Replying to a comment on:

Bitter bacardi makes the black stones dance. (Villanelle) by SupremeDreamer

These black ole stones have just kept rollin, & there be nothing that I fear, while my golden bacardi bottle starts callin. My weary friends much rather keep on stallin; & even so, I hold them all dear, but the black ole stones must keep on rollin. All day I hear their sly voices softly talkin, so what they say is never clear when my golden bacardi bottle keeps on callin. Sighs escape, while my Marlboro keeps a-burnin, & though I've kept my past near, these black ole stones have to keep on rollin. Some reckon I'm one who delights in moon howlin canines bared, & stifling a tear-- but that's just my golden bacardi bottle callin. It's this cold 'n solitary dark that I'm stalkin, donnin my surcoat 'n hat so drear-- but these black ole stones have to keep on rollin 'cause the golden bacardi bottle is who be callin.

SupremeDreamer 7-Jun-04/3:47 PM
No right to pontificate? I certainly do, and why? Because I've deemed myself worthy. The use of drear is obviously the result of fitting in the chosen rhyme scheme.

As for who speaks in this way? I do- yes marm, I don't always pronounce my G's in those words normally ending in "ing". Also laziness will be the reason behind why I won't say the "be" in "because".

And quite frankly, there are pieces written by many other poets that make my slanged perversion of english look very mild indeed.

Honestly Sasha, I don't think this petty retaliation against me doesn't offer an inkling of actual character. But, the emotional insecurity and inferiority complex has been made very apparent. Atleast, to me.

I simply had an opinion, and your poem didn't give me wood at all, in any way- not even a slight tingle. But it was well written, which was why I even gave you a seven. You're ability to handle this is at the level of a twelve year old with a super-enhanced vocabulary. Why do you bother posting if you can not tolerate opinions which don't necessarily drool and praise your work as something worthy of a Nobel Poetry Prize?

In short marm: you're just a slim tube farting up hot air. You don't even have a proper whistling to be fancied as a plump Xanax filled tea kettle. I'd suggest a strong Valium. Go chill.

Oh, and thanks for the six. :)




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