Netcees  

Go Back   Netcees > Vault > Archives > Hall of Names

User Tag List

Reply
 
Thread Tools Display Modes
Old 06-08-2018, 04:05 AM   #1
sral
Shrewd as evearthed
 
sral's Avatar
 
Join Date: Aug 2014
Location: Wolverhampton, England
Posts: 8,230
Battle Record: 28-3


Champed
- Gimmick Battle League
- The Winter Topical
- Topical Martyrs
- Lime Green Poetry Association
- Lyric Olympics
- Art of Writing League
- Guerrilla Writing League (2x)
- Black August II

Rep Power: 85899391
sral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond repute
Default MuhThugga

posted at: RapBattles, RapLeagues, UrbanProwlers


"The Tempest" (2010)

She said,
“Hey, pretty baby
You lookin’ so crazy.
There some place you’d rather be?”

He said,
“Adrift in your ocean
In my little rowboat as
Your waves rock me to sleep.”

Her arms were the tide,
Providing a steady calm
To the nervousness in his chest
That she used as a pillow to rest her head upon
They stared ahead. His eyes began to swell
With the crimson waves, which rose with
The poem that her kiss displayed.
The seas grew violent
She could see the tempest form
On the horizon of his cloudy iris
He tried to find protection in
The ripples that waved along the face
Of the moon’s reflection
But it was her diamond eyes that cut
Through the darkness of night
Like satin harbor lights wrapped in
A fragrant haze that kept this boy sane,
His voyage maiden, and his haven safe.
So, he staked a claim on the edge of existence
Rowing between his hopes and dreams and
His hellish visions. And with a hug and a kiss,
He dodged the cyclone. He knew no other
Port would ever feel like home.

So, he just held her close
She was his shelter – no –
The cornerstone of his fortress he built
To endure his personal storm off the
Shores of New Orleans:
This poet’s true inspiration.
And though he wrote aggressively,
He suffered from depression, see
With thoughts suppressed, he
Found it hard to accept that she
Could see the message he
Stowed in the hollows of his boat
And that discrepancy is why his
Bottle failed to float.
So, he just held her close
As she would let him know
That he didn’t have to travel
These seas alone, but when his
Depression set in, he left her with
Sentences that felt so cold, expressions
Of stone. They grew disconnected
From everything they’ve known.
And at the height of his storm, her
Eyes became worn, and the harbor lights
He hoped would guide him through the night
Faded in the haziness of his crazy mind.

He said,
“It just may be that
I’m genuinely crazy, but
Please don’t erase my
Footprints from your shoreline.”

She said,
“I’m sorry, dear baby
Though my heart is aching,
I’m closing my harbor
And waving you goodbye.”

Then, he wrote,
“There’s no Hollywood ending grounded in reality
So, I’m saying ‘goodbye’ to a place I’ve never been
Dashed hopes and smashed dreams are a thing of the past
I’m leaving it all behind ‘fore I even arrive

There’s no Hollywood ending grounded in reality
So, I’m saying ‘goodbye’ to a place I’ve never been
Dashed hopes and smashed dreams are a thing of the past
I’m leaving you behind with my final goodbye.”

And so he ventured back out
Into those violent seas, disappearing
Quietly into the onyx of the night
Wondering how he’ll hide from
The silent whims of the leviathans when
He no longer sees the sonnet in her eyes.
And the days turned to nights as
He churned in his pain etching memories
Of yesterday on a canvas of uncertainty
He searched for the stars that promised
Him a canopy to shroud him from the
Clouds that were dowsed with insanity
No such luck; no harbor in sight
So he kindled the flame he
Plucked from the sparkle in her eyes
In hopes that the light would
Guide him through the storm,
But the seas grew rough and the
Winds grew fierce in the very moment
A whisper cradled a message
Of another boat docking at her shore.

