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The Ladder
My 2166 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 2166 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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Rank    
#481    When fun day, has to choose a style.
A whisper quiet will always hide by rain.
As if the witness of all, it has seen.
Might have, louder slants than drain.
_

#482    Waking up every morning.
To an hourglass-loud's silent price.
That's all anybody can do.
Is record the dice.
_

#483    I'm glad you came for tea and spreading.
Yes gossiping improves my health.
Oh probably we should start with that.
With of course the first-time being the trap.
_

#484    I was going to go outside.
I just need an artist to paint it all.
I'm pretty unlucky right now can someone?
Stand up "unless" their "rights" are small.
_

#485    Again and again it never ends.
Unloud like a dancing rain.
Somewhere in the faster light.
Not now, something simple claims.
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#486    My mind keeps ringing. My inner ears.
Expecting pressures. As if weather shares.
The claws of nature. Are a little bit dark in here.
Rhyming helps. Shouts a louder fear.
_

#487    The "next" one is.
But how are they going to be "prudent".
Sometimes it's like having my own "driveway".
And I'm not smart enough to "move it".
_

#488    A new bath.
Twenty minutes a day.
Why wouldn't he.
Red wines and garlic say.
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#489    You can't phone his apologies.
Excuse me, your shoulder is arcing-sparks.
Oh. I was trying to get to the boats.
Or sharks.
_

#490    Can he go pee.
No I don't think they need to. Not this year.
To keep things simple though.
They typically go each tear.
_

#491    In this area right-here.
I think they use a guidance system from above.
Her coveralls and her yard stick, to the table.
Archangels, that chalk boards love.
_

#492    It's all about the word impedance.
Do you dream of that.
Like a dance on figure skates.
To stop you they react.
_

#493    That's, what I'm worried, most about.
That waters, are not sure things.
Holding a match up to the problem.
Beholds our rights to wings.
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#494    Diamond is not a pretty thought.
That shelter of the saddest king.
Each minute, of an average moment.
Disturbing his inner swing.
_

#495    It's, better that way you know!
To get free rights! And a tangled nose.
But wherever exactly roaming went.
I have no ideas, like pros.
_

#496    And lo however, I ride the bus.
A chapel, as quaint as far.
With war, as ample, as sitting brings.
The knowing what moves a car.
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#497    Insane beleaguered people scream.
The fanciness we fall.
On running transportation.
Where waterbeds know all.
_

#498    But now? Would you take it?
Like Christmas again?
That nature of gold?
The standard, often?
_

#499    One pillow.
You just stood there "thinking" in the start.
I think it's trying to explain our-patience.
The "fundamentals" brooms hide in the dark.
_

#500    There's a man.
Shaking his fist at sparrows.
How can he take?
Care of planes near errors.
_

#501    Here's hoping our eyes, receive tainted feedback.
And what we believe, always slightly wrong.
So each and every, thing we touch.
Becomes slightly more like song.
_

#502    I'm a man, and I have jel-o fingers.
But the whole world needs to know.
If only I could type this out there.
That traffic is made of people's prose.
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#503    I know there's alot of atoms.
But one somewhere contains your song.
And when you call yourself bad things.
I go there knowing that you're wrong.
_

#504    A darkness we won't test by leaving.
A tome where no distance is breached.
We live in a thing called a brain cell.
Knowing there are things to be teached.
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#505    Eternity is not so cruel.
When it gives one ounce of time.
And sieves it through a magic rule.
No that's a mean that's kind.
_

#506    If you see my eyes looking out at you.
From the mask shaped hubcap of a car.
Give them a small amount of attention.
But not enough to scar.
_

#507    When we're awake we think at our tips.
Where our lightning bolt chooses explore.
But when we're asleep we think at our root.
To direction our lightning bolt's core.
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#508    Do not fear the futures lend.
I'm sorry that's a lie.
Moments divide cares promise.
And the unknown fear decides.
_

#509    The heldest tight of perfect vision.
Is the sight of people shy.
So many words to describe unwisdom.
The often hurt will buy.
_

#510    The signal to toys ratio.
Is a measure of a website's aim.
A sand where design clients, never.
Suspect that a Tile made fame.
_

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