01-02-2016, 02:46 PM | #1 |
Tsk Tsk
Join Date: Feb 2013
Location: Beer Goggles
Posts: 4,834
Battle Record: 36-34
Champed - Lime Green Poetry Association
- NFL Pick'em 2016-17
Rep Power: 9946446 |
Final Champion: GodComplex AKA Unbornbuddha
A Champion is Crowned
GODCOMPLEX GodComplex, Otherwise known as Unbornbuddha had one hell of a season. He finished with a 12-5 record while avenging over half of his defeats. His overall margin of votes was surprisingly low however at a meager 34-26 (.567%). The number is skewed do to the vast amount of no-show victories he had. His run in the playoffs was a bit better however at 14-1 (.933%). Yes, only one person voted against him in the playoffs, that's insane. Congratulations buddha, on having back to back seasons which has put you in elite company. You have posted in 90+% of every week since you joined mid-way in season 3. Your current trajectory is inches below Hall Of Fame. Def at the cusp of AOWL HOF, but certain and I have not compiled that short list yet. GodComplex Season V Stat Sheet In-season titles: 1 Title Defenses: 1 Undefeated in Contenders Match: 2-0 Season V Championship record 2-2 Playoff Wins: 3 Avenged Losses: 3 Final Vote Tally: 34-26 (.567%) Marquee wins Asylum x2, Razah, MMLP, Ullr & Mr. J Championship Verse Topic: Result: Defeats VividilyVague 5-0 Posted: 12-22-2015 Sometimes, I feel like a Homunculus awaiting its soul; Every neuron perishing as the disease’s stages unfold. The daunting diagnosis desiccated my goals, Homeostasis disrupted, as yin and yang separated from whole. In this progressive atrophy I was fated to know, greatness arose Greater than any black hole changing space of its course. I’m a majestic brain in a corpse bestowed a plague at its core; Hiding in latent form, unraveling at an age I know more. Genetic warp that forever changed the way I walked. We’ve evolved, no question, though our daily thoughts Reveal the apes in our hearts. What we masquerade as is false. I watch helplessly as my condition takes me apart, Who said pain doesn’t scar? On the contrary, every ache leaves a mark. Its how the universe created all its stars that I’m fond of gazing from afar. Ah! Forget everything, as the hydrogen flames light up the dark nebula, Compared to it ALS seems like the tiniest cataracts in God’s retinas. The destruction of my muscular structure furthered my evolution. But, I don’t suffer the illusion that bodily comfort isn’t in movement. Weakened, I communicated with basic words And I was subtly understood like an angel’s verse. But, then I couldn’t breathe, suddenly inhaling hurt A surgical incision was then cut deeply into my throat. I lived, But couldn’t speak anymore; I was living without a soul. Nobody could listen to the profundity of my thoughts; Thinking became a redundancy I once loved. Man has traveled incomprehensible distances, Infinitesimal primitives transcending our instruments; This simian form paved entire empires with incredible impetus. So, it’s nonsensical insolence to watch our medical ignorance. The tainted consciousness of a helpless theoretical physicist For not one treatment exists for my congenital carcinogen. Musculoskeletal malignancy, Has me contemplating my body—questioning its validity. But, then a friend reached out & gave me an exotic voice What most would deem robotic noise became my compass. Once again I could look at the cosmic void in neurotic joy And state my assumptions from a place of context. Though, wheelchair bound, I enslaved a goddess And made loneliness for cripples an outdated concept. Our brains never sleep and process data constantly; Energy our heart would rather waste on sovereignty, Autonomy from bodily anomalies, anatomical atrocity. The omnipresence of a universal cosmological agony Means it’s a natural to exhibit rare neurological pathology. To reckon with this dichotomous galaxy, I’ve had to transmute my soul’s hypothesis via alchemy Reconfiguring my sanity by tweaking my cognizant reality, The socially agreed upon subconscious fantasy. Where we come from is an ontological fallacy Where we’re going is more important tangibly. Look at me, I should be dead, I’m a biological analogy Symbolizing a sick man’s winning strategy against an impossible malady. “Mr. Hawking, you truly are a miraculous story” Au contraire, it only seems that way —When shrouded in pusillanimous worry. Recalcitrance is but a shade of an entire mental realm. An overwhelming oblivion, if you yourself are compelled To never escape your former semblance of self, a mere sensual shell. Yet, how could you never having went through a sense of hell? I shall expunge all doubt now. (Everyone in the audience gasps) As professor Hawking gets up from his wheelchair, making a stance. Though miraculous, his withered form makes his act of radiance look sad. Suddenly, no one pities the non-cripple, and begin to parade him and laugh. The gap that existed between mind and soul starts separating at last. Round Three: Semifinals: Playoffs Topic: Result: Beats Asylum 5-0 Posted: 12-07-2015 Celestial slave Two explorers plunging an underground complex, Descending its depths becomes a profound process As we absorb the spellbinding background contents. Traversing deeper, our consciousness begins to shift; We see a secret so big and majestic – For a moment, our being ceased to exist. The voyage has taken us to thy father’s head; It seems he was captured, kept in bondage by other men Where he spend millennia’s suffering in satanic zen Unable to grow seraphic wings and transcend matter’s flesh. As we come closer, and glimpse into his shadow's depth Systemic bliss ripples into our hearts, sadly the feeling eclipses. A glyph reveals the distant past, by giving us a spiritual vision. Here we thought we the heavenly children were victims, That he abandoned us. But, how could he safeguard us? When our ancestors seeing heaven craved carnage, Upon the Towers of Babel collapsing, they disparaged you. Your image became that of an inherent fool; Your enemy’s views were declared the truth Depicted as an enlightened pluralist ready to parry you. Here we are now, staring you face to face… I only ask for your love. Father responds wailing, It must be because his been trapped for so long. But on closer examination, they’ve yanked off his