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The Ladder
My 2056 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 2056 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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Rank    
#481    The weight of Shakespeare on a chair.
As old as distain glass.
I caught the writer moving so.
The hardest sting to ask.
_

#482    Packing deliveries, I've never seen.
Salinger, rise no more.
As I would hold, out one hand.
Do you suggest what for.
_

#483    If I gave you moon dust.
Would you throw it in the trash.
Or forgive a man for soon must.
If he was quiet enough to ask.
_

#484    The world is exactly as exciting.
As stimulation-levels too low recede.
Like a poet saying you have a symbolism.
As normal as wind blown deeds.
_

#485    It was just a test. But was never removed.
I'm glad it was just the two of us.
Let's stay away from that stuff called guess what.
As you can see it burns by wind gust.
_

#486    A reed releases its seed to the wind.
As the best effort it can possibly do.
To ensure that the water level does not recede.
Excuse me may I shy to you.
_

#487    She dances inside my sky thoughts nightly.
So I can never go up there.
Staircases are-only for the idle.
I will always rest down here.
_

#488    Ready ready, hurry hurry!
Snap the sorry cast on.
Not for me. Not for tea.
He's not even sure of Captain.
_

#489    Comically given the dance of tune.
Re-motorized for traction.
Into the wells do never sweep.
The truly half done action.
_

#490    And here is the seven forty five.
Right on times and true.
And men begin the castings then.
The wait at Shakespeare's shoe.
_

#491    On the front yard lawns.
I saw a horrible fight today.
Infinity surrounded eons.
Good thing I looked away.
_

#492    Right for candy! Wrong for gold.
My very-berry castings.
Liver-shiver, I've been told.
Is ripe, and filled till taskings.
_

#493    But stars have beauty over there.
Son, you have no passion.
The rise in meadows have one bloom.
The blue, of plastic masks on.
_

#494    To be most proud of an empty quiver.
And not wield a frozen whip.
To stand in the way of an endless shiver.
And not need a spoken quip.
_

#495    Arrivals by an engine's evermore.
The Frost-Goals, within two meek's.
His paintings-divide each cup of tea.
Her paintings-divide strong weeks.
_

#496    I pondered the existence of.
Might there be a perfect lake.
I'll walk into after sun rain puddles.
But like your eyes I'll hesitate.
_

#497    If he measures good souls by their ounce of bad.
And bad souls by their ounce of good.
Santa Claus must sometimes be sad.
And wish he held such a gem if he could.
_

#498    Moonlight silhouette of a flea inside a parasite.
On the stomach of mankind's all.
A look to the curtains, a touch of the havens.
And of course a wisdom's brawl.
_

#499    To make a decision without the twist.
When innocence gets that notion.
To walk unwrung where writhe persists.
That nice directionless motion.
_

#500    Be quiet when you hold a human being.
And try hard not to hurt their spin.
Of all the creatures that near the Mozart.
They'll have the thinest skin.
_

#501    Listen to this idea? That weapons laugh.
They crawl all the way up you. And eat you half.
In Florida research is fine.
Try asking a practice~target, "can you spare a dime".
_

#502    That music is by Taneyev.
Where I only hear note~b.
Asking a mother.
Would one-branch-make her be a tree.
_

#503    Front door clock with one foot tangled vines.
Of a man who keeps his outings short.
His full appreciation for real world maidens.
But it's just his own errors he'll court.
_

#504    Opportunity rains all night.
But there is nowhere to go.
Gone is sold on the bus.
But song removed the road.
_

#505    And when she looks at the raining frogs.
And wonders why life is sad.
Through endless darkened hallway windows.
She sees my reflection glad.
_

#506    Window open and the wind knows how.
Could you teach me what should men do.
Lonely like the autumn leaf.
Is your friendly home like you.
_

#507    DNA the lonely wishing machine.
Like cue sticks trusting unknown.
Nah! Ignore that silly pain.
Quatrains know, their own way home.
_

#508    In the fog over dimlyness.
The tennis ball of calm seems near.
But hark oh if to volley it.
Which racket love or fear.
_

#509    A person ponders well that's odd.
And sets the dials to zeros.
A person yells that's the level.
And sets the dials to heros.
_

#510    Presently on the semi-phone.
I can almost hear the mega-tone.
Current topic we discuss the most?
Earl Dinkin super ghost.
_

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