.
_
#422    To live eight decades with no fun.
And not rebound the leerable option.
Like a weird judge behind a small room divider.
I unfold love across my bench too often.
_
#423    Listen to your dreams.
They call you accurate names.
The billions of voices, searching for equals.
Only call you games.
_
#424    They like the thought of you so much.
All my brain cells took a vote.
They want to think of you everyday.
So here's a poem they wrote.
_
#425    Around your toaster I hear things.
Lovely is one such word.
That goes on anything not yourself.
How envious butter heard.
_
#426    Well let's see if you count the sun.
Then divide by a mist of stars.
And put all atoms in a clockwise circle.
I'm forty three cookie jars.
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#427    I wanted some alone time.
I strapped myself to-your dream stairs.
It started with, come on up.
A diamond and what's in there.
_
#428    Curse oh well the golden way.
A million times wide and vast.
It is the heart's most cruelest may.
The mouth must open and ask.
_
#429    Fish say hello.
The same way a field of cotton tries.
Happier in the evenings.
Just before the test of eyes.
_
#430    I love the time before morning.
And the bird songs just before dawn.
Words aren't mean before warming.
And the sleeping are never wrong.
_
#431    On the night I saw a faint Morse code.
From far beyond a spider's thread.
I discerned that signals carry power.
Because power only carries dread.
_
#432    Benny did-you eat the stairs.
Where is that beetle in thee.
It's called a waR-Mat.
It's "terrible" tingles in me.
_
#433    The greatest things there are to see.
Are made visible by observations.
The way the heavens own no light.
Or return key constellations.
_
#434    Sip. Do it again. Lie down.
And bet some honey on that toaster.
She-has inner-eyes this big, that hot measure.
And we both know he will coaster.
_
#435    A world that moves so fast outside.
Tires a seek inside so slow.
The anyway my idea escapes.
My inner eye must go.
_
#436    Does my inner candle.
Cast shadows on my cell.
Or does wind and castle.
Cast shadows on my shell.
_
#437    To know friends by their predicaments.
All choices are beauty when froze.
Standing farther than lonely beside them.
As silence unblissed earning chose.
_
#438    Try not to speak rice of America.
The only way to go.
Dancers in the blinding snow.
The deep earth-anchored nightclub table woes.
_
#439    I love our minds and how we think.
And how thoughts are hills and wavy.
But there's something missing I'm not sure what.
Like perhaps there's not enough of maybe.
_
#440    And all throughout thoughts I guessed so.
Tired is-that sound most likely.
That there must be enough traffic somewhere.
That knows your character slightly.
_
#441    Without pressure only desire.
Is there such an iron forged.
Refined by never known admire.
Steel bars my mind calls yours.
_
#442    No deal nor should has yet impede.
What is swirled by the power of wants.
As rhymely small as the heard indeed.
Is the unstoppable returned response.
_
#443    But I was old.
And by glimmers named.
We only say good morning.
On thought rivers tamed.
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#444    Behold the dafidills with linger.
For as long as we can think.
And measure time from thumb to finger.
And mind as wide as blink.
_
#445    Oh come on, you're not going to offend.
The excuse is in being challenged to heal terribly.
Hmm. I think I look like that.
Are they going to pick me up and bury me.
_
#446    Converting circles into squares.
Requires every-triangle side that shows.
The mind of men, hurt in golden moulds.
If you intrude on that, hide glows.
_
#447    As never say good morning man.
I fight for all terms unsung.
Ideas so small they have no voice.
Yet every man points at one.
_
#448    They are, two anguishes of angel hair close now.
To solving a question once and for all.
If they could just stop the train of circumference.
Turning phantom as its track becomes small.
_
#449    Silent centers move so slowly.
They hardly move at all.
So bravely in a room of talkers.
I see silent centers crawl.
_
#450    Join me for coffee in the best frontier.
Where no place has greater depths.
Testing our souls to points of tear.
Siting on our front steps.
_
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