tongue! Silence. It’s only grand when you can stand being shunned, Taken for granted like this planet’s sun. It too will vanish once. Father o’ father, These catacombs were designed to extract your soul. For the hope of discovering your serum plasma’s code So as to clone ourselves in the image of eternity --Reborn like the sinful phoenix in purgatory Burning away the perversity despite the setting. Father, we looked to you to provide the light of heaven But, our prayers went unanswered, making us lose faith. Lethargic energy eventually had us forsaking you as fake; Cathartic liturgy only created further stasis of your veins. Please say something to us, or we’ll leave you here! In tears, he then spoke, though tongueless: “Evil near”. Then HE appeared, a man of a gentlemanly figure. He said: “we aren’t anything like he mentally pictured’. Nevertheless, he welcomed us, grinning abysmally. He longingly awaited us, he said. We listened amicably. He explained: We were here to execute god. It was our destiny. But, a destiny few sought. We didn’t discover him by accident. It was planned. He further stated: “the captive is the antagonist of all man Since, conception you’ve had his contaminants in your hands, Original sin is a catalyst of his past, an aggregate he taxed”. We were being manipulated like pawns in chess. I knew this. So I remained calmed, unstressed. Yet, suddenly I felt this urge to give alms to death. Oh, Lord, I love you. But, destiny waits. No more descending, We’re ascending now to take your heavenly place. Embracing Nietzche’s virtue, God is dead. When he no longer serves you. Round Two: Quarter Finals: Playoffs Topic: Result: Beats MMLP 4-1 Posted: 11-26-2015 Gaia spawned from another planet’s fossil; As told in the Puranas, an ancient galactic novel, That belongs to a pedagogical classic genre. The inherent symbolic nature of Sanskrit grammar Is purposeful; intrinsic in its difficult language patterns Lies a mathematical mapping, grammatical abstractions Quantifying every quantum layer of the cosmic breath. I, Vyasa, have become pure being, vaporizing consciousness. This is not a matter of Jain vs. Hindu belief, If you’re diseased then simply follow what gives you relief. I’m well-aware of the argument vs. polytheistic paganism; Often in these disputes the stance creationists take is twisted, Turning paradise into the spirit’s caste system. We humans are susceptible to the Idealistic chaos within. Sectarian wars are funded by Neolithic agrarian farms, If the agriculturist wanted, the quarrelsome barbarians starve. I was once fooled to think of physical pain as wisdom; An impure Brahman sold me on the principle of religion, Convincing me to pledge my heart and soul to his creed. Soon after, the winds of darkness rode pass my feet. I awoke to defeat; my wife became his pawn of sacrifice. When I pleaded why? He responded: “Immortalized she’ll soon be one with paradise” That’s when I forsook all practices spawned from paradigms. I became Vyasa, the decreer of everything but the truth. I studied until my conjunctiva bled, shrunk, and oozed. Until, I became blind and I could see something bloom. My love for books was a mirage, My previous master sends his regards. I unknowingly sacrificed the light in my eyes to gain insight, Of what exactly? Nothing that wasn’t already in this brain of mine, The Vedas were designed to play with your mind By hypnotizing you to chase the divine. Only to realize decades later in time, All along you were chasing your own shadow. Creating a battle against the agents of vassals Who serve you…. Killing yourself is the basis of cancer, We mammals are all fated to travel- Back into our maternal matrix and afterward sleep peacefully. In other words, cut the umbilical cord to our being’s misery, A ceaseless stream of ideas we dream frequently. Thinking back now, I Vyasa, have lived leisurely. Let me be, for even in death I shall exist secretly. Round One: Playoffs First round bye, given second seed overall. Week 16 Topic: For what it's worth Result: Lost to Asylum 3-0 Posted: 11-11-2015 For what’s it worth, I don’t regret anything. But, if that was true, Why do I want to forget everything? I neglected her lips, leaving her alone in bed, Where she pledged to wait for me in her soulless dress. Yet, instead of her caress I chose the scalpel and knife; Saving lives, resurrecting the dead after they died. I began to see myself as a master of time A mastermind walking the path of travels divine. When turning back the clock in matters of life Each second regained is a valuable sign. It’s ominous, though, When you can see faint shadowy light. CLEAR! The defibrillator shocked her system, Two paddles vibrating her organism. Don’t flat line on me please, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to keep you worried, Or awake all night in a sleepless torment. Now your restless heart seeks to forfeit Its lordship; It’s traumatic seeing My saw hack deep through your chest. I’m here now dear, finally showing you love By cutting into your sternum & opening you up. Cardiothoracic surgery makes every moment enough, Contemplating contentedness while soaked in your blood Trying save your life. I’ll hate to see a myocardial infarction break our tie, Since you’re a surgeon’s wife, you’ll be bumped up in the organ list. You won’t have to wait long for your metamorphosis. But, just as hope glimmers your heart stops beating, why? Asystole, a direct expression of our love bleeding dry. For what it’s worth I tried to make you stay and live. For god sake, I can literally taste your veins and lymph Yet, your heart decided instead to fade away...Exist somewhere ethereal where you can make-believe myths. Oh sweet Beatrice, ever since your departure I’ve sunk low, going into brothels… A martyr exposing himself to diseased carnage. As another women lies on top of me, My only thought is of monogamy What the hell is wrong with me? Suddenly I’ve become something I’ve hated. Someone who’s stuck in the phases, The changes, where life and death’s functions are greatest. I’ve come to realize doctors are agents of destruction -Created to give patients their assumptions But, all value is determined by your inherent worth, And to someone as cynical as me, earth inert. Even the most blissful earthly pleasure