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The Ladder
My 2233 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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Rank    
#1351    Awesome imaginary-neighbor.
Flash flooding eyebrow-nonsense.
Somewhere-investing.
Where my hopes might help up conscience.
_

#1352    If that was me.
And time was like champagne.
I'd pull the "one tun" rocks out thirsty.
The way "windshield wipers" learn a "gain".
_

#1353    It steals? You never told me.
Just like that "u.f.o. movie" again.
Here "over the mountain" rings.
But we don't have any icing kings.
_

#1354    I wish I could have interfaced.
Like dog to the western star.
But on top of that was everybody.
Showing that they're into par.
_

#1355    He didn't want to say "anything".
No one talks "to a bus".
What's "in it" for us.
Experience "rhyming" passion rust.
_

#1356    Discussion only goes so far.
You've got no sunshine. And I'm Oak.
"Someone" is still in there. So stay with me.
Exteriors change. Wise won't.
_

#1357    My knees in Ontario.
Found land. Made of clay.
Got-lucky. But-are what-oceans.
Might want to shape their way.
_

#1358    What's your Lady process?
I shutter up heaven in disguise.
Leaving some arts to the barnacle sides.
But grace itself, I wetsuit to the eyes.
_

#1359    It's always dankest before the wrong.
Where haven in the mind repeats.
And hurries shine upon the shone.
Where the worries can grow obliques.
_

#1360    Warming up a lucky lottery charm.
By dangling it inside a toaster.
I'll never understand a day.
And my cup just hit a coaster.
_

#1361    A woman in a bed against a barn.
Being photographed if that's called bliss.
Domestic living at its finest.
But only if she exists.
_

#1362    Two milks in "it" at once?
I'm here! I'm over here!
Please put down your phaser.
Hur-raw, diamonds are the pair!
_

#1363    Department store saleswoman seeing man.
Crossing a rope bridge from her vast tv's.
Of all the ways to impress your heavens.
Have you seen where I lost my trees.
_

#1364    End of boat dock protrusion with fixed bear.
Over protrusion with fixed fish.
And I shall make a living there.
Where the rule is not to wish.
_

#1365    I see women two floors down.
And stairs are scary things.
To rise so high no insect flies.
But oh how memory stings.
_

#1366    A hidden room. And a poet's skylight.
An upper window cove, where pillows cuddle.
A bbq beach-pit. And a main spiral "Slide" case.
And an outdoor bed in a plastic bubble.
_

#1367    In the bottom drawer with the unfixable amount.
Of tangled twine seen hardly.
If you need some sing look in there.
Where I threw the fun from parties.
_

#1368    I will never go to parties again.
Because they have two million rules.
Number one is don't eat the peanut.
That one always surprises fools.
_

#1369    Child three card monty enthusiast.
Running away from three unhappy cures.
He just wants to serve a world.
And provide the best of tours.
_

#1370    Woman proud of man and standing.
Behind him and holding his shoulder.
Wherever a man owns horizons.
No endless warm is colder.
_

#1371    True inspiration is like bottled ice.
The Klondike, will forever grow.
Arrange a team and throw some dice.
And be prepared to know.
_

#1372    I have a perfect bird feeder in the rain.
No birds have ever found.
And a pleasure of everything nicely right.
Would you like a cup of sound.
_

#1373    If you find a fisherman on a lake.
No dancers have ever lured.
Don't hesitate to ask for wait.
And please forgive each word.
_

#1374    As faintly as all shadows tilt.
And "only" horizons "steam".
So turning into consumes "still".
Only a tundra keens.
_

#1375    Starvation as a "sinister's" dream.
Ideas won't like sand.
Give them snow and ice for heaven.
And listen, hard as grand.
_

#1376    Prepare to go to work as thus.
Keep hidden from the wind.
Knowing the Klondike "of the mind".
So Barely moves the brush within.
_

#1377    Then Adirondact the morning.
Crack open five thousand-miles.
Soul "being only" electricity.
Who's toast pops up for styles.
_

#1378    Someday I'll understand frequency.
And which is better slow or fast.
But I suspect they are both the same.
With extremes that touch at last.
_

#1379    Remember you woke-up, in the dark.
And felt the tent-floor bare.
I guess you really wanted nothing.
And found, no-electronics there.
_

#1380    But there is a "staple" on the horizon.
Far behind our eyes so rare.
Who knew you had-to be so lonely.
To short the currents there.
_

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