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The Ladder
My 2001 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 2001 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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Rank    
#601    I can't tell you.
The day is still on the table and armies are advancing.
Forests are forest in forty years.
A spike in your Sunday. And the chanting ears.
_

#602    A park in the desert (fishing and purple baskets).
You're intense. And my luck is gray.
Answer the question boy.
There's more on the way.
_

#603    Japan right?
Hoover could use a clue.
Telling the oak wood "I understand".
I'm hurting "me". Not you.
_

#604    You know what? That-too is radio.
Where "in" "the past" do you live.
If you wanted his hands. You wanted cloth.
Sorry I'm-just standing in.
_

#605    Adjacent to my own-flashers.
Where a storm is moving through.
A very basic energy on a hook.
Modern wine wants "you" shy too.
_

#606    I have a question obviously.
Can I take my "insect" to the doctor?
I'm glad he hasn't placed-any fun.
This is going to be "bad medicine" "son".
_

#607    What's dead-in-me "is" right here.
Savings in-place. Electrocute him dear.
There are eagles "here" in this Guy!
With stilled-windows and stilled-eye.
_

#608    Hello moon. You're up next.
I tried to move "that brother".
My summer-fan is so nice.
Stand-back voice-discovered.
_

#609    Nine were Wednesday.
And leaped like gold to sand.
Antique-ing into secrecy.
Like barking is to band.
_

#610    Man never falls on his own icy driveway.
The way spiders don't stick to their web.
While we stand upon the words of history.
Please forgive the slopes I've said.
_

#611    I've got your back here. Chew on this army.
Radio hour. (time to find out).
I'll show you a "blanket".
Get the handsome out.
_

#612    Well that's impossible.
It's-residency, isn't initiated until June.
Here's a direct link to that question.
Almost right. Almost broom.
_

#613    In a place, where it ends up.
I have no idea what you're talking-about.
Why is a man so glad to see you.
Turning it into a game. Can I help.
_

#614    Woman arranging notes and graphics.
On a cork-board seen when I look up.
In the name of the game.
That's for us.
_

#615    Man-unable to disembark-back door.
Of an empty-bus dreaming-how.
In an unexpected and dangerous location.
What should he dream now.
_

#616    I'm imagining.
The-neuron that could never will.
That loves counting done elsewhere.
That-gallery that will never thrill.
_

#617    I suddenly detected. Someone against aversions.
Those ah-err hm-ah oh-well cold spies.
Their doing it, and bragging about it.
Unless it's just those telethon-guys.
_

#618    I'm doing work here
We're investigating, someone six-months before.
John, wouldn't do that.
For lack of a better sure.
_

#619    It happens in the oldest sections.
That glue might never give.
Pine being of the strongest river.
Kind of, like to live.
_

#620    Deep-woman thinking.
While a tiny shy hand reaches.
Out from the years it "proudly" slept.
Oddly just, to touch her neck.
_

#621    Beta fences. I'll put them higher.
That she should work so hard.
Here's my name. Read it feeling stumped.
Society's own-card.
_

#622    For seventy thousand dollars.
I'll kindly hook it up.
That's the one I gave her.
This brittle paved good luck.
_

#623    I'm assuming there are back-stories.
At least I think there are.
We'll have to start counting what-becomes.
Apologies attempting far.
_

#624    Have you read any magazines.
This time we'll need much more.
One fingerprint.
When I'm down to house good ore.
_

#625    Nice bathroom. Clean kitchen.
Moratoriums are made this way.
Rising above the tractor.
With hinterland in the way.
_

#626    Like a cueball scratches. After being mentioned.
By advertisements on the table.
That's cue speed fifty three.
The speed a shadow finds a mansion.
_

#627    A woman searching cupboards.
Her house And vast loved land.
Shadow "of man cloud" holding coffee.
Overcast moving bland.
_

#628    Ha! It was a laugh at seven.
That meanness, mountains crane.
Constructing nodes of valuation.
That, altitudes disdain.
_

#629    Breathe again and live again.
The shortcut to the fin.
Dark-towards hunter-nights.
The Savannah pushed within.
_

#630    Shoe the cobra. Cue the din.
That, lobsters never meet.
Bubbles like the sands of time.
Dreaming angels to a street.
_

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