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The Ladder
My 1984 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 1984 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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Rank    
#601    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.
_

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

#603    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".
_

#604    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.
_

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

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

#607    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.
_

#608    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.
_

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

#610    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.
_

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

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

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

#614    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.
_

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

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

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

#618    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.
_

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

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

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

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

#623    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.
_

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

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

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

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

#628    Torment bay, my little friend.
So small as look outside.
Where, lightning on one finger tip.
Has more within than shy.
_

#629    Framework, looks good on you.
Though, do-not forget the rains.
For deserts only never knock.
Until a light switch gains.
_

#630    Crumple up, all years be friends.
Across one-page of climb.
FedEx in-betweens the mountains.
And mere decimals are only fine.
_

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