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Old 07-03-2014, 01:18 AM   #1
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Default Round 2: 1. oats vs. 9. Certain \\ Certain wins 4-3


Round 2



The Basics | Read the full rules here.

Verses are due Tuesday, July 8 at 11:59 p.m. PT. THERE ARE NO EXTENSIONS.

Votes are due Friday, July 11 at 11:59 p.m. PT.

Verses may not exceed 48 lines or 650 words unless agreed upon by the opponent.

Voting on all three other battles is required. Two votes will be deducted for each missing vote.


Topic


“We cannot wait for the storm to pass over. We must learn to dance in the rain.”


Good luck, @oats and @Certain.
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Old 07-09-2014, 12:49 AM   #2
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It's raining at Church of the Redeemer's cemetery.

"To Jessica, my beautiful baby daughter ..."

She's twisting her ankle nervously, heel digging deep in the mud. The lack of sleep has her bugged. Trying to be at peace. Wistful but acting earnestly, she listens to the sermon. Steps in closer to her boyfriend, Todd. But Todd's emotions are avoided, lost in those sexy eyes, deep-set, like depths of oceans. Her mascara's dripping. She's crying, sure. But mostly she forgot a hat. The timing's poor. She has a job interview tomorrow. Going to get a line of work that maybe he would've been proud of. Youngest child, sure. But she thinks of his smile. Thinks of his storytelling style and if he were the one delivering this eulogy that finds her bored.

"To Timothy, my dutiful only son ..."

He's straightening his tie again, messing with the alignment pin. Trying to keeps his eyes off the sight of him. Spitting image now within spitting distance of his future. Sure enough, men in this family always died in bed. Dignified, they said. More like, sad and lonely and alone all to keep a sense of pride, he guessed. He's seeing his own demise ahead. Gripping a that tie. Dad had given him it for graduation. High school. He'd taken pride in him. Taught him the Windsor knot. All of the fancier ones were quickly forgot. Tim figured one was enough, never had his dad's distinct panache. But he did take his instincts for people, enough to know most of those here were thin in their grief.

"To Sandra, my first-born and brightest ..."

She's counting the heads. Doesn't really remember anyone's name but wants out of this mess. She's remembering how she had fled, moved to California not because of her dad but because of the mounting of stress. Everyone here. She remembered the faces more than the names. Chorus of lames, boringly rambling through a service ordained as necessary by a religion she never had given into believing. Don't get her wrong, though, as she watched mud fling over the casket, she remembered the time dad had built up her tree house right over the hammock. And she'd slipped off and got her wrist caught in the rope. And the cast went on right before softball season. So that whole winter, once she was healthy, Dad took off on weekends and soft-tossed her balls so she could make the middle school team rather than giving up. But she ended up getting cut by her sophomore year.

"And to Dolores, my wonderful wife of 28 years ..."

She's here alone. Everyone's here, yes. But she's here alone. Supposedly grieving. She sees three people she half-recognizes and a bunch of acquaintances. And the casket's been lowered so there's nothing to say to him. She's here alone. She's supposed to be crying. Broken for four days, clutching a rosary tight. She pulls closer to Jessica, Timothy, Sandra and listens as the pastor delivers with somber tones each ribbon and honor. And that's when she knows she'll go on living without him.
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Old 07-09-2014, 05:22 AM   #3
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Portrait of a Warrior (Ode to BJ Penn)


at 35, the walk-in felt the same as a decade ago
lights dimmed, the crowd hushed, faces blurred to faded glow
his pace was slow. as he looked ahead the cage unfolded
music started, nerves departed, the sheer excitement raced him forward

50 yards and an Octagon was all that’s left of his career
a 25 minute Swan Song before he disappeared
that twitch of fear that it was near - a bland and boring brand torment
on the eve of his retirement, highlights of his past swam before him...