hurts. By the way, the whorehouse is a metaphor (wink, wink). Week 15 Topic: “One day, your life will flash before your eyes, make sure it's worth watching” Result: Beats Mr. J 5-0 Posted: 11-03-2015 Al Hallaj’s eyes flashed open, revealing omnipotence His body dangled making him seem ill and impotent. The Muslim orthodoxy branded him a heretic, The same way we brand them as terrorists. Al Hallaj was being sentenced for heretical remarks, Seemingly angelical in thought; Proclaiming to measure with the mythical God. Most religious powers view the creator as an ethical farce, An epical force, spectacle horse, used to steer the vox populi. After all, what is faith but luck randomized? The martyrdom of this man was a sight to behold! It was like he held absolutely no fright in his bones Particularly, when his limbs began to be mutilated; He smiled, recognizing the formless human cages Bonding his executioners in a wormhole bloomed from hatred Consuming them, until their periphery essence oozes stasis. The hue of Hades comes next & it's acutely fatal like a nuclear agent. The cloak of oneness achieved by giving up soul and conscious Eclipsing into oblivion every concept, thus knowing nothing. The shadow that follows us is our God complex, a holy process That inspires and guides a poet's knowledge. Consider how much Rumi is quoted often. As his torturers hacked and cut, the Sufi fell in a trance of drunks He began to laugh amongst those who nailed him to that cross; They assumed he was demented from the septic blood loss. A manifest divine incarnate, who rejected their laws, Rotten branches made to venerate Allah. Accepting he was realized and completely unified with the Truth of Life Meant an end to the empire’s spew of lies. For even though, he was hanging... you were the one being crucified! Yet, in such a pathetic state, only meant for pain; He was still able to summon the realm of faith, The abandonment ascetics crave is still feeding their selfish ways. The mystic knew this & didn’t conceptualize between him and thy To him, the only I that existed was thine. He completely forgot himself in an ecstatic Shath The bliss struck his nervous system like a static shock. Right before he died, he muttered “I am the eternal truth The universe before you… bond God into servitude So, when a demon turns to you for help, Offer him the opportunity to worship you Relinquishing the structural distance between the Earth and moon” Celestial clusters returned back to the primordial soup Their bodies’ separation was the first cursed wound. I, Al Hallaj, proclaim the end of my search for you, the divine corpus rebuked. Let me perish, And finally purge this disorderly mood; I’ve dumped my corpse, see you soon. Week 14 Topic: Devils Reject "The next word that comes out of your mouth better be some brilliant Mark Twain shit. 'Cause it's definitely getting chiseled on your tombstone." Result: Beats Frank via DQ on exceeding word Limit, Frank wrote a top 5 verse of the season Posted: 10-27-2015 I got you at gunpoint and all you say is stupidity; Being near death doesn’t animate your lucidity Plead for your life, Don’t be afraid to forsake your humility! I bet you’ve wondered if the heavenly plane has validity But, it doesn’t, your grave will be the last adjacent facility. Ever since I put my eye on you, I knew we had fated affinity I watched you for months, pacing myself with complacent docility Tactically calculating the exact moment to create this hostility. When I finally struck, know that I was very patient, my pretty thing. I knew you’ll be alone in that cold vacant basement you’re living in. You’re a tough one… I have to say I praise your abilities Here I thought you were made with fragility. I crave your nobility, but I’m afraid I’m taint in toxicity. Hush now, you stupid creature, I know you hate me abysmally! Though I love you, I need to treat you like an animal in captivity; Desirous poacher wishing to strip and skin the valuable for amenities. Unconsciously via your expressions I see your animus speak soliloquy; Homilies that speak on why humanity is insatiable for malignancy, Poetry renders us metaphorically as diabolical cannibals since antiquity. I know I need to dispose of you, but you smell so fragrant it’s sickening. Don’t you hate it when what was supposed to be basic turns Interesting? My little fledgling you’ll soon be another nascent form slithering Back into nothingness; embrace the shapeless face that cripples men. You will know a state that predated your nipple rings, Desiccating the flesh around your breast, engraving your reckoning Forsaking your trust in what’s not God is the ailment of simpletons; The signature nature plaguing the symptomless The same corporeal delusions driving the Corinthians The beastly leviathan that lies inside their meridians. I won’t harm you, my dear; until you can listen to oblivion. Only then will I deliver you to the mineral dominion, Ah! The twinkle in your eye proves you’re finally ready. But, I’ve grown fond of you, you’ve ideally let me Into your heart. So how about I make you into my living doll? Mutilating any aspect that will keep you from being loved, You’ve tasted, felt, heard, and seen enough. Week 13 Topic: Art Never Comes From Happiness Result: Lost to EtH in Championship Match 6-1 Posted: 10-19-2015 Just look at them below, they look like ants from this distance. None of them have ever comprehended my artistic vision, My genius; that I singlehandedly crafted from volition. A blasphemous mystic having a religious experience Depicting the sacrilegious appearance of New York. I saw splendor in the venom, Like a lung cancer patient addicted to Newports. The malaise is all too surreal, Being regarded a starving artist in a subpar field. Yet this time, media caught eye of my ordeal I won’t be overlooked anymore, Everyone will watch as my blood pollutes the floor. I can see my mother watching, salute the whore And the rest of the manic screaming frantic women. I’ll like to be remembered in a romantic image Perhaps be held as a tantric symbol, Purifying others through his fallen spirit. Posthumously I wish to inspire fine art in all the living. Van Gogh cuts his ear off making himself a legend. I’m at the edge, Closing the gap between myself and heaven; I could hear some