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The Ladder
My 2001 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 2001 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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#1921    The peaceful in constant battle.
Against the bored who would do anything.
Hand one a peace of paper.
And the other the fight that it brings.
_

#1922    Humble before the one you cove.
And especially the some you can't.
Try to be the one they love.
And the hate they wish they shan't.
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#1923    I shall never know such beauty.
Like a person so hard at work.
That as she oh near sips a coffee.
Which no cost can compute such worth.
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#1924    Where you'll find our spirit.
That place that's made of thirds.
No light, no sound, no merits.
Destination between the words.
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#1925    Let us admire raindrops.
And not dance while sunsets score.
Then let us know within our sin.
And forgive the saboteur.
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#1926    Like a circle of hooded monks and my brother.
Releasing steam from my apartment ceilings at dusk.
Like a circle of hooded monks onboard a boat saving seas.
I thank sofas are my bravest cusp.
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#1927    Hierarchy is a magic word.
We say it all the time.
In fact there's no way not to say it.
How else would you fill a mind.
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#1928    A relaxed art teacher dressed in all white casuals.
Teaching a class showing all my art.
Woman knees to forehead lowering self into well.
Painted rescuing an artist's start.
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#1929    An artist moves everything that is not a brush.
The brush just gets in the way.
I looked at a Dali this morning.
This evening I returned a tray.
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#1930    Art and poetry teach like mountains.
What the hiking boot needs to know.
Nothing to shoelaces could be more louder.
Than the silence of something so old.
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#1931    Never ask a time traveler what time zone is this.
He'll become scared that you've found him out.
And equally important when a journey begins.
Never leave or believe a river of trout.
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#1932    Vibrations are the seasons.
Vibrations are the tides.
Vibrations are a world at work.
And that's why people cry.
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#1933    A light saber to cut antenna rod from her armor.
To rescue milady from those tangled vibrations.
And my usual house blend no sugar please.
With the usual teddy bear topping evasions.
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#1934    Watching removal of a mask from a puppet.
Biting erasers from the pencils of nations.
Mosquito on the side of a nose bridge at night.
Eye to eye with the course of impatience.
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#1935    That of shall be the hardest might.
To lift the burden of hate.
A rock so hard to heave it so.
To find it oh so light.
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#1936    Flowers and landscapes are the letters.
Surrealism banged are the keys.
Now let's type a real message.
Art from lucid dreams.
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#1937    Nigh not last so mighty shush.
It does to end or stay.
Pretend instead though lighty hush.
Woe walk away that day.
_

#1938    Of all my highly scary things.
Culture scares the most to me.
Never been known to heed red lights.
Is the subtlety that stampeeds.
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#1939    As refrigerator paintings disappear.
It is voices that glue the seams.
To bind a world with conversations.
An artist can only dream.
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#1940    Poetry as the frog that cannot jump.
Art as the frog that tried.
There is a distance no words can trump.
That anchor of the heard inside.
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#1941    That is where we'll meet.
Divide the number pi in two.
Where lonely philosophies touch once.
A single night's truce wooed.
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#1942    A world of hope in all friend's eyes.
No hearts would beat that cannot cry.
In rest of names all wolves would hide.
Behind their masks of butterflies.
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#1943    And the leaders became public dreamers.
Their dream diaries on public view.
And the people read the thoughts they loaned.
And steered their ship by true.
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#1944    Poems are just coordinates.
Locations on a map.
Revel not in the words themselves.
But where the mind is at.
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#1945    Time unyields its additions.
Ideas are my bars.
To speak of thus a butterfly.
I must have forgotten the stars.
_

#1946    Suppose you had a problem.
Now suppose you understood.
Suppose you had five pixels.
And five symbols were that good.
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#1947    Life is like a pair of socks.
You can hold it in your hands for years.
But no sooner than you forget to think.
Oh god it disappears.
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#1948    How can a fan carry such rope.
The sight of it even tons fear.
Extremity and judicial.
Two ends that meet in tear.
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#1949    A pretty woman in a hospital bed.
Holding her new born baby.
Now she carries the bus to work.
And looks towards the maybe.
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#1950    Did you ever climb a tree.
Because that's where Tulsabutterflies might be.
And find one upon the thinnest branch.
Because that's where no shy men dare chance.
_

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