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The Ladder
My 2557 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 2557 Quatrains      or show all ranked
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Rank    
#1171    I'm living in a can of soup.
Where music makes the man.
Hidden until opened up.
But until then I plan.
_
#1172    I don't know if I can do this.
I don't know if this can be.
How can I hold you with a wish.
And wish that you be free.
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#1173    Someone wrote to thus last week.
I believe it's called understandings.
With two hundred heard of courses.
I can stand to learn, all brandings.
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#1174    When our eyes see a rare moment and forfeit.
Just how are such windows shy.
Dear NASA please put a teddy bear in orbit.
And give it a good view of why.
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#1175    There on the lake of world end.
I dreamed we were in a boat.
And you became my girlfriend.
It only took one vote.
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#1176    Man watching small mechanical hockey game.
With one tall player standing inactive.
You can find me there if you learn how to stare.
Hidden among the reactive.
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#1177    Anything for a lady.
An avalanche for mushroom souped.
At one point, I had fifty.
Accept the bargain. That's my friend the duped.
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#1178    How bad is it.
They stopped making those this month.
Mother soup. I wanted that.
It's probably over now. Does every-man debunk.
_
#1179    If men and women have used each other up.
Then let's exchange our fish bone keys.
I promise not to flurry much.
And I'll stay like autumn leaves.
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#1180    Antique?
They had only one.
The teacher. I had my back to you.
Drop and disorient! And the spigot spun.
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#1181    Hang on. Hold the door.
I positively need some help.
Keys are stupid.
Whatever he does, I doubt.
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#1182    What do you name your friends?
Athabaskan vessels.
Fifth and fifty. Every-time.
Ginger, Jewel, and Hassles.
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#1183    Like a man's last cigarette lighter.
At the end of hundreds of them on a bar.
I look each day towards the permanence.
And wonder where you are.
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#1184    Only a music lover will rescue you here.
Sing at your own risk of shun.
Musical instruments are mixed with rescue gear.
But saddly not all men hum.
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#1185    To the door.
I was down-looking at factories.
Philosophically-MORE.
Yes-yes what does that mean "Score".
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#1186    It's like the way you see the rust.
And know the meaning is there.
Inspiration is the hush of dust.
No matter what's there it cares.
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#1187    It takes any-kind of steps.
Accounting-his "kind" of ring.
Deformed, you're not-to struggle.
All sad-days concern the Spring.
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#1188    Large man leaving movie theatre.
Pulling up his pleats.
Saying "there's that poor guy from that channel".
As he sees you choosing a seat.
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#1189    Richard Simmons so much more.
Weird-boots the Craven man.
Or smell or something I don't know.
When July-docks I'll understand.
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#1190    Because-I'm a baby.
Because I write on-and-on.
Because I taste for mountain soup.
The urge to copy-far is gone.
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#1191    The rut.
And the search for treasured gold.
Who can see further than their wife.
Yes. Eyesight is that old.
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#1192    Where is it sandy in the ocean.
In right hand to behold.
Hey Guy's! Don't be so tough.
Stay inside gets inside I'm told.
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#1193    Who knows where the good ones are.
With accolades dressed in thorns.
Explain the reason for re-use of boxing.
No passion when someone's born.
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#1194    That is just my way Howard.
I can finish the toys from lore.
It really is something big I can't let you study.
Two honey mints might war.
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#1195    I'm sorry we need more city timing.
Think months and months of that.
Happy go strange what is she wearing.
Listen and mention hat.
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#1196    With shadows from the pages between us.
I'm sorry about your ear.
I'll page myself often from the dance.
And just think about you there.
_
#1197    I will almost "the almost start".
And trolley the almost wind.
My station is, whatever you've bought.
Much hope for when you grin.
_
#1198    I used to love this stuff.
I mean "when oxygen is friendle-ing".
To hear it make the sound of thistles.
Babies in our jostle-ing.
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#1199    In the comfort zone this afternoon.
It always returns myself.
And sac's my freedom.
Sending it to someone else.
_
#1200    Because there is a scholar.
As mission'd as the Queen's.
A prisoner.
To whom I "writhe" the seams.
_
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