sadists cheering me on, As I get closer to the metatheory beyond. Vicariously paint yours and my Magnus opus in blood A picture worth a thousand phantoms moaning in lust. “Don’t jump!” A nonbeliever exclaims, Tsk, I’m here to show you life’s true secret, its pain; So you'll fathom why my work was equal to greats Of past and present, time’s infancy to adolescence. Magnificence, I’ve grasped its tenets. I see this planet destined To bear witness to the emergence of an emblematic new savior; One that influences via his erratic behavior; the malignant heart. I’ll go as far, as chiseling my soul in agony just to depict my art Then leave the scars oozing to scab over my inflicted thoughts. One has to wonder what drives a man to the brink of destruction If you are one of the few to answer happiness, brilliant deduction! Catch you on the flip side. Week 12 Topic: Awareness is the light that makes the darkness disappear. Dan McDonald, "The Life Regenerator" Result: Beats Razah via No Show Posted: 10-14-2015 Some say I left my children to rot in a hellhole But, my absence wasn’t to allot for self-growth Believe it or not, I was locked in a syndrome; Comatose, death had infiltrated God’s organism. During my absenteeism, I lost the spot to my kingdom, Replaced by diligent purveyors of the agnostic discipline. The phenomena I left behind became the unconscious stimulus That allowed the contents of my cosmic tissues to grow; Composed of the entire heaven-earth continuum you know. From every being to all the luminous spheres of plasma To every underwater body of land still seared in magma All of it is mine, but also yours since you wield my karma That I left behind intertwined in a dense miasma. Yet, even as an unfinished design, you transcended thy carcass, And the limitations of ye, I laid down to prevent mental tarnish. But, you rose beyond by using remnants of darkness Found entrenched in your cellular cartridge. Yet, even the best of your avatars, your secular martyrs, Have never felt an entire nebula’s heart burn. I was away for so long I missed your development. You went from microscopic amoeba’s, To having an actual physical skeleton! But, I see you poison yourselves with quasi-spiritual medicines; Carcinogens cleansing through metastasis your solar plexus Like the Ebola infested smoker’s breath mints Causing the gamma ray radiation flowing from heaven To be blamed as the culprit of your demise. And, I can’t do anything since I’ve only opened my eyes; The first thing I saw was the stars, the organs of the sky Illuminating the shadow that orbits in our signs. How about that! Without me the forces didn’t petrify The universe I left behind kept on transforming into life, Maybe, I should return inside, dormant in your mind. But if I leave, those that do believe- Will see it as sociopathic indifference. If only I could have opted out of my cognitive dissonance For the madness and ignorance, I had when I lived in the abyss. Fixing my depersonalization disorder made existence exist. For prior to cosmogonical conception, I had no physiological connection to any creation, All I had to consider was me; No attention to equations That if calculated wrong will cause this dimension’s devastation. Losing your memory isn’t that bad, dementia isn’t degradation It’s a mental revelation central to forming a lasting impression. A child loving their father forever is a transient obsession So, I’ve made my choice to leave you be. It’s your path your direction Not mine. I will not interfere. So save your intentions, your prayers. There will be no Armageddon or miraculous intervention to save you When outbreaks of virulent epidemics prove fatal. It’s become epigenetics over nature. Our senses are inflated To believe, we could make out the essence of a flavor. It’s up to your genus now to interpret the exegesis of its data For I won’t be coming back, so don’t mention your creator. Week 11 Topic: Result: Beats Ullr 4-0 Posted: 10-06-2015 Nothing ever really happened at Hundred acre wood. Piglet who had the biggest conscious from the group Always told me, nothing is at it looks, For the truth isn’t provided by context clues from a book. I’ll have to sacrifice something I love for knowing to happen My heart cringed because I knew the notion was madness; Really all moments of grandness we chase are -Subsets of dreaming and pursuing our oldest passion. Yet, I still felt this urge to follow the neuronal patterns And sacrifice the only thing I loved in this world, the honey bear. At least, I’ll get to reveal why I feel so numb in here. I’m not the only one; Eeyore is dismally gloomy for eternity Perhaps, he too feels consumed by the disharmony. Jolly as ever, Poo bear, hugged me tightly as I arrived. Crying the fire from my mind, I looked lightly at his eyes, And said: Poo bear, please forgive me for what I’m about to do. He chuckled and said: Christopher, I know what you’re out to prove Even if it means my demise, I’m still so proud of you. But how did you know? He responded: I sensed it in my tummy Yet, this time around, when I felt empty I wasn’t hungry. The deed was done, but it all seemed so bleak and glum My being corrupts seeking beyond the Cogito ergo sum. Who I did I become, can I validate it by where I’ve gone? Piglet then came asking where was Winnie the Poo? I started ***kling, but not because I was feeling amused But, because I realized this was just a silly cartoon. This is why Poo bear’s allegorical death means little to you Imaginary figments are expected to dwindle and lose The importance they had when you were in your infancy and youth. Tigger bouncing around is to throw infinity in a loop So, yesterday’s malignancy is instantly rebuked; Everything anew, Piglet never suggests the measures of truth Instead, we watched Poo bear rummaging for pleasures of food. My favorite day was when I disregarded the pressure to sleuth Surrendered to good, even if it oozed from the netherworld’s womb Illusion is still better than doom. Week 10 Only Week in which GodComplex did not submit a verse. 