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The Ladder
My 2103 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 2103 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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Rank    
#1501    I'm going to tell you everything right now.
That's the classic, big box alone inside.
I started talking to them, some how.
And now I throw myself out wide.
_

#1502    As long as you keep that warm stuff inside.
Who comments on their server dreams?
Fake heart! The grass painted itself.
Actually I'm happy to hear the long guy teamed.
_

#1503    And with an unsilver wing span.
Do you see me not flying too.
Echoing not far as a fun can.
Do you hear me not calling you.
_

#1504    And if there was only nothingness.
A oneness where whom is still.
If there had to be a somethingness.
My dime would make a hill.
_

#1505    Where I glanced among their legends.
How slowly my wish unfurled.
While scared there within their engines.
I vowed not to hurt their world.
_

#1506    How is it possible.
You make me feel this way.
You've thrown no rivers.
You have lift no day.
_

#1507    She lived behind an engine grill.
And I lived behind a hubcap.
I asked her out for coffee once.
But the world was just too unmapped.
_

#1508    It's not even necessary.
I have a thousand-ranges for-rent.
So what do you really want.
Ignore that meaning's dent.
_

#1509    It kind of has a key.
Let's fix it up, and see what's there.
Seems like a fountain.
Exactly like-an engineer.
_

#1510    An overhead projector hiding a teacher's face.
Second teacher at the back of the class.
All the characters from star wars in a life boat.
And a billion thoughts one ask.
_

#1511    First everyone start their heroes.
That's what happens to-a broken heart.
Are you truly being serious.
That's the problem. When-one-hits the art.
_

#1512    Hey you. Right there at the back.
What is keeping it-all-running.
It sounded very good-until.
Let's just "say" the endless-lack.
_

#1513    Let's turn it on.
And see what makes it steam.
How about now "which" colour.
Smoke so humbly-green.
_

#1514    Stop it "was" undeserving.
It wasn't at your beckon call.
Struggling until-once it heard us.
The machine now has those balls.
_

#1515    Are you coughing all alone.
The ego system's down.
Let us kick "sandals" to the statue.
There's plenty there by now.
_

#1516    Hello profits, meet the Kids.
And then also meet the Roads.
Hey gorgeous, are you nervous.
Understandably so.
_

#1517    Now "it's" over there.
Mommy where's my boots.
Please take-out all permissions.
And realign the scoops.
_

#1518    Because it's heavy once again.
And the song was awful slow.
And salt said to the never.
Please tell us what you know.
_

#1519    What was "all" it wanted.
Could you please, pass the shame.
Now arriving at gate eleven.
The weakest engine that we made.
_

#1520    It bubbles out "undo" fractions.
It warbles more than floor.
And "when" it lifts it's hands out.
It barely knows what for.
_

#1521    So mighty "as" seen by laughter.
For it can concentrate.
And-although not a dancer.
A broken heart can wait.
_

#1522    Commands can come from two sources.
Only one of which won't seed.
Where places measure to indigestions.
Or where zero dimensions need.
_

#1523    It doesn't-know what "is" pronoun.
And can hardly hold "a door".
And was never-ever necessary.
Yet poetry grew so core.
_

#1524    Like I would kiss you to wake you up.
I love how your listening counts.
Waiting for years to dine with your nears.
So quatrains I can recite unannounced.
_

#1525    Nil to near our exit gate.
I rush to a further climb.
Turning toward thought itself.
No seashore sand that fine.
_

#1526    Airplanes are new this time of year.
I'm so in-love with "empty".
And sheets again never-known.
It's not that bad or Bentley.
_

#1527    You're my hero. What's next?
It's simply sad-above the zero.
It's your bank account so buy.
Smart counter-things for Nero.
_

#1528    Ha ha. Do you see.
In the bedroom. What's down there.
That's the morning's clever spot.
As winter as rivets air.
_

#1529    It's not her fault.
That music fm's Sara's desert.
Kind of like the weeds in snow.
They won't believe in Everest.
_

#1530    Entree's are at least a ghost.
Fill honey suckle frames.
Lower eyes to the gallery floor.
Envy all the stories of stains.
_

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