Wry N Styles

[Otto Peighlaught]

I've been funkin'
No hallitosis.
I got that lemon / baking powder home remedy and ya pal is focused.
Even the north Cali homeless have Silicon Valley fortunes.
Fortunately half the homebreads aren't really bread at home.
I'm dead and zoned in a dead-end zone with my deadened soul.
Dreading strolls based on preceeding expectations,
when around each corner a freezing hell awaits.
Sent numerous friend requests, empty texts, and breathless vents
from my helpless heads to complete the self-awaken.
At night I dont hate fuck fake sluts, I eat their sense of safety
and proceed to please with vehement penetration.
A rush we ride that young'ns find easy when they're dating.
Then I light a victory match, which ignites the cigar and finish.
The startling difference between normal and bizarre
is inches...
..Inches of space
such as a kiss on the lips or a spit in the face.
...Inches erased
such as holding a photo versus gripping a waist.
...Inches untraced
like a dear John letter that sounds like howling wind.
I've read so many I could have drowned in fountain pens.
My id and heart hit their mark when they faught my karma
so many times that I'm fit to star in a hospital drama.
Between the soap box and gold rocks locked in vaults of greed
I'm lost to see Whose Line Is It Anyway?
I'm callin' mockery.

- Otto P

[Otto Peighlaught]

http://www.netcees.org/showthread.ph...wpost&t=124059
http://www.netcees.org/showthread.php?t=124053
http://www.netcees.org/showthread.php?t=123851
http://www.netcees.org/showthread.php?t=123817
http://www.netcees.org/showthread.php?t=123972

[NYCSPITZ]

this had some cool elements to it. I liked the dead zone through dreading strolls line. The inches stuff added a different element to it. disparate images that didn't seem particularly coherent imo. Lots of misspelling and some of it came off as glib platitudes. Don't worry I do it too. I feel like you're somebody who'd probably be good at audio more than topicals. Do ur thing player

[Split Eight]

Originally Posted by Otto Peighlaught

I'm dead and zoned in a dead-end zone with my deadened soul.
Dreading strolls based on preceeding expectations,

dope. Dis dat Zen?

I've read so many I could have drowned in fountain pens.
My id and heart hit their mark when they faught my karma
so many times that I'm fit to star in a hospital drama.
Between the soap box and gold rocks locked in vaults of greed

Another solid section

I think one thing that really stood out to me was the pacing and delivery. Some ideas were content dense, and these thoughts were split between being lighthearted and being solemn. Rather than your piece seeming scattered, you used your flow of ideas and controlled the context of each segment so that these concepts could coexist without infringing on one another.

Never seemed rushed or conversely dragged on, just well metered

Only complaint is that some of the more serious concepts didnt totally engage me. I didnt really like h the Inches erased/ Inches untraced concept. Just a little bit needlessly overdressed. but the surrounding lines (dear John) were sincere and engaging


nice shit, keep posting

[Otto Peighlaught]

Good looks. Anyone else?

[Certain]

I’ve been funkin'
No hallitosis.
I got that lemon / baking powder home remedy and ya pal is focused.

The “lemon / baking powder home remedy” was unexpected and fun. The “ya pal is focused” felt like a very big stretch and awkward rhyme.

Even the north Cali homeless have Silicon Valley fortunes.
Fortunately half the homebreads aren't really bread at home.

I don’t understand what this means, unless you meant “bred at home.” Even so, I’m not sure why that’s fortunate.

I’m dead and zoned in a dead-end zone with my deadened soul.

This works well. It’s clever. Good line. Good decision not to start with it, too.

Dreading strolls based on preceeding expectations,
when around each corner a freezing hell awaits.
Sent numerous friend requests, empty texts, and breathless vents
from my helpless heads to complete the self-awaken.

This is very good, particularly the relatable third line. I’d have gone “self-awakening,” but I’m a pedant.

At night I dont hate fuck fake sluts, I eat their sense of safety
and proceed to please with vehement penetration.
A rush we ride that young'ns find easy when they're dating.
Then I light a victory match, which ignites the cigar and finish.

The transition here felt very forced.

The startling difference between normal and bizarre
is inches...
..Inches of space
such as a kiss on the lips or a spit in the face.
...Inches erased
such as holding a photo versus gripping a waist.
...Inches untraced
like a dear John letter that sounds like howling wind.

This was not nearly as profound as the structure postured.

I’ve read so many I could have drowned in fountain pens.

Doesn’t make sense.

My id and heart hit their mark when they faught my karma
so many times that I'm fit to star in a hospital drama.
Between the soap box and gold rocks locked in vaults of greed
I'm lost to see Whose Line Is It Anyway?
I'm callin' mockery.

I liked ending on a terrible pun. That doesn’t make it less terrible, but it has its charm.

This was a good-enough piece that was very rough around the edges and lacking focus. Clean up some of the slant rhymes and stop forcing twists that mess up the flow of the stream of consciousness. You turn a phrase well on occasion, but that occasion comes too infrequently because of the sloppiness. I will be looking for future works, @Otto Peighlaught. Also, learn to spell.