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The Ladder
My 2250 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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#2221    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.

#2222    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.

#2223    If one bites the bully.
The bully will bite thee.
As frost upon the window glass.
Records the dance for tea.

#2224    Apply the breaks when needed.
Life but needs control.
I will not tell you my opinions.
Until the light turns stroll.

#2225    Build your mountain with every thought.
Inspect each and every seed.
Then stand back 40 miles.
And see the shape your dream.

#2226    Of all the sciences to study things.
Poetry works the hardest.
To look through mirrors and microscopes.
The moist eye sees the farthest.

#2227    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.

#2228    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.

#2229    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.

#2230    Please excuse my thoughts and words.
For although I feel they're new.
They're all but oh so obvious.
Most worlds already knew.

#2231    Culture has to choose direction.
And to learn or not was his.
When two artist meet.
Something has to give.

#2232    One votes no and four vote yes.
And so a story begins.
And always when they wish they didn't.
Wisdom is their friend.

#2233    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.

#2234    Peace shall cause war.
And war shall cause peace.
Dare but to choose friend.
Or both when's shall cease.

#2235    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.

#2236    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.

#2237    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.

#2238    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.

#2239    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.

#2240    Would all eyes touch morning.
If sunrise could be sold.
The world would need a sun oh bright.
Or a princess to behold.

#2241    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.

#2242    Lumber Jacks and tire swings.
What could fill such needs.
Can an artist love such beauty.
If woman is a tree.

#2243    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.

#2244    Tell me only autumn leaf.
How do you like your brook.
Should the water be so calm.
Or move just oh so lill.

#2245    To talk all day and never say.
That which we all think.
Then somebody writes it down.
Oh man what a wretched fink.

#2246    Hear oh world my highest screamed.
Bear it loud like mind.
Yet no longer than echoes seemed.
So wishes known are timed.

#2247    Soft spoken hearts.
So golden their means.
Opinions like soap bubbles.
Should float to their gleams.

#2248    To behold we look for kinship.
No distance can stop our stare.
As we would search our lifetime cursed.
Why did we not see the air.

#2249    Oceans of oceans and dusts of dusts.
Or between the wills of men who must.
A shore line renders but beauty best.
I'll make my whom on the thought of this.

#2250    The flower that grows so small.
Is the saddest wilt of all.
For there is no red or hue so lived.
As the color of the uncorsage.

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