his first chance of glory - Jens Pulver for the lightweight champion’s belt
dominated rounds 1 and 2, felt him tap from the armbar after the bell
but alas he was felled in a controversial decision
that in hindsight would only serve to spurn his ambition

his second crack at the title, redemption beckoned
Caol Uno - a man he once knocked out in 11 seconds
the rematch went the distance, most gave him a 1-2 round advantage
called a Draw - then the lightweight division was suspiciously disbanded

crowned the unofficial champ of the lightweight division
to beat the best in the world became his life, his mission
the once-beaten Takanori Gomi was all everybody spoke about -
he bloodied him for 2 and a half rounds before he choked him out

a return to the UFC was becoming past due
so he stepped up to the wrecking ball known as Matt Hughes
Hughes was on a 13-fight win streak, hadn’t lost in 3 years
not only a weight class above, Matt was part of that elite tier
a reach for The Prodigy, people expected he’d get worked down
instead he dropped him with a straight and submitted him in the first round
he fought from lightweight to heavyweight, a legendary mystique made fast
1 of only two men to win titles in more than one weight class


his past was all behind him now, the heat of the lights
beamed down on the man across him who defeated him twice
this was his comeback and his send-off, a shot at redemption
the opportunity to add a final notch to his legend

opening bell, he pushes forward, pawing his jab tough
Frankie circled out of range, his reach caused him to back up
but it was only a matter of time until he figured out his rhythm
and he began to pepper Penn with combos in laser precision

it only went downhill from there for the beloved Pacific pugilist
body-body-head-TRIP, crashed to the mat in ruthlessness
doom eclipsed, Penn was in slow-motion compared to his foe
Frankie postured up in his guard, preparing to throw

it was a torrential downpour, storms of elbows and fists
Penn could only writhe beneath the rain that belted him quick
yet he dwelled in the thick of it, weathered the mauling
until the next thing he knew the ref was yelling to stop it
time melted and paused, Frankie gave him a wild embrace
BJ wore a gash on his eye, a swollen nose…and a smile on his face
his style had aged, no longer was he the Prodigy from years gone by
he was slower, weaker, tired - but still possessing fearless pride

washed away by the storm of younger talent - an unforgiving dance
“I shouldn’t have been in the ring tonight” he said…
but he was glad he took the chance
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Last edited by oats; 07-09-2014 at 05:25 AM.
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Old 07-11-2014, 10:05 PM   #4
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Ohhhh jesus, what a match-up. Both verses very sharp.

Certain, I like the format mix up... with these paragraph-style verses, you're always waiting for the rhyme to hit you instead of getting the visual cue that it's coming. Here, it feels like you skipped the rhyme at times - sometimes successfully (ie. the sophomore year line) and others it just felt a little run-on. That's just a minor criticism, in all I really liked how you gave every character a unique persona - the piece had life and it was engaging. I liked it.

Oats, I was a little skeptical at the title. I didn't think that there was a way you could write an engaging verse about MMA without seeming forced or hokey. I was wrong. The opener with him walking towards the ring was not perfect for me, but as soon as you began to describe his career, it was awesome. Rhymes connected well, storytelling was fluid for the most part. I was really into it. The final fight scene was great and your kicker (or moral) at the end was delivered well due to all the build up. The one thing I think I could critique is that you glazed over all the lowlights of Penn's career - the GSP/greasing controversy, the 1st two losses to Frankie, etc. but in fairness this was an ode so you don't really concentrate on that shit.

In the end, this was tightly contested and probably comes down to personal preference.. I loved what both of you did here but my vote lies with Oats for taking on a very non-traditional topic and pulling it off well. I think it resonated with me because I was so surprised that he was able to pull it off while still sounding natural.
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Old 07-11-2014, 10:10 PM   #5
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First off, fuck you @Certain. My mom's name was Sandra which is who my daughter is also named after, and my fiancé's name is Jessica. So with the amount of funerals I've been to in my life along with my mothers AND reading this while my daughter is in the hospital, your piece forreal had me in tears. You captured basically all of my thoughts I've had at funerals over the past 2 decades, brought em back full force, and had me second guessing if I should forgive my father for becoming a heroin/crack addict after my mom passed. This piece was not the cleanest verse I've seen from you especially with the paragraph format compared to the normal stanza's i'm more use to seeing from you. But the emotion, thought process, and way you portrayed the inner most thoughts at one of the darkest times in a persons life was done whatever is better than perfectly. The ending especially got to me because I had that exact mindset at my moms funeral as I was the crutch everybody else needed while I seemed to be the only one capable of handling the death on my own. Enormous props on this my dude I cant say that enough.

and @oats I loved this piece also man. after reading that clip you posted about Penn's career I had an all new out look on the man. I despised him for years after he beat matt hughs but after reading his story and "getting to know him" I started to actually wish I would have followed his career more closely because of how tough he is/was and how inspiring his story is. You really showed the ups and downs of his career along with the disappointing yet accomplished ending to the tale. I wish it could have been longer cuz if I could read all of his fights in your writing giving the outtakes in rhyme form I would have loved it lol The rhymes were simple but placed well and of course flowed flawlessly and the imagery was on point along with just a mellow cadence and strong story. this was just a dope ass piece.

