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The Ladder
My 2351 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 2351 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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#1021    And Falconry.
Apartments in the dark.
And curtains.
With talons for-missed such-heart.

#1022    Searching for a better-snow.
An alphabet that's for livings.
A disabled wind that keyboards-know.
The installer left for Lemmings.

#1023    Here she comes now resting too.
Landing on the winters.
Holding out an arm for two.
Returned keys for beginners.

#1024    Victorians never feared that mist.
But why did they save on moss.
Like the search for treasured gold.
I guess I'll need such loss.

#1025    We sing on cats and stranger toes.
A little to the right.
With all organic means to do so.
Toe's-friend is sand at-night.

#1026    You're too silly on a dock.
Tip-generously tippy-toe.
Anger-nests near being-sure.
There are Women. Report their glow.

#1027    I dreamed that you took my picture.
With a one pixel camera gleam.
I became the average of all I've done.
I wonder what that means.

#1028    Anyone can copy.
A daughter and a show.
High uplifting Samsonite.
Please visit away the "stow".

#1029    Five feet in any direction.
Your mysteries await.
To hold a riddle in your hand.
The bottomless kind you hate.

#1030    Stimulation is sold in what's.
Some want none and some want lots.
The world is where that price is fair.
And what's between us finds a level there.

#1031    That concur is a revelation.
And resist but a way of time.
To know that we exist.
And philosophy hurts mind.

#1032    From where I aim my efforts, with so much care.
I boldly be sure only my blights are there.
Knowing "uneven" blossoms having faster moistness.
Might claim the light I dear.

#1033    First stop on our tour, I forget his name.
What I do know is the guy just sat there.
As we went passed our poor, and their histories cornered.
Something about pretty women normaled.

#1034    Go sadly.
So-that the "forth-night" might hear.
I created the table for you.
Little plastic mines, suspect clear.

#1035    If I could choose a distance.
For me to you by floor.
I'd measure out for instants.
Then fill the space with sure.

#1036    And bubbles make no potion.
I ran the light! Fire steer!
Have you ever heard of Mange.
I row to eradicate, only a guy out there.

#1037    Toss a boat.
Any one can here.
Scribble is a function.
Capsize the pen cap beer.

#1038    A woman looking upward.
And explaining the green leaf below her eye.
It's for when a man loves inner nature.
And never moves for wind or why.

#1039    Here's a good river, for your put forth motions.
At great new levels and very moist.
How much faster should strangers conference.
Before cut in shy levels feel out voiced.

#1040    Watching the progress bar.
Why are you so nice to me.
Tummy erased erasion!
Of me they cannot see.

#1041    We still get blocked everyday.
We'll need sand around the trust.
Everybody needs to know their stuff.
Ambitions please but tough.

#1042    A man looking into stove oven tossing food behind him.
Saying "and now it's time for the real heat".
A universe liking improvements.
Including nude descending a wrong way street.

#1043    It must be some kind of sight.
The mirror does not see.
Hung above the cradles pen.
I'm blaming me I'm we.

#1044    Freakin sand. Like lovers lust.
Not going to happen here.
Waiting for just, the right moment.
Soft-rocks at nightmares-ear.

#1045    Gas and copper cutters.
And an entry zone for needs.
For the problem. We "are" rehiring.
Hoping sand at neck recedes.

#1046    Lots of still quiet quotes.
Eastern "standard time" to close.
Why is someone "else so" dear.
I must have-given her my prose.

#1047    At issue an issue is the cause of itself.
I will not let me speak the word friends.
Like richness defined by unspoken wealths.
Let us talk of the morning wrens.

#1048    I'm going to leave you standing up.
But I can't remember my thumbs.
So I'll try remembering my fingers.
As the "I've got money again" alarm-hums.

#1049    There's poetry rising on the albatross stage.
On the next clear what men want croon phase.
If the cloudless blush upon two palm trees.
Turns away her milky ways.

#1050    Well we're not there yet.
But it's an interesting thing to do.
He self-gets!
So he's right to feel, guilty too.

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