So is this about the tickets? I see, how telling. Don't worry the checks in the mail. You too have a phone that calls outwardly. We lost track of the date. Our lives do not revolve around yours, and it takes up time and energy to bring two households together. We dropped by the day to see you. You unfortunately, as is the case more often than not, where completely unavailable. You spoke only of yourself never showing any interest in this wonderful thing that has happened to me. I left it at that, and didn't even think of judging you because of it. You disgust me. Your conduct has no love in it. Instead of expressing some kind of sorrow or disapointment, all you express is empty rage, and on so public and impersonnel a place as the internet.(it's not about walking on eggshells, it's about somethings being dear enough to be private, like my wedding was) You're ego has flucuated, you've always taken up a lot of room, as some artists do, but now you are the worst kind of artist, you are an egomaniac. I feel sorry for you. It wasn't long ago you called me crying on the phone because you caught a glimpse of the reality of what your life has become. What you do for money I have never done, except maybe for love, maybe, don't fool yourself, you are the cripple.

Well it is usually found only around this time of year Furthermore, you profile indicates that you could find some near . . .

Shut up man, god'swife can back up her ego with a massive ovum.

Thank you. :) But I have submitted, and in a manner consistent with the discourse on plagiarism, by ensuring that Daniella gets credit for her creation, inspiration and at least part of the response to it. In other words, the format of poemranker is open to play. Daniella started it with the rewrite, and I'm continuing it by posting (er, submitting) here. after that, who knows? Maybe someone will make a poem that samples dialogue and spreads it across poemranker one line at a time. Would that be plagiarism?

Is it? I don't go to whittier or your house sweetheart, because, i don't regress, whittier disgusts me, and it always has. i would suggest in the future when you decide to drop by my house unexpected, and eat my fucking food, take twenty five bucks worth of my concert tickets which = food out of my sons mouth. don't be surprised if people have things to do when you drop by out of the blue to feed your fucking cripple at my house, and i'm playing guitar? oh, i'm sorry, but that's what i do every day whether, you're here with what's his name or not. "If you had a sacred relationship with those you love, and live with you stop your whoring" i do what i have to do for money. You do it for free. By the way, i'll air whatever i want wherever i want. i don't live on eggshells or in a glass house. You could have told me you weren't going, pick up the phone? Those tickets came out of my pocket, not yours, or the gimps. That was just a fucking cheap thing to do. Also, i would always rather play guitar, than chat up the fucking wounded retards you drag over to my home. My house is not a fucking diner for the handicap, or the poetically challenged (Raphael, or whoever is on your list of potential face cream donors). Also, you took money out of my sons mouth. i told you don't take the tickets if you couldn't go. That came out of my pocket. You could have called, I would have had Nadine grab them, and give them to someone that gave a shit. You know as well as i do, My ego doesn't fluctuate, and this has nothing to do with me, or what i do for a living, or anything like that, don't change the subject, and go brush your fucking teeth, what you did was lazy and cheap, so spare me. And remember, i can back my ego up with brains, cock, and pure charisma, not to mention the physical ability to snap peoples heads off. That's not ego missy, that's reality.

I write poetry from my heart, not a dictionary.

Please forgive me I am new. You must be the same person as this supremebeaner, supremedreamer, and The third isis, as well as being baphomet. Why do you critique poetry without critiquing it?

Basta con la mota. Lea por favor el poema antes de darle un número.

Fuck you you asshole you think everything is about you? Your Ego is out of control. When's the last time you came to my house? 2 yrs ago? 3yrs ago? Too busy spending all day with the computer? That's your most sacred relationship. Perhaps other things have been oocupying my time. I don't need your blessing, and when I came over with Ty you completely ignored him and played your guitar the whole time we were there. I don't appreciate your insensitivity and I will not accept your apology. Why do you have to always air your views on the internet? I'm really not liking you right now. Fuck you. A disappearer? If you had a sacred relationship with those you love, and live with you stop your whoring.