All in all this is an extremely hard decision for me, on one hand I have the story that reflects all of the hardships of a funeral and emotion out the ass that I connect with on every level, and on the other I have a story about a great UFC fighter I learned to respect done with precision and detail few are capable of. Honestly I had to take my time with this and this is probably the longest vote I've written in my entire text career, but I have to go with Certain on this one because I've never read a piece I connected with more and in this instance that takes the cake for me. I have no idea who's gonna win this battle but imo its a hof battle easily. Dope shit guys forreal. its an honor writing in a league with you two.
Vote: Certain
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Old 07-12-2014, 12:49 AM   #6
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Certain- fuck. This was a franktastic work. I was completely taken up in the narrative, though the emotion seemed to have intentionally been withheld for storytelling purposes. My assumption is that this is based on actual events. My second assumption is the emotional ties the family should have had were cold due to the choice of the father being a financial supporter/ hard work only type. Great storytelling and perfectly closed. This resonated with me more below the surface, as I can't directly relate. Great fucking job.


Oats- dope verse. I think you both took a page out of Frank's book this match. I think the storytelling took the potency out of your word choices and As a whole, that part was a little underwhelming in contrast. This was pretty enjoyable though. I hadn't watched the match but I wish I had now that I've read this. Overall dope piece.

All in all I think both you guys came correct and showcased clearly written, well developed pieces. But one really had me from the first few lines. I'm gonna go with lasting impression here.

MVGT certain.
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Old 07-12-2014, 02:15 AM   #7
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Certain View Post
It's raining at Church of the Redeemer's cemetery.

"To Jessica, my beautiful baby daughter ..."

She's twisting her ankle nervously, heel digging deep in the mud. The lack of sleep has her bugged. Trying to be at peace. Wistful but acting earnestly, she listens to the sermon. Steps in closer to her boyfriend, Todd. But Todd's emotions are avoided, lost in those sexy eyes, deep-set, like depths of oceans. Her mascara's dripping. She's crying, sure. But mostly she forgot a hat. The timing's poor. She has a job interview tomorrow. Going to get a line of work that maybe he would've been proud of. Youngest child, sure. But she thinks of his smile. Thinks of his storytelling style and if he were the one delivering this eulogy that finds her bored.

"To Timothy, my dutiful only son ..."

He's straightening his tie again, messing with the alignment pin. Trying to keeps his eyes off the sight of him. Spitting image now within spitting distance of his future. Sure enough, men in this family always died in bed. Dignified, they said. More like, sad and lonely and alone all to keep a sense of pride, he guessed. He's seeing his own demise ahead. Gripping a that tie. Dad had given him it for graduation. High school. He'd taken pride in him. Taught him the Windsor knot. All of the fancier ones were quickly forgot. Tim figured one was enough, never had his dad's distinct panache. But he did take his instincts for people, enough to know most of those here were thin in their grief.

"To Sandra, my first-born and brightest ..."

She's counting the heads. Doesn't really remember anyone's name but wants out of this mess. She's remembering how she had fled, moved to California not because of her dad but because of the mounting of stress. Everyone here. She remembered the faces more than the names. Chorus of lames, boringly rambling through a service ordained as necessary by a religion she never had given into believing. Don't get her wrong, though, as she watched mud fling over the casket, she remembered the time dad had built up her tree house right over the hammock. And she'd slipped off and got her wrist caught in the rope. And the cast went on right before softball season. So that whole winter, once she was healthy, Dad took off on weekends and soft-tossed her balls so she could make the middle school team rather than giving up. But she ended up getting cut by her sophomore year.

"And to Dolores, my wonderful wife of 28 years ..."

