WRITE WEEK #3

[PancakeBrah]

Deadline: 11:59 P.M. Pacific, Thursday
16 line max, one entry per person.
Winner receives an accomplishment.
Based on original content, flow, rhyme complexity, and relation to the subject.

[Vulgar]

I've been to the desert. There's no water,
and no barbers, and less moisture. My soul's tarnished,
I left Des Moines in my old Charger, now stuck in a real life maze
My sanity's trapped in a seal-tight case -
been stumbling through death valley's armpit for what feels like days
About to freefall off this reddish cliff. Fuck the ledge.
The grass is greener on the other side...this one's much too dead
My tongue has bled & the canteen's out. Tastes like dirt regardless
Mother Nature's a brutal whore and the Earth's a harlot
I've got sand in my eyes. Thankfully not pubic lice
But my dick already fell off from heat exposure so I'm screwed at life.
I moved too right and now I'm defunct of luck
This broken compass ain't helping. I feel my stomach lurch, I'm erupting guts
The rock's face is giving me bad looks, I'm bout to knuckle up
and punch this clump of rotten ***tus...til I find a sign that instantly makes me better
It reads: "COME INSIDE CHYEAH'S ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE MAKESHIFT FORT, AND BE SAFE FOREVER."

[Eŋg]

Sepia-toned
sky-line assigned my scansion for many a poem;
the precipice posed attempts to know why you never left me alone.
Remember the yoke?
Never meant for it to be a synecdoche, no
don’t accept the soul’s ascent and rejecting breaths of empathy, whole
-- heartedly. Pardon me.
My missteps made indents on the yellowing road,
mellow & cold; northern breeze: Boreas eased any scent of the Scarecrow.
Ever sensed all my fear, foe?
If only Aquilon heard, OH! to break the clasps ergo save the chaste Virgo.
Displeasure/grim pressure of an aquiline - curved - nose
-- I remember a yoke
from which I actually learned, though. Graphite, in turn, grows
to scratch, scribe or burn Hope into a landscape that shaped many a poem
of sepia tones.

[Bodey]

it was a frame designed for the black-feathered fiends just soaring up
above me, like i'd been tethered to that jogging scene from forrest gump
RUNNINGGG, i finally stopped, glazed eyes blinking at horizons
dry as these rocks, i prayed to be drinking at a Hyatt
and that i was just dreaming in a dribble of spit, alone
like any other evening, and not on these windy roads
that dont seem to go anywhere except another corner
of which i've enjoyed many shares of regret, this fuckin torture
reeking these purple-brown-bruised memories in storage til it bleeds
it's been keeping me from lookin forward to the oranges and greens
gotta smoke through the cloudy parts if you wanna snort the bluer skies
so i did it with a mauiwowi heart and avoided sandstorm suicide

[zygote]

CHILDREN’S RHYME: WHY HUMANS BUILDS ROADS.
From Point A to Point B. To Point C to Point Z.
To Point X to Point A and to every point in-between.
I am a human and I love building roads,
I build it with dirt or with mud or with small cobble stones,
Putting it down on the ground all arranged in a row,
And I love building pots and I love building walls, but most of all I love building roads.
Old Romans built roads and so did the Chinese,
Building a road allows you to walk as you please.
A road lets you know which way you should go,
Why? Don’t you know? A road’s like a river, just follow the flow.
Roads can go through the snow, and through mountains too,
And crossing a desert is easy, if you know what to do.
Just follow the road.
We have conquered the Earth and filled it with roads,
So just follow the road, because the road is your home.

[e11even]

Don't cross me. Though I have the mellowest soul...
Crevices glow- bright core through this melanin shown.
Sons shine for me, tell this to the weapons they've drawn.
They wanna dig through and pick treasures I cherish alone.
Let it be known, I chose not to be found. I set it in stone,
But every season round I have ta prove it, burying bones.
The code is to leave me atoned and heated...
though opposed, they mean I hone the glow and heat it.
So my homies that need a home, I unfold the seatings,
And if you don't belong, a bad weekend's unloaded, repeated.
Til the vultures come see it, gawking and laughing, then eat it.
You can pass for a genius, nap- and your cast is depleted.
I have mastered the meanest attack on your grasp on reality. It's
not whether you make it, but can you make it home in less than more than one pieces?
Morbidly facetious, indeed it's. Forward that notion to Jesus...
Because, when approaching mid-hangover, your wolf pack's gonna need it.

