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The Ladder
My 2175 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 2175 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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Rank    
#691    Many white boats docked working hard.
At achieving perfect singled positioning.
Long before the history of sand.
The more of man was listening.
_

#692    It is not dust that I would harvest.
My work to be done like chandeliers.
So often when I look to artists.
I don't bring my can of years.
_

#693    If and when a song is cost.
A recital hears a note wean.
Know it was a gentle loss.
If when and soft a tone gleams.
_

#694    I look to the poets at the helms.
Finesse is a gentle stern.
Never pointless they only speak.
When culture needs to turn.
_

#695    And traffic, such a tiny chore.
That Lilacs on the way.
Standing up, un-danceing more.
To lend you less a day.
_

#696    Shut up and say it.
I told him he was right.
It strengthens the body.
I definitely know this blight.
_

#697    I'll call it an "annotated cello".
And pretty fast at sea.
How many times it-comes back to you.
You wouldn't talk to me.
_

#698    Smart. I've got to admit.
Afternoon now "soon to be sun".
You need one, any plan, even a book.
No brainer, gather me, and done.
_

#699    Only three?
We can't have you answer "all-four".
Whatever you say is-ok.
Slap the hand for more.
_

#700    Point to the dots oh fancy home.
I swear the cabin has such peace.
There's no explaining what that means.
My dreams have discovered lease.
_

#701    If-they're going to be silent.
They will be.
Nice kings for mothers.
All rivers awake for tea.
_

#702    There-is one bakery in sight.
A couple of people have gone.
Is that the same as opinion-harbour.
Where I've eloped with wrong.
_

#703    Desperately in high measures.
Banks would disagree.
Loot is heavy don't touch one cuff.
Her eyes hold too much sea.
_

#704    I have enough "prisoners" she said.
Abandon hope at door.
A friend of mine if I had one.
Would caution that's amour.
_

#705    In your company how it shows.
Just in time for bees.
My ugly sweater for entertainment.
Am I safe explaining trees.
_

#706    The-ways of living where fortunes dream.
From sky to ground might ask.
Are fevers just an in-between.
Where lightning knows no path.
_

#707    Cars can oh through intersections.
But two ways I pretend.
Pause for just eternity.
For that light to change again.
_

#708    Or ponder with some uncertainty.
Which direction never ends.
That time of choice a moment.
That's poetry; my friend.
_

#709    Each death is a million roses.
Like Cucumbers, at every grave.
Lasting me, tearless until Sunday.
Where onions make me shave.
_

#710    And, as I rotten, through my book.
The pinstripe, is my stove.
And bathing answers every nook.
That Neptune far out chose.
_

#711    Mostly in Muskoka now.
He'd like to meet, all priests in the Regina Sea.
The good news is, they-surround you.
I see what you're doing. You are saving me.
_

#712    Over-scopes as my mansion.
Buttons as a sky.
Men pretending, the uneven glen.
Could descend to such a why.
_

#713    Well yes that is kind of odd!
Like cue balls with crazy spin.
Unlike even-numbered geometries.
That always scratch without that wind.
_

#714    The beard was only mirror.
Its hand was only play.
And disgust, was just a little shadow.
Wandering through, ok.
_

#715    Hydration being the only sinew.
That Lakes can share through roads.
And because all-charcoal filters eyes.
Count men among the toads.
_

#716    As stomach is, so unheard of.
Where salt-mixes with the rain.
And magic by all circumferences.
Is still insinuating, name.
_

#717    Gleaming teaches soak the sun.
Gliding teaches run.
Upon the hindered, shelves we delve.
Where mildew teaches none.
_

#718    What we-condense we-are.
The bus safely nets-us-far.
I've been here so-much.
In Canada eh? No touch.
_

#719    I know I'm "reading" it.
Because it's engine caught on fire.
What we have here is a tropical fish.
We are in the kitchen, as-soup-mix.
_

#720    I'm never going to let that happen.
Wasting west, "I do".
His toys playing "around it".
They're in the museum with bullies too.
_

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