Testin' my gangsta

I've done some deconstruction work on Kubla Khan. I counted every beat of limmerick, and the poet's rhyme scheme is very inventive and somehow consistent as well as elastic and playful. So here you have it:

Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge; italicized words vary in syllables [according to my approach, acting as slant-rhymes] depending on dialectical articulation, and in the parentheses are the [approximately precise] number of syllables in each line, **notes are within asterisks**:

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan (8)
A stately pleasure-dome decree: (8)
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran (8)
Through caverns measureless to man (8)
Down to a sunless sea. (6)
So twice five miles of fertile ground (8-9)
With walls and towers were girdled round: (8-9)
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, (11)
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; (10)
And here were forests ancient as the hills, (10)
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. (10)
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted (12) **This is where it gets interesting! See 'slanting'**
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! (11)
A savage place! as holy and enchanted (11)
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted (11)
By woman wailing for her demon-lover! (11)
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, (12)
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, (11)
A mighty fountain momently was forced: (10)
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst (10)
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, (10)
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail: (10)
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever (11)
It flung up momently the sacred river. (11)
Five miles meandering* with a mazy motion (10-11)
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, (10)
Then reached the caverns measureless to man, (10)
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: (10-11) **this one's interesting--it's probably 11**
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far (10)
Ancestral voices prophesying war! (10)
The shadow of the dome of pleasure (9)
Floated midway on the waves; (7)
Where was heard the mingled measure (8)
From the fountain and the caves. (7)
It was a miracle of rare device, (9)
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! (10)
A damsel with a dulcimer (8)
In a vision once I saw: (7)
It was an Abyssinian maid, (7-8) **how fast can you say it?**
And on her dulcimer she played, (8) **the bolded word can be used in different form of slant-rhyme**
Singing of Mount Abora. (7)
Could I revive within me (7)
Her symphony and song, (6)
To such a deep delight 'twould win me (9)
That with music loud and long (7)
I would build that dome in air, (7)
That sunny dome! those caves of ice! (8)
And all who heard should see them there, (8)
And all should cry, Beware! Beware! (8)
His flashing eyes, his floating hair! (8)
Weave a circle round him thrice, (7)
And close your eyes with holy dread, (8)
For he on honey-dew hath fed (8)
And drunk the milk of Paradise. (8)

The longest lines, 12 beats [4 longer than how he begins and ends], are in the early-middle lines of the poem. It's like he's a mathematician solving his own equation, simultaneously and methodically following the steps set forth by each oncoming portion of the conflating problem...but what comes about is an eventual equation, a solution glinting itself from the convolution, panning out as a masterful creation. I love having my spirit poetically ignited, and after some deliberation and innovation (probably what some will call 'defacing' or 'degradation' or a 'malrepresentation' and 'porous interpretation' of such a highly touted piece of work) although nevertheless that's their issue and here's my first issue, a script of how I'll lay it down to y'all. It's 'chunked' into four or five sections, extended stanzas I'll attempt to spit-to-fit-a-lot-in. Let's just say I'll probably end up playing with rhyme scheme too much and purity of the poem's lyrics coming to my conclusions: (I'm not going to worry much about exactness of articulation because my augmented lines probably have all different numbers of voweled beats, extra long lines are in bold, possible slant-rhymes are in intalics, Bold and italicized words or phrases are my own ad lib, **notes are in asterisks**)

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan—A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea—so twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round: And there
Were gardens bright with sinuous rills—where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

---

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted—down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!

A savage place! as holy and enchanted—As e'er beneath a waning moon was hanted,

Haunted, whatever whereby woman wailing for her demon-lover! **haunted does not rhyme with enchanted!! Does it?**

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething—As if this earth in fast thick pants were

A mighty fountain momently was forced—amid breathing whose swift half-intermitted burst.
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail—or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever it flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion—through wood and dale the sacred river ran, **'miles' will be ideally said differently here**
Then reached the caverns measureless to man—And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far—ancestral voices prophesying war!
------
The shadow of the dome of pleasure floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure from the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device—a sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
------
A damsel with a dulcimer in a vision once I saw: ** (colloq. pronun:dull-see-maa)**
It was an Abyssinian maid and on her dulcimer she played, **(articulating regularly: dull-sim-mer) **
Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me—Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me—That with music loud and long
I would build that dome in air—That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there—And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!—Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread, His word! Care if my own word clarifies…?
That for he on honey-dew hath fed and drunk the milk of Paradise.

...More on this process later...