She's here alone. Everyone's here, yes. But she's here alone. Supposedly grieving. She sees three people she half-recognizes and a bunch of acquaintances. And the casket's been lowered so there's nothing to say to him. She's here alone. She's supposed to be crying. Broken for four days, clutching a rosary tight. She pulls closer to Jessica, Timothy, Sandra and listens as the pastor delivers with somber tones each ribbon and honor. And that's when she knows she'll go on living without him.

Certain. Initial impressions were that your descriptions seemed overdone. Also I didnt like the rhythm the paragraphs developed, it felt very weirdly emphasized, but maybe its because i havent read topicals in ahwile. Overall it was pretty good, but it feels more like a brief writing exercise rather than something that moves. good quality writing but could use a little more power.


Quote:
Originally Posted by oats View Post
Portrait of a Warrior (Ode to BJ Penn)


at 35, the walk-in felt the same as a decade ago
lights dimmed, the crowd hushed, faces blurred to faded glow
his pace was slow. as he looked ahead the cage unfolded
music started, nerves departed, the sheer excitement raced him forward

50 yards and an Octagon was all that’s left of his career
a 25 minute Swan Song before he disappeared
that twitch of fear that it was near - a bland and boring brand torment
on the eve of his retirement, highlights of his past swam before him...

his first chance of glory - Jens Pulver for the lightweight champion’s belt
dominated rounds 1 and 2, felt him tap from the armbar after the bell
but alas he was felled in a controversial decision
that in hindsight would only serve to spurn his ambition

his second crack at the title, redemption beckoned
Caol Uno - a man he once knocked out in 11 seconds
the rematch went the distance, most gave him a 1-2 round advantage
called a Draw - then the lightweight division was suspiciously disbanded

crowned the unofficial champ of the lightweight division
to beat the best in the world became his life, his mission
the once-beaten Takanori Gomi was all everybody spoke about -
he bloodied him for 2 and a half rounds before he choked him out

a return to the UFC was becoming past due
so he stepped up to the wrecking ball known as Matt Hughes
Hughes was on a 13-fight win streak, hadn’t lost in 3 years
not only a weight class above, Matt was part of that elite tier
a reach for The Prodigy, people expected he’d get worked down
instead he dropped him with a straight and submitted him in the first round
he fought from lightweight to heavyweight, a legendary mystique made fast
1 of only two men to win titles in more than one weight class


his past was all behind him now, the heat of the lights
beamed down on the man across him who defeated him twice
this was his comeback and his send-off, a shot at redemption
the opportunity to add a final notch to his legend

opening bell, he pushes forward, pawing his jab tough
Frankie circled out of range, his reach caused him to back up
but it was only a matter of time until he figured out his rhythm
and he began to pepper Penn with combos in laser precision

it only went downhill from there for the beloved Pacific pugilist
body-body-head-TRIP, crashed to the mat in ruthlessness
doom eclipsed, Penn was in slow-motion compared to his foe
Frankie postured up in his guard, preparing to throw

it was a torrential downpour, storms of elbows and fists
Penn could only writhe beneath the rain that belted him quick
yet he dwelled in the thick of it, weathered the mauling
until the next thing he knew the ref was yelling to stop it
time melted and paused, Frankie gave him a wild embrace
BJ wore a gash on his eye, a swollen nose…and a smile on his face
his style had aged, no longer was he the Prodigy from years gone by
he was slower, weaker, tired - but still possessing fearless pride

washed away by the storm of younger talent - an unforgiving dance
“I shouldn’t have been in the ring tonight” he said…
but he was glad he took the chance

Oats good story but the ending felt forced. Really cool connection to topic. Lots of fractal language use/ metaphors that kinda worked upward towards the theme, like wild embrace, torrential downpour, etc.



cool battle, i gotta give it to Oats. enjoyed it from the very first read through, everything meshed well and the progression was crystal clear
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Old 07-12-2014, 03:12 PM   #8
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First of all, I think the paragraph style of writing topical verses will never be the “cool” or “hip”, but rather a wack attempt to “switch it up”. This really isn’t for short stories, I mean if youre going to write in that format, your flow better be fucking dope and airtight or its just not gonna work for me. I don’t know if certain intentionally tried to blend his into more of a “short story” rather than a verse, but his flow was horrid. It was rare something read like a verse rather than an actual story. Cool story though, should expand on it without forcing rhymes into place. Oats however, had kind of a col thing going, then nothing really happened, the “plot” fell flat imo. Cool, crisp wording and dope flow though made up for it

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Old 07-12-2014, 08:42 PM   #9
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CERTAIN..NOW FINISH HIM

Quote:
Originally Posted by YDK View Post
your piece forreal had me in tears.
0 w8.