16 week schedule and 12 man playoff, this was his only bye week. Week 9 Topic: Result: Beats NYCSPITZ 4-0 Posted: 09-21-2015 "Visceral separation" I’ve escaped my restraints, The anatomical shackles made from your veins. I wasn’t sure we could go through the structural change And still be able to function as friends; an assumption I made After the bond of our amalgamate conscious erased Until, we hardly recognized we were once lovers aflame. For god's sake, we spawned from the same ungodly terrain Yet, we lost touch with each other that summery day. The pace of events that day made me shudder and shake Especially because you didn’t utter a name, After your uncle closed the shutter and drapes And consumed lustfully your scrumptious face, While, you played along with a topless vague expression. You were but a little girl, and yet you acknowledged his affection It wasn’t until you were older; you began sobbing, sodden in depression. You eventually convinced yourself you daydreamt a nightmare, Psychologically the contents were deflected by ingesting cider, Drinking enough of this infusion until you were senseless, idle. Your wounded pericardium led to an irrepressible mental fire Soon, spreading into every vessel of my settlement child, Until, one day I couldn’t hold latent any more medicine files. So, I decided to leave you, And no longer harbor the contents you’re suppressing. Alas, I’m a transcendent made to believe in the concepts of perfection. Each body part is alive and have concocted their own essence, Sacred geometrical figures that show how complexity’s endless. I, your heart spirit, am leaving, It’s the only option for this awful pain to lessen. So, goodbye, maybe one day we’ll meet again Only this time with a deep intent to see an end. Right now, we’re lovers who hate one another for something as plain -As knowing that we don’t suffer the same bodily fate. Week 8 Topic: Trial of Tears Result: Lost to YDK in Championship Match 6-0 Posted: 09-14-2015 I could not describe the joy after I resigned It was like peering into Nirvana with my eyes. For just a short moment, I transcended matter and space-time As I closed the darkest chapter of my life. And all I had to was hand over my badge and gun But, ingrained in our nature is to be attached to stuff -For justice seekers like me, the hand and ankle cuffs. Though, no manacle can restrain a man’s miasmic thoughts. Years later, Post-traumatic stress still has me waking up in night sweats. I should be grateful I made it, but I’m frightened It’s like that tale when Hades when to fight death Only to enlighten himself on how mayhem has blind him. I too share the same fate and harbor plagues in my iris I’ve scathed my eyelids because I’ve embraced the sightings, Reminiscing on them takes me to horrific events; Tragedies only malignant spirits consent. I’m part of the stream of an apocalyptic conscious, A blissful omniscience that craves intrinsic conflict. What I saw that day, I wasn’t prepared for- such vivid content. My partner and I were working the night shift Dispatch will call in with all sorts of assignments; We’ll flip on our sirens and follow them blindly As soon as we took them, my mind went on autopilot. That night though, a gut feeling bled into my psyche. Our task was a simple one, Sort out a dispute of domestic violence Arriving onto the site, we saw two meth heads fighting. Upon questioning, I sensed something was deeply wrong. Both were strung out silly, on their sickly love. Deeply numb. Yet, the woman kept screaming “thee God please stop”. The man smiling, said to us: “his almost done, go and look inside” We went and saw another man with the most inhuman eyes He had a baby mounted to a pike, mouthing to it his delusions of life; Musings divine to those seemingly consumed by the pollution of light. I said freeze, but my partner shot him dead on sight He told me, “let the vermin die”. And so, we proceed to search inside We then saw another holding an infant, but this time injecting him, Announcing how the meth will purify him for the Nephilim It was then; a horde of similar of others appeared Apparently, this was a gathering of “meth seers”, Who sacrifice children to gain some form of insight. We then saw 20 or more performing live morbid crimes Without the means to stop them all, I was ambushed. My partner revealed himself to be the ringleader of this bunch. He only shot the other man for mere pleasure The woman we first saw was pleading for her daughter’s betterment Yet, the trap was set, and after the ritual My partner said in a religious tone, “you will never forget this visual” And if I ever did confess, He will release a video of when I was forced to slit an infant’s throat. The purpose was to transfer the child's purity onto another living soul I did it because I cowardly wanted to live But, that’s no excuse, now I’m haunted by it. 5 years later, I can see the child without even summoning him As for my partner, before I die I will punish that Son of a bitch. The path I’m on is a trail of tears; every drop unveiling nightmares Offering glimpses of dead children wailing in fear, Because the real monster of Elm Street is near! Week 7 Topic: Result: Beats Dancake By No Show Posted: 09-01-2015 Hatsumi sensei was a little shriveled old man Yet, in one swift move he’ll cripple your hand Forcing the synovial joints to weep mineral sap. Hatsumi honed his skills by basking in stillness and trance Peace was had, despite other rivals issuing lethal attacks Albeit, the feng shui geomantic warned of evil’s advance; His path will soon intertwine with it, in a geographic crash, Where two equally destructive forces clash, Leaving only dust clouds that supersede volcanic ash. And so true to their divinations, a sinister man appeared He entered the sifu’s dojo, only to deliver our worst fears. The man appeared otherworldly, carrying a 200-pound blade. He cracked his neck and the oscillation made the ground shake Smiling ominously, he then asked if I needed a downgrade. I didn’t understand, until I saw my beloved vehicle in flames Are you deranged? I bickered, as my heart was littered in hate I swiftly gripped his throat; The only thought that filled me was revenge. However, his skin was cold, Lifeless. He then said “you can’t kill me so repent” Never! I strangled him harder, but he snickered at my attempt. He proceeded to grab me, lifting me from my neck Followed by dislocating my shoulders, knees, and hips I couldn’t believe the Herculean feats of this behemoth Even less so, could I have