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The Ladder
My 2016 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 2016 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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Rank    
#1981    Succumb to all such rhythm.
Thus the universe has ran.
The simple act decision fights.
Each person codes each sham.
_

#1982    If I could have a magic wish.
I'd see in five dimensions.
The fifth would show true distances.
From chance hope and ascensions.
_

#1983    Thoughts are like a waterbed.
Did you get any sleep at all?
For any belief that rises.
Another one must fall.
_

#1984    As secretly as ground is cold.
Glee carries a secret best.
Wearied by a weight so old.
That oh we might say yes.
_

#1985    Iteration is a magic word.
It makes us happy or sad.
Dividing us once again each morning.
Making us good or bad.
_

#1986    There's no such thing as fiction.
Let the truth be told.
I'll draw our world with tooth pics.
The heart said to the soul.
_

#1987    I think of you when a bulb burns out.
And the darkness is was free.
And when it's quiet in a power failure.
Feel loss and think of me.
_

#1988    With a compass informed by a sturdy map.
What's a Canadian the captain asked.
Someone who says the truth three times.
One of the sailors laughed.
_

#1989    If one bites the bully.
The bully will bite thee.
As frost upon the window glass.
Records the dance for tea.
_

#1990    Apply the breaks when needed.
Life but needs control.
I will not tell you my opinions.
Until the light turns stroll.
_

#1991    Build your mountain with every thought.
Inspect each and every seed.
Then stand back 40 miles.
And see the shape your dream.
_

#1992    Of all the sciences to study things.
Poetry works the hardest.
To look through mirrors and microscopes.
The moist eye sees the farthest.
_

#1993    I know about swamp law.
But I'd rather live without it.
And find a speck of dust so innocent.
Then dishonestly claim to doubt it.
_

#1994    The rounds of home shall always bring.
Wishper's not knowing was that a ring.
Like an evening's tinge divides.
Not knowing of hinged teen alibis.
_

#1995    Of all directions life can bend.
A million terribles or a million friends.
I'll not wish for direction two.
And accept the one that's led to you.
_

#1996    Please excuse my thoughts and words.
For although I feel they're new.
They're all but oh so obvious.
Most worlds already knew.
_

#1997    Culture has to choose direction.
And to learn or not was his.
When two artist meet.
Something has to give.
_

#1998    One votes no and four vote yes.
And so a story begins.
And always when they wish they didn't.
Wisdom is their friend.
_

#1999    How many raw outsider artists.
Does it take to change a lightbulb.
Some to hold the never still.
And some to be the height lulled.
_

#2000    Peace shall cause war.
And war shall cause peace.
Dare but to choose friend.
Or both when's shall cease.
_

#2001    The wardens boot next to your invention.
Of a 40 magnets flipping board game.
A universe within these walls.
Please sir don't disturb the ward same.
_

#2002    Oh what irony an eye becomes.
When a tear can hold despise or love.
And the hardest heart with hate filled stare.
Will have mementos too somewheres.
_

#2003    To send them adrift upon oceans of time.
Kept but afloat in the vessels of minds.
Hallways may never love metaphors.
But rhymes to hum shall swim corridors.
_

#2004    The spear thus flows to shield.
In the hand that also throws.
Yet no breeze be uglied thrice.
By the art of the rose thorn's pose.
_

#2005    Someday I'll be a real poet.
When I have nothing to say.
Then the poems I want to tell you.
Shall already know the day.
_

#2006    Would all eyes touch morning.
If sunrise could be sold.
The world would need a sun oh bright.
Or a princess to behold.
_

#2007    A long unmovable domestic animal.
That's never been seen before like fashions.
A collage of pretty women photos on a wall.
And they all have bland compassions.
_

#2008    Lumber Jacks and tire swings.
What could fill such needs.
Can an artist love such beauty.
If woman is a tree.
_

#2009    We live on a perfect plain.
It's one inch behind a lens.
Where no one ever needs to shout.
To hear what silence sends.
_

#2010    Tell me only autumn leaf.
How do you like your brook.
Should the water be so calm.
Or move just oh so lill.
_

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  home = www.epicdewfall.ca  
  


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