He closed his eyes, surrounded by
Thoughts of everything he lost:
He remembered the tide –
He remembered that steady calm he found
In the gentle touch of her tender palm
He remembered her eyes –
Those satin harbor lights that once
Protected him from the darkness of night
Consumed by the storm, engulfed
In his tragedy; he threw himself overboard
And into the kraken’s reach.
When he washed ashore, there
Was no harbor in sight, ‘cause her head
Was on his chest with that sparkle in her eyes.

And she just held him close,
And she just let him know
That he didn’t have to travel
These seas alone. So, the nights
turned to days as they churned
In her waves and she smiled
When his tempest finally dissipated.
__________________
- Netcees Rebuttal Tourney
- Art of Writing League (x 4)
- AOWL Season 11 Champion (Undefeated Season)
sral is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 06-08-2018, 04:10 AM   #2
sral
Shrewd as evearthed
 
sral's Avatar
 
Join Date: Aug 2014
Location: Wolverhampton, England
Posts: 8,230
Battle Record: 28-3


Champed
- Gimmick Battle League
- The Winter Topical
- Topical Martyrs
- Lime Green Poetry Association
- Lyric Olympics
- Art of Writing League
- Guerrilla Writing League (2x)
- Black August II

Rep Power: 85899391
sral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond reputesral has a reputation beyond repute
Default

"To Davis Weaver" (2010)

This is a follow-up to Rosebuds of June, my reaction to the slaying of two of my highschool friends and their mother at the hands of their father before he took his own life on June 4, 2005. Five years later, I tried to step back and try to find some form of an answer as to why he did it. I only found that the emotion is still there....

I’ll never forget the day
The clouds shrouded the sky
I’ll never forget the call
That delivered the news which
Mixed the rain with the music,
Composing a tragic tune that
Exposed the roses which
Had bloomed in raw emotion.

It’s been five years since Rosebuds,
Five years since your massacre
Where you sat in the back of church
Listening to the pastor’s words,
Rather than taking the Gospel,
You took your family home
And slaughtered them all afterwards.
Like, was this the plan at birth?
Did you hold you’re infant son
And say, “Mark my words:
Eighteen years from now
I’m going to kill you in your sleep?”
Did you show them the piece
Designated for the deed?
Did you recite your wedding vows
Before you gave it a squeeze?

The snake lurks in the mud,
The lion hunts in the grass
But be weary, kids,
For your father creeps at home.
The snake lurks in the mud,
The lion hunts in the grass
But be weary, kids,
For your father creeps at home.

And maybe you just
Didn't want to go alone
And leave your kids to
Fend without a father.
Perhaps you wanted death
Over a broken home,
Or maybe you felt this world
Had nothing left to offer.

And how I wish that Rosebuds
Didn’t have to be written,
And I wish that this pain
Didn’t have to exist, and
I wish that you didn’t
Keep your thoughts suppressed
And vented for a minute.
Just so you know,
I would have listened.
Instead you buried their
Love with a .38 snub;
Dissolved all their dreams
With a revolving guillotine.
Like, welcome to Nero’s house
For the mentally unstable
Where the nightstand
Contains your family’s betrayal.

The snake lurks in the mud,
The lion hunts in the grass
But be weary, kids,
For your father creeps at home.
The snake lurks in the mud,
The lion hunts in the grass
But be weary, kids,
For your father creeps at home.

And I‘d trade all my blessings
If it meant they would get
To hold their own future
In the palm of their hands
If it meant they would not
Get kissed by your revolver
The writing, the poetry…
I’d give it all up.

Momma never told me
There’d be days like this
Days like this… Days like this

Momma never told me
There’d be days like this
Days like this… Days like this

Momma never told me
There’d be days like this
Days like this… Days like this

Mom, you never told me.
__________________
- Netcees Rebuttal Tourney
- Art of Writing League (x 4)
- AOWL Season 11 Champion (Undefeated Season)
sral is offline   Reply With Quote
Reply

Thread Tools
Display Modes

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off

Forum Jump


All times are GMT -4. The time now is 11:58 AM.


Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.5
Copyright ©2000 - 2024, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
User Alert System provided by Advanced User Tagging (Lite) - vBulletin Mods & Addons Copyright © 2024 DragonByte Technologies Ltd.
Google+