escaped his vehement grip That squeezed me so hard it made me believe demons exist. After demeaning my worth and showing how I’m meaningless, The man asked, as I was gasping for breath, for Hatsumi. Then, Like the shadow of death he appeared screaming: Mitsurugi!!! It was a beautiful sight, like looking inside the ruins of time; Two men choosing to fight to the end have the most luminous eyes. But, I was fading out; my body had sustained massive damage I did see, Mitsurugi blade being swung and it hacked my master, Gashing him deeply, without him succumbing to feelings of pain. It was then I understood what he once told me: “healing is fake So, embrace each feeling of life, letting each lesion inflame”. It was also that moment the internal bleeding was grave But, my departure to the next realm, Will not be without the meaning I made before leaving this place. As for the Sifu and the stranger, they had no limits to detain them Since, the zenith of creation spewed out their spirits from its invisible matrix; They began to squabble on a cyclical basis, Challenging the typical stasis found in the bounds of their physical cages. And I got to see its apex before my eyes went vacant. Week 6 Topic: Redacted – Stolen from another site fucking Split hahaha Result: Beats Razah 4-0 Posted: 08-24-2015 Children gather around, let me tell you something What I’m about to give you is a hellish substance News that entails destruction, but don’t be afraid. Ask me anything, and I’ll try to convey an array Of replies, but frankly I’m not sure it’ll delay the pain. Remember (sings) “I love you, you love me We’ll {die} a happy family”, albeit sullied. Timmy: I know you’re just a man under that costume But, I don’t get the point of suffering’s value Why must we cover our wounds with sulfur-like solutes? Before leaving, my father left me a cryptic letter That said: “Son, I hope you never live for pleasure”. Please tell me, the meaning of all this! My life has been but jumbled pieces of abyss. You’re asking me to impart a thesis to a kid But I, a nihilist, neither have a reason to exist I personify the samsara in the Buddha’s conscious; Being content with the contents of life is an elusive concept That defies the entire process of our collective human logic. Timmy, it is likely your father abused narcotics And like all other self-wallowing drug addicts, He chose to impart to you a last bit of compassion, A thought fragment meant to be engraved. So you’ll be the change, he hoped he was. Yet, despite his good wishes (pauses) …I’m afraid there’s no hope for us. Natasha: I’m afraid I’ll never get to kiss a boy Or be given primordial organic joy, In which the depth of my organism is destroyed By means of spiritual coitus with a crazy lover! I’m also concerned about my baby brother He was born with his retinas detached Will his blind eyes be able to see the heavenly lands? Lost… who will rescue him, a predator perhaps? I mentally lack the capacity to appreciate destiny’s wrath In science class, I learned when we’re in pain our brain chemically snaps; Flooding our body with endorphins, until its intensity stops But, the pain always comes back with its complexity upped. My essence is in shock knowing we’re helplessly caught In a distressing plot comprised of incalculable hurt Barney, I don’t know how I’ll stand the unfathomable burns. Little girl, don’t feel bad this entire world is an existential trap Instead of getting caught in the minutia of exponential math And the differential gaps that come from this line of thinking Indulge in the realization that our finite minds can listen To the sounds of this world that can only be described as living. As for your desire to experience spiritual ecstasy, It is a miracle of miracles, That allows women to undergo physical pregnancy So as to produce mortal entities, like yourself. I can embrace you if you really want to be held Show you the entirety- the body of a man can reveal. Honestly, though, there is a disgusting smell A pheromone river that riddles what such touch entails. As for your brother’s visceral tale, He’ll be released from his miserable shell; Freed, to swim aimlessly in oblivion’s well. As to you all: I won’t comfort any of you with religious dribble All I can say is if there is an afterlife where spirits linger Be sure to give whoever in charge there the middle finger! And it’s a big if, But if it’s true do remember having a spirit stripped us Of living in bliss. Natasha, it crippled your brother, and may have even killed us. (As the bomb hits, Barney tightly grips the children Singing a twisted take on I love you, Performing a rendition of it that was never scripted) Week 5 Topic: Result: Beats Asylum 4-2 Posted: 8-17-2015 All this graphic setting is missing are automatic weapons, Carbon fiber rifles that will implant our message; Violence is both a stance and contention, That we vigilantes feel demands concession. It’s saddening that we resorted to THIS to grab attention But, my Ukraine brothers are anguished, restless. And so am I… I joined the good fight after they kidnaped my stepson; Doctors of the state came and said he needed to have medicine So they dragged him to the asylum, where mad men stay. His manic depression made him a good candidate For a series of experimentations to alter his symbiotic state But their true intention was a wicked anatomic aim They wanted to make him into a catatonic slave, A brain dead assassin chained to the whims of the magistrate ...Within their midst lies the real symptomatic case. Since then, I swore to myself to not let them torture my fellow men. To uphold this virtue, I had to murder some fellow men, Friends of the past who worked for foreign intelligence. The newscasts referred to us as corporate terrorists But, we were much more. Businessmen like drug lords are just a symptom of corrupt law Killing company executives wasn’t in our direct blueprint We mostly did it to collect funds and get noticed through it. Our main directive was the data in the computers of the abusive, Major establishments who claim the luminous mind of Confucius. Once we got the nuclear codes that will secure our future We were ready to negotiate with these predator humans With their secular hubris, ideological spawned molecular tumors; Cancerous humans metastasizing