This was a good battle. I had a clear winner, after about the second read, and it pains me to say it.

Oats came out with an ode to his Hawaiian counterpart. Which is cool. I liked it. I liked it, and I liked it. IT was cool. IT was great. It was simple. Too simple. There wasnt really anything to it. It was just an ode, a rhyming demographic to a career, and the effect it had on him personally (which was a cool touch). But it seemed to predictable. My recipe is, if its predictable, make it great. If it's complex, make it simple. This just read too much into it and didnt really cooperate with the topic as Id like it to be, and I know you can do it in.

Certain, my quarrel with you is that you suck. You used to be good, but maybe it's because I transferred some of my chakra to you via telepathy. Now that I've stopped granting these powers, you've become human, and with your time constraints, you'll get fucked up with the big dogs. Luckily, for you, oats spared you. This can be lovely for Oats, if he wins. ButI don't think he has it here. My least liked part of this verse, was the third one, idk who that is, I forget. The brilliant daughter. It was soooooooo rushed, and so fixated. It really was pretty bad and monotone. And sort of sucked out the OOMPH of the other little paragraph snippets. You did enough. Didn't live up to the hype and extremely close. Certain
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Quote:
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If mentioned in a discussion its who'd still use wordy lines and act all dope
Then again hes had this schtick so long he like bb da bb da bb thats all folks
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Old 07-13-2014, 12:24 AM   #10
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What an interesting match-up we have here. You both presented two pieces that aren't of your normal output. But this was an enjoyable read from both of you.

@Certain, at first read-through, I was a bit skeptical because of the paragraph direction you took here. But reading your story, I was drawn in from beginning to end. Apparently, your piece centered around a funeral at a church. The opening line before each stanza was the pastor? giving the eulogy, and I thought that was pretty cool how after each mention of the characters, you went into describing them. You did a good job of painting a picture of each one. You didn't overdo it, you did just enough and you kept it in line with the overall direction and tone of your story. Usually in pieces with paragraph style, an emphasis is placed on rhyming heavily, but you did it very differently. While it wasn't fluid, you did manage to string your lines together fairly well. It reminds me of a piece zygote did, that script style, except, he didn't rhyme at all. I think what most impressed me outside of managing to provide a good story in this style, is the tone. I felt a sense of darkness, melancholy, wonder- I imagine a funeral in the midst of a light rainfall, grey clouds.... it really made everything fit together. You nailed the topic very well, overall.

@oats, first off, I was a bit shocked at the direction you took, because it's not like a traditional verse you usually drop, and I figure that maybe you put this together in a short amount of time. Nonetheless, this was a very cool read. Definitely reminds me of something Frank would put together, except, it has your personal flavor. I liked you you gave us a chronicle of a MMA/UFC fighter? whom I don't know, but I can tell you obviously did your research or knew about him. Your descriptions/details really shined in your story. The way you were able to not only describe the octagon setting in the beginning, a bit of some fights and also piece together his character traits, was top notch. Of course, the fluid rhyming from line to line helped as well. It made for an easy read, and was very enjoyable, fun. In connection to the topic, I believe you hit on it well, going a more safer, traditional route than Certain.


A great read on both ends, easily BOTW in this second round. I wouldn't necessarily say it's HOF as YDK mentioned, but definitely a close bout. While I liked both takes on the topic, one of you drew me in more. oats, I liked your piece. It had the touch of a typical oats verse, scheme and description wise. On the other hand I felt it was a bit too safe in comparison to Certain's story. His was riskier, going with a paragraph style, but as he also had good descriptions, his content struck me more. I felt oats wrote very well, but I was expecting something more in depth, unique. I felt Certain delivered that uniqueness in this bout. Good match.

MVGT: Certain. Good job by both competitors.
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