Train Station: Gazette Ft. Storyteller

[Spoken]

@Gazette

The Train Station.

midnight iron, snaking out like specters fingers, then melting in the mist
i would like to think their odyssey is over, and that they welcome the abyss
as tender as a kiss, these shingles and their watermarks - they speak to me
almost secretly ... a hundred years gone, a hundred years of grief to be
and what unsung tales have these puffs of brisk-departing smoke imbibed?
what many stories could be told and why - do open eyes behold them - blind?
those ochre tiles, tanned to character-perfection, by nervous cigarettes
scratches, dirt and hints of sweat; the signatures of phantoms, in swirls and pirouettes.

Originally Posted by Storyteller

Smoke grazes the pores that weep for attention,
As negligence was the perspective dropped as a message.
The steam rolls arrogance in abundance on tiers,
Amongst no names, friends who are far and near ones u call peers.
The sheer resonance of the day engulfs us an image,
While I'm painting prescription- digesting the pillage.
Dropping the children; advancing the rest to they're mark,
The place they call work or home or a new rave to embark.
Engaging the heart with warmth commission who starve,
Days I'd find at least one who travels to say they've come far.
Metal shards sparking a view that stops for admittance,
The carriage of adolescent to the first born of infants.
Exit signs amassed by shadows in reflections transmitted,
The enlightenment; purging sin of the past wrongfully committed.
Delve the line to ring service for the next stop strums the chord,
Off we go with new faces- every 30 minutes screaming all aboard

.
.
.
a beggars nose gulps coffee steam - snobbily, from her sumptuous throne of trash
no gumption's prone to last, but no one thought to tell Her Majesty; she couldn't stoke the ash
i guess it's a macabre song, this with such a gulfing jaw, that challenges one
to turn one's back on the Sun ... then chase the wheels of a pram as it tractors along
or amass with the throng - no better coat than the Rorschach smudge of busy strangers
no distance greater; backwards, forward, backwards, forward; forward with the width of vapor
i watch the tired carriages, shrugging along their shouldered clouds of people
eighty tons of frozen faces, homeless-nameless ... and I can't see one ounce of evil
i think, maybe, they're just like me ... you know? - trying to unravel truth
about life, about death - but ... what the Hell do I know ...? I'm merely passing through

[Spoken]

Bump

[Darth Yoda]

pirouettes was lovely.

i will feed later although my feed isn't real feed. but i'll feed feed.

[Certain]

Overall, this piece had a lot of great images building toward a very strong end. It wasn't a particularly purposeful piece, but not all things need to be.

But I've never been a big fan of collaborations like this, where the writers have such distinct and different styles but attempt to fold their verses together as part of a single conceit. The shift was jarring both times.

Gazette's parts were stronger. His imagery was grounded more directly in concrete detail, while Storyteller went for the metaphorical approach. That was part of the problem: Storyteller came off vague next to Gazette, as though the middle part of the verse was of another description entirely.

Meanwhile, Gazette's flow didn't quite hold up because of the length of his lines, which became more obvious with Storyteller's part flowing a bit smoother. Both of you struggled with rhyme scheme. Gazette's issue was the length and the predictability of his internal rhymes. There was very little variation, very little command. The rhyme pattern felt formulaic early on and carried that way through both of his parts.

Storyteller's struggles with rhyme came because he forced them too often. This particular couplet was very weak:

Engaging the heart with warmth commission who starve,
Days I'd find at least one who travels to say they've come far.

I'm not even sure what that's supposed to mean.

With that said, I enjoyed the read. The ending was an interesting take, and the images at times were very vivid.

[Spoken]

Gazette was the assenger experience and I was the conductor of the train giving two different perspectives on the fact if a train station so my part being entirely opposite is on purpose really... Commission to starve is expense to go pretty much no where and wanting the urge to go and sometimes there is always that one person who just keeps traveling an when asked once they come to a decisive stop and asked where they've come it's always a far distance or some sort.. At least thru my experience

[Certain]

Then your wording needs work. "Commission" only means a group of people in the context of a task force.

Then again, I read the entire piece as coming from the train's perspective.

[Spoken]

Nah I appreciate your advice my dude its always appreciated family

[Spoken]

Bump please