the nebula’s cruelness. Holding the world ransom, is this really what we wanted? To spread oblivion in a socially unconscious planet Somewhere down the line, we lost sight of our aim And became part of the same design we disdained; Extremists who are bent on revenge Caught in the genocide net, Lured in by the message of death. Comrades, I remember when we first met We were browsing the Darknet In an anonymous chat room, spouting our jargon While, our Tor browsers hid our cloud of darkness, Along with those of the black market. What’s left of the good in my heart blackens, As we dispatch several nukes to our foreign targets; I’m sure my stepson wouldn’t want this But, my conscious has turned into a stream of bloody content That plays without a stop the screams of those we slaughtered. The Nuclear fallout thereafter, Made our group's name notorious, Hail the “Soulless Martyrs”! The ushering of a new age is glorious. Euphoria can be morbid, Depending on how you orbit your gaze—the aura of its portrait. Week 4: Top 20 Verse of Season Topic: Here I was born, and there I died. It was only a moment for you; you took no notice. Result: Beats Zinaii by No Show Posted: 08-11-2015 Finale Here I am, on the floor as all my orifice bleed, The kind of dark blood that contains horrific grief. Hemorrhaging, I get the flashbacks oracles see; Past and present take on the forms of my dreams, Bizarre images that have their purposeful means. I get warped into a scene, where I’m a corpse in a tree Hanging motionless, trying to unconsciously sort out things. In the end, all I learned was that something lurked within That could potentially change my search for that person I seek. In another scene, I’m tortured routinely, in order to believe— That I can forgive myself for not finding my purposeful means. The clowns gather around, like an alchemical circle of creeps, Absurd in their physique, but learned in the mystique. Maybe, if I had the eyes to see the worth of old antiques I’ll be able to discern better the critique, & relish my uniqueness. In my showbiz, all matters of hell and heaven are facetious. Beginning Barely out the womb, I was classified hardly a being My caudal appendage was seen as a mark of the beast Growing up, nuns rejected me of an orphanage seat. I had no home to harbor & sleep, my heart yearned for peace Eventually, the scorn for me grew so large I took leave. Found myself in the wild, where I met this order of thieves Who travel city to city, swindling dollars off workers in heaps. Their leader, Gust, offered me a feast, —Only to then cage me, with all the other carnival freaks Our job was to impress others with our farcical deeds! ….Have you ever felt like you couldn’t speak? Because you have worms gnawing at your throat Clotting up your nodes; parched cottonmouth souls Who know it is all one big joke!!! But it’s hard to see the hoax, while suffering the cold. MIDDLE In my stay here, I found out I had a knack for acrobatics, automatically My motor neurons and muscle memory fired anabolically. —But, alas at the height of my fame I developed vertigo, a spinning divide of my brain. Even Shakespeare couldn’t recite to you my pain, Temporal disorientation is a sign that correlates. Just when I had found my cardinal direction I fade into obscurity, like Darwin’s true intention. But, I won’t let Vertigo keep me from my vertical leaps Even if the Milky way was spinning, I’ll hurl off this beam But, in my proprioceptor despair, I couldn’t sense anything there All spatial dimensions were impaired, and death is certain if you’re off by a hair! So, I fell and miss… Those close enough could hear my cervical snap Talk about a terminal dance, huh? Go ahead, at my expense, have a personal laugh. Week 3 Topic: Settling Dust Result: Lost to Mr. J 4-1 Posted: 08-04-2015 How much more must I hibernate in this idle state? It’s been weeks since I’ve gazed into the light of day Perhaps, this cold barren place will be my final grave Sadly, I can’t just leave this subterranean hideaway If I do, THEY might capture me & segmentally splice my brain; Just thinking of it, my cavernous sinus begins to ache. Those bastards took my daughter and wife from this plane Beaming them up, as they fled away via hyperspace, As the nebula rained to portray the pain in my crying face. See, I used to be a well-known actor who thrived on stage And now look at me, depraved, devouring rats just to survive the day. Talking to myself, --because-- deprivation of contact leads the mind astray. I can still remember the day they arrived, the public was in disbelief It was more unbelievable than actual justice from the police. They told us in our own language, we have corrupted our being Our destructive tendencies are a substance of disease But, they could be altered, like any product of our genes. We were sold on the idea but knew the process wouldn’t be free. And so, our leaders offered our seeds, so they could feast At first, they were uninterested and asked only of T.V.’s But, soon human flesh became a deli***y that they loved to eat. Many didn’t protest because of the sole assumption they would leave. But, that assumption didn’t take account the puppeteer’s strings -Shortly after, there was the disappearance of hundreds of kids. They didn’t stop there; soon they decided to dissect our women Studying their anatomy due to the interest of their truth seekers They wanted to create a humanoid with absolute obedience. Only the conspiracy theorists would have thought they were this devious. Their morphological genetic features were likened to chimeric creatures Who wanted to experience the human experience, the most enlightened species. But, everyone knows you can’t reproduce heavenly sweetness with synthetic peaches The weaknesses of its reality will stand out, like the Devil’s Eden. The way things are going; will a thing called the future exist? I think so, because of the will that makes humans resist; Our civilization dehumanization will take a long time, We’re persistent creatures with strong minds. But, these are just my own imaginings While, I’m underground hoping for the dust to settle. Everyone could very well be dead, But, deprived of light for so long, all I care for is sunny weather. Week 2 Topic: "In our lives, on average, we will be asleep