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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    
#1321    Every day is a marid of thoughts.
And thoughts like a pyramid stay.
Two steps down from their tops.
And that's enough words to say.
_

#1322    A fork in the road.
Or a fork in the river.
There is no escape.
From the results giver.
_

#1323    I'm at war with nature's hour.
Perfecting my one two punch.
Explaining to rhyme but never touching.
Then winning by right hand lunch.
_

#1324    Twenty attractive young people dancing.
Their party inside a cellophane bubble.
Empty cellophane street cube at night.
My inbox of zero trouble.
_

#1325    So they have my best art.
At the end of me.
So they have our best art.
At the end of tree.
_

#1326    When you get home please phone me.
So I know you made it safe.
And remember to the lonely.
The whole world looks like haste.
_

#1327    As near as I can tell.
There are no focal points like mind.
For whenever I look upon a city.
My nice receives a fine.
_

#1328    A male picking up dog droppings.
Before the poetry-readings ran.
Always dreaming towards beverly-hills.
Feeling it's-good to be a man.
_

#1329    Somehow I'm quite optimistic.
And I go on patronizing inner say.
Oh, no, He serve pages.
I'll have the "not-around-here" tray.
_

#1330    Chapter nine everybody!
Cue the policemen's watch at noon.
I'm "reading" a lunch that happens tenderly.
What the heck did I assume.
_

#1331    I'll try some of that "liken" up-a-bit.
With some "barricade adore".
What's that like? Your program.
What's happening Mac you board.
_

#1332    Traps. Traps. Kind of cross?
In your place, sir take a bath.
In the medium. Seeds I mean.
It's the "sounds" that Siberia-wraths.
_

#1333    Are you drunk? Hey you!
Are you "sleepy" from Canada Eh?
I don't know what it means?
But It's what it is "ok".
_

#1334    Are you sick? You've got yourself some wine?
You can do it! You can do it!
With hero-hero hero "factor".
And not a single dime.
_

#1335    Make a choice. It's in the book right at ya.
Now that is class. Oh right. Good call.
For every wind storm in all the world.
Her makeup covers all.
_

#1336    It priceless! And you left it "there"!
Now I'm ashamed of heart.
In your face twinkle toes.
Now it's everywhere nothing-smart.
_

#1337    She isn't climbing over that alcove.
And she can't be that insecure.
As I was saying at Howard's Inn.
It's the drinks-that happy cures.
_

#1338    But that's just heroics at any time.
If you rise to scratch the moon.
"I love avatars sir" she wrote.
They are spinach for the whom.
_

#1339    New-secretary with-many tooth-picks.
In her hair by the end of day.
From other secretaries, blowing them at her.
Through straws to make her stay.
_

#1340    Woman-opening woman's bedroom door.
So her friend can evaluate the nervous.
Prospects of a lonely man.
Ascending the attic-stairs so-cursive.
_

#1341    Post-apocalyptic food-delivery response.
Requesting your order be re-sent.
With more adherence to perfect protocol.
Please always name your vent.
_

#1342    Watching a motorcycle speed away.
From this view, its-finest minutes.
On a kind-of-highway it will barely know.
Because it sadly has no limits.
_

#1343    Large breasted woman joking about her size.
Lifting and dropping them like in Movies.
Towards her professional-duties.
She walks-onward in secret-disguise.
_

#1344    Point of view only, racing in circles.
Inside large-vacant shopping-mall.
Making plans to enjoy refreshments.
Horse designing it's own fast stall.
_

#1345    Teenage psychic.
Looking at teacher's sea.
To teasers behind him.
Softly answering "three".
_

#1346    Futuristic person's head.
DNA modified into being a goat.
The same way people once-tattooed.
How many houses are on the back of their-boat.
_

#1347    Spock cutting an apple computer logo.
Onto-the back of a jungle villain.
With the tip of his favorite writing spear.
Zombies have trouble chill'n.
_

#1348    Breakfast hash-brown stuck to shoulder.
Kitchen-timer stuck to nose.
Dropped from a bridge into a river.
A genie lamp and-one red rose.
_

#1349    A gentleman seeing no point to warming.
His toes in the fountain of human-taint.
Like retired ballet shoes cost-suspended.
Over a can of royal-blue paint.
_

#1350    Sturdy strands the monument.
Within trust like abandoned glee.
Forged by anger while their irony's not.
Damming how they all should be.
_

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