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The Ladder
My 2154 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 2154 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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Rank    
#631    How do you know where the rivers go.
In the conscience of a dancer.
How do you know where the electrons go.
In the search for the never answer.
_

#632    Thanks to electronic "names".
I'm seeing it's label face.
The worst "art" of unfiltered-news.
The dark shadows that we taste.
_

#633    My soldier and my warrior.
Are friends in their old age.
Though oddly, cafe table choosing.
Remains the warrior's forte.
_

#634    That could mean.
A dust, like angry sky.
I wonder where the yellow went?
I told you Byron lied.
_

#635    It's so upsetting! Do come in.
I'm trying to rearrange the door.
And stack the angles, in a heap.
The good of any-more.
_

#636    I love that!
The same way, velvet felt, was rhyme.
And doctors yet so numb I'm sure.
Could repair a verse of mine.
_

#637    And the stimulation will never fall.
And no more than needed ever tall.
To make an evening a warm must end.
And normal must stall to make a friend.
_

#638    Twice daily rascals!
Phone for backup sweeps.
One unbutton! Two unbutton!
Three, alert the meeks!
_

#639    What did I say?
The lion gate's the same!
BRAIN, don't say it!
So near a velvet tame.
_

#640    It's dark in here!
And no time has ever known.
Pass the buttercup, and some mind!
Cameras are dead in Rome.
_

#641    Dandelion are still alive!
And forgetful as repose.
Making up, such a heaven.
I know! I know! I know!
_

#642    With practicing license.
And a desert known as place.
Emily, for the heaven.
And Byron for the waste.
_

#643    Count them, six more givings!
The songs that living chose.
No one ever, invents a light bulb.
That doesn't know what shows.
_

#644    The spiders dance in Neptune's horror.
Where passwords forget their pain.
Excuse me do you accept Visa here?
Earth is-my home again.
_

#645    For love of time or money.
A river should be, so bold.
Ticker tape, or funny.
And suggestion, just as old.
_

#646    After grabbing the nearest vest or cloak.
On the way to the test of steam.
On behalf of all the best use for hopes.
Can you tell me what each career cleans.
_

#647    An imagined slow leak in an air mattress.
Feels the same as a real one theres.
Exactly the same way falling in love.
Knows that real time disappears.
_

#648    With wrong for heavy, and light for rain.
Who knows where dancing goes?
Perhaps. The very first hiding spot?
Beneath the yellow rose!
_

#649    But I'm a statue! Hear me not.
Demure has no disclose.
Except to say, just one thought.
Five broom sweeps, and one pose.
_

#650    If we spoke by colors only.
Oh what things we'd say.
But our world is hurt by thrown glee.
So my favorite color is gray.
_

#651    When we set sail; "at the Land we laughed".
Trust me I just want to thank you Mast.
You hate me "and that hurts me"; friend.
When over-rover Slows You down I hen.
_

#652    A man so worried.
His "square bailing can" might offend.
So he writes poetry.
Until he's round again.
_

#653    Tangles be my corner shop.
Her hair, the yellow rose.
To stare forever into the mop.
And never banter prose.
_

#654    I Imagine we are authors of our own lives.
But we are never allowed to curb.
With only enough time to think "what word comes next".
During the second we urged last world.
_

#655    A universe with so much to learn.
But oh I'm crushed by gloom.
For all I know are simple things.
And you just left the room.
_

#656    Now I understand poker.
To aim one must not stray.
To make the sound of thunder.
Some dreams must be thrown away.
_

#657    I'm in love with Normalcy.
I seen her twice near Perfect Lake.
She had no reason to make a choice.
But there's no such way to hesidate.
_

#658    I recently painted a blank hole in a painting.
By removing a superman with boxing gloves.
And then in the streets I saw men unfighting.
Just like the way unbacking does.
_

#659    A man with an unblockable view of the moon.
By duplicating himself like a robot.
Odd floppy airplane that will never fly.
At bottom of lake facing hill top.
_

#660    My cat sees continents in the corners.
And constellations in the jars.
And though I never say good morning.
I see near things in the fars.
_

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