for a total of 8,477 days. If we're lucky, some of that time will be sleeping next to someone we love." Result: Beat Tyson by No Show Posted: 07-27-2015 “True love extends beyond death” Gollum was a peculiar fellow, He was born with horns and looked like a devil All his life, he stayed away from the public at large His existence was marked as a bad judgment from God. In his youth, he tried hard to purify his body But, ultimately even surgeons couldn’t redesign his body His devilish features had neural connections to his brain. And so, the essence of what he eventually became Is a testament of the fate of how he walked- with unheavenly gait. As Gollum aged, he accepted living in a polluted temple. Nevertheless, gloominess enveloped his wounded vessel. His keen curiosity for oddity soon developed, The oddball sought love’s salvation among a putrid hellhole. Working night shifts, his tired eyes had a hue of yellow Jaundice like, it’s a miraculous wonder he was fine I guess he was reinvigorated that one thunderous ominous night. The moment he saw his beloved he went out of his mind Literally, at first sight, the monster inside him came running by Only to be quickly mummified by the coffin’s design. He forsook the sanctity of the gravestone Finally finding home in his soulmate’s bones. Every day he’ll caress the cold skin of the love of his life, Whispering onto her how he’ll soon summon her alive. All the while, her form was kept from decay with formaldehyde, A chemical that immortalizes that which was born to die. The suppleness and the subtleness of everything she was He thought he understood it all, just because He’ll spend hours awed by her skeleton’s thoughts Which are none, because obviously the dead are gone. Gollum knew this but accepted the notion as flawed. As you can see, love can bypass emotional laws And physical needs, such as sleep, the human disease. After all, we’re nothing but the sum of our beliefs. To the hopeless romantics, love is the ocean and stars That when we don’t have it starts eroding our blood. Until, the day our heart breaks, knowing all along That possessing what we love is akin to exorcism. In a sense, Gollum’s necrophilia is our own mental sickness Created because we shunned his likeness to our ancestor’s spirit, His unforgettable hellish image is still segmented in us Like genetic stitches that hold together our desolate lineage. Week 1 Topic: Result: Lost to Razah 3-2 Posted: 07-15-2015 Long ago, the Chief Elder spoke of a prophecy Foreseeing omens that will hold our souls under sovereignty; Our foes will arrive in strange boats forming colonies They’ll appear helpless but will do unheard atrocities. Through us, they will learn astronomy And through them, we will learn of sodomy. We, the Nazca, have observed many of nature’s anomalies Fathoming them all by using this universe’s cosmology, The macrocosmic property that made Earth a conscious being! Despite this, we’re fated to be reborn in the serpent’s odyssey A curse that will put our civilization at its mercy constantly It is said: when a gargantuan red meteor makes the sky bleed Fate will be cast, and our lionhearted race will die diseased; We’ll be defeated by divine decree. It is as the ancients said, they’ve come! And they offer blankets as alms Perhaps, we can be brothers in arms Maybe we misjudged them For they haven’t uttered any harm. Days later, Unbearable sickness has swept my people Their skin boils & suppurates this deadly evil. I’m afraid these outsiders meant for this to happen, It feels like all our major organs are reactive The children impacted from it, crawl to them for help They scoff and say: “We’re HERE to send you to hell!” Our only hope is to survive the pathogen But, the prophecy already has decided adamantly That our life isn’t adequate… We can’t fight when we can’t define the antigens. Hopelessness, It’s like being deprived of your psyche’s oxygen And then mentally forced into a violent catalyst But, we’re no match, they have giant battleships Equipped with behemoth cannons that breach our palace. My whole family has disappeared underneath the madness, The pile of ashes that are steeped in sadness A scene you can only imagine if disaster your daily companion. These barbaric demigods didn’t even give our babies compassion Without flinching, their captain gave the order to flay them with contraptions Their religious saviors sanctioned to be used on their slaves and their captives. Fear mongrels that tongue every name of anguish, found in any language I can see it now, their eyes burn with the flame of passionate desire To access and acquire our sacred practices, so they’ll ascend even higher. After the bloodbath, some of us were spared The only event summary is despair. But, the elder said: “Even in its most dismal darkest nights The larva will climb out its old carcass and become a butterfly;” Metamorphosis, where our heart’s light will start to shine Creating a bridge that will reach those in the afterlife Bringing them back, so they can etch the Nazca lines. Last edited by Adonis; 01-02-2016 at 06:20 PM. |
01-05-2016, 04:25 AM | #2 |
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congrats to buddha on the title(defense) and all the hard work.
Congratulations my friend. hats off to all other competitors also; well done. buddha, regarding your verses, I think I'll have to quote you- yourself: My, that's some Tasty Soup. I can't believe I Tasted that Goop. Must have been the vampire repellent that Made it Good.. lmao You never should have wrote this frankly^. You helped created a monster. Also, here's another epic unbornbuddha rhyme from the past which kinda puts this thread to shame: I could read all your thoughts like ESP. I don't want a fourth one I still like my PS3. But when I'm on the go, I use my PSP. But in all seriousness, good stuff in this tourney. Maybe just because it's visible on my screen at the moment.. but the last couple stanzas of that week1 are, for lack of a better term, ill. @Adonis - good job on the info/compilation. sorry if i should have put ths comment on the chat area but i thought a couple "jocular contrasts" would be a hoot. Last edited by Pharaohs Army; 01-05-2016 at 08:14 PM. |
01-21-2016, 04:03 PM | #3 |
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