[Objective]

The road to success is nothing less
than a wasteland, only fools dress to impress
and expect to get fed from the same hand that perfected the gameplan.
A leader doesn't reflect nothing else than the concept of a sane man.
So when you're walking the road forget what you've been told,
there's skulls, corpses and bones before you get diamonds and gold.
The truth will unfold once you get past the mountains and the secrets it holds,
beyond the scene of vultures guarding the market where souls getting sold;
you'll find yourself picking up your sanity in a bucket of coal,
but that's what happens when you lose track of your goal.
You got a direction to go, so why you're going so slow?
what happened with your strategies and all of that flow?
Was it all just for show? Seems to me you're just scoping the landscape,
are you contemplating to die in this realm? Now that's being in bad shape...
You're in charge of your own fate, no reason to add weights,
but it takes character to survive the path of these mad lanes.

[Geno]

Road runner wisdom, tumble weeds -dust, the sun still glistens
Pull over -throw up, heat stroke or coma, overcome by tunnel vision
The cobra clutches lunch -its wicked, as I watch his stomache thicken
Screaming out into the world, I'm lost goddamnit!!! -Nothing listens
This is not what I intended here, seeking help through deafened ears
The road to redemption's never clear, let go and let god -yet I veer
Red eyes -tears, so many paths in the world, what led me to this one
To many sik stunts, friendships die, dout they can ever forgive -trust
Just a regular trip ends up a fight for your soul, its a sight to behold
Searching for advice from something you've been spiteful to know
There's no light in the road at the end of the tunnel, exit the shuttle
Step into puddles, I'm fucked, if only comprehension were subtle
Forever my love for this world'll never depart, tread through the dark
It spreads through the heart, a tarp, seasonal -like decorative art
Would've never embarked if id known you would change how you feel
My directions wer wrong, lost, somebody needs to take out the wheels

[Mr. J]

Spread the news to the victims, toxins through the veins
offers to the slain, we have different views if you'd listen
different uses of scriptures, I'm as rotten as the claim
tossed into the fray, the Grey, the wolves are stalking their prey
death is upon you, what you gon' do? isn't it awful?
isn't it, genocide, homicide, suicidal to attack when your afraid
pray to the gods you...make it out the game...stay out the way
a millimeter shell to the brain, could help take the stress in you
let me know when the lesson's through, dearly respected you...
rest in this spectacle, walk the same road that's left to you
I hope the jeans fit and the bleeding is from contraceptive use
no way out, the idea came from mood swings boosting morale
OK...shooting the corral, the earth is shaking, moving is too loud...
open the door and it's creaking, walking the children up who are sleeping
hearts beating, fear racing...all you see is gone, isn't it beautiful..scenic
when you see it you couldn't believe it, emptiness is a dream..if you seen it

[Strikta]

I'm seeing destitution, no revolution, my resolution lies in lower pressure
These hands of mine, in sands of time, have dried to stone & festered
It's continental, consequential, deposits of rocks.. not so monumental
Just building blocks & a plot leading up to when I stop the solemn venture
I admit, when I'm hot I'm hot.. but when I'm not, I'm cold as can be
Our sun drops, alone in my dreams.. the bipolar omen froze in the breeze
The next day's scolding me, & w/ no shade of life I'm hoping for trees
Or other roads out. Peyote growing so openly, coping, just floating to glee
See.. endlessly it's pain, trust me, your soul will never be the same
Serving as burial grounds w/ scarier clouds, wormholes & skeletal remains
Burn slow, it's hell off in these plains & miles of torturing memories
Corpses of enemies, venomous scorpions, remembering poison is entering
Sets in the organs & courses, even rendering portions of hemorrhaging
It's best to avoid it, this path ain't just for testing out Porsches & menacing
.
.
This land's making our demons proud, they're angrily screaming loud
Keep my story in mind.. & say your prayers, when taking the scenic route

[breathless]

I know I've traveled down this path before, broke, needing a sign
So the hassle is a god damn chore, coke, bleeding in lines
Boy, what I'd give for some relief, choked, freezing but fine
In the heat of my mind speeding, so close to life
Beliefs of things to believe in still eating through this hindsight
Blindly creeping over loose leaves, filtered by these muse schemes
If the ruse seems likely to move me, then why fight?
I'd be better off perusing the off kilter ground than choose streets
Already walked along, talk is strong, but actions are cheaper
Especially when I never really intended this plan to start either
A damaged heart, green where the pastures part the ether
Given hard trials and charred smiles passed your smartest teacher
A darkness breather, blowing the shadows out the water
Down trodden and mad at the bad flow of my father
The plot turns, thicker than this blood could ever congeal to
If I stopped first, I'd be sicker than some who must never conceal truth

[Certain]

This shit is hideous. It's about time the highway's leveled.
Road has more patches than the Yankees' jerseys after 9/11.
Those lines must have been drawn by kids with autism.
Looking like the highway crew was mid-withdrawal symptoms.
And we're wondering why throughway's empty?
Rocking more craters than the faces of all of the white dudes on Netcees.
There's only one solution: violence. My stompings are fatal.
So when I say I'm hitting macadam, I'm not talking 'bout Rachel.
You're worse than any street I've ever driven, though
Looking like the set from Cars — by that, I mean fictional.
It's not just the picture. I'm seeing how you're awful,
and I'm buying a Chevy Blazer — as a vehicle to off road.
I've driven on the GWB in rush hour and find you inferior.
The last time anyone liked The Streets was Original Pirate Material.

[Split]

My grandfather said- this all slept under ocean, once...
from the froth of sediment's Atlantean sway, to components of dust.
But I know you were taught by immersion, advanced in waves as they crest,
progression for growth, unafraid of the depth, or arid ocean above-
decayed to barren onus of love- toil attuned to cyclical breaths.
Those who don't slowly keep moving to stay- water toys with, consumes,
nodding in place, washing- erosion, sun foil moon- diametric exchange.
...now this place is a desert.
His skin was of dust, rubbed raw to the clay. His gaze tethered to dust,
when the winds brought him away, but yet no touch of color remained
when you looked in his muddily unfocused way. Tables- islands or mesas,
he shored at each like archipelago chains. He said get inside of the Blazer,
and we forged valiantly forth towards the desert oblivion's start...
beneath this colossus of roads twists a behemoth, tar leathered veins sitting in scars,
but I don't believe this carcass at the bottom seeks the sea's silence above-
just lost from the rain...would you believe I breathed in the sea when I was young?

[NYCSPITZ]

lmfao@ vulgar's

[Zen]

Desperate eyes grasp the crescent of time. Heaven sighs over the blessed skies kept inside desolate signs. Forever is mine, frozen together inside the pressures of my mind. My precious pride has weathered in strides taking the high road. Least that's the way I go; never to die. Sever the ties. Make a blind fold; It's better for the eyes. Destiny's primed. Awake. Let your mind go.

[Geno]

Thread closed: reasson -deadline @PancakeBrah
Not sure how you want to go about voting for this

[PancakeBrah]

WRITE WEEK #3 IS OPEN FOR VOTES

@Vulgar @oXus @Badi Alii @ZYG @Vividlyvague @Objective @Genocide @Mr. J @strika @Certain @Split Eight

If you have the time, drop a vote consisting of your Top 5 verses this week, in order, excluding yourself. You don't NEED to give an explanation, but they're always welcome. I'll drop a vote myself at some point. @breathless has already pm'd me his vote. After enough votes have been cast I will tally up the points and post the winner in Discussion and award that accomplishment.

Anyone who didn't participate but wants to vote is more than welcome to.

Great participation and verses this week guys (and girl), well done.

[Split]

1. Strikta
2. Bodey
3. oXus
4. Geno
5. Mr. J

[Vulgar]

1. Strikta
2. Objective
3. Bodey
4. Split
5. Geno

[Certain]

I may come back with more detailed analysis, but for now:

1. Vulgar
2. Strikta
These two wrote what felt like complete pieces. Vulgar's was slightly better written, though Strikta's might have been even more complete. It was a close call, but the last line of Vulgar's verse made me laugh.

3. Mr. J
4. ZYG
5. Genocide