02-03-2018, 09:05 AM | #1 |
Shrewd as evearthed
Join Date: Aug 2014
Location: Wolverhampton, England
Posts: 8,251
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 |
Pulse / Pinot Grij
@infiktration
__________________
- Netcees Rebuttal Tourney - Art of Writing League (x 4) - AOWL Season 11 Champion (Undefeated Season) |
02-03-2018, 02:34 PM | #2 |
Scream
Join Date: Jun 2015
Posts: 3,183
Battle Record: 63-35
Accomplishments - 50 Wins
Champed - BA Picture Roast
- Battle Royale Tournament
- NBL Pic Roast
- Netcees Battle League
- NBL Season 11
- HoT Roast
- BAL Roast
- Tag Team Tourney
- NBL Barcotic Cypher
- SOL Pic Roast
- BA Tag
- XXXtentacion Roast
- 1-2 LR Champ
Rep Power: 22535864 |
"Stacy's Mom" (and her Profound Feelings of Loss)
Spurned smoke, crisp September crackles in burnt oak sifting embers, once named Faith, but she preferred Hope sitting, trembling, just remembering on her back porch the source of heat exhausted, also, she lacked warmth she sat scorched, no past regret was the least forgotten misbegotten breeze, gusts of grief from a teasing Autumn she'd seemed despondent until that calm drift made her shift it came swift, her gaze quit, 'hey, thanks for the lift' yet remained split, she lacked the integrity necessary was content to marry for money to relieve the debt she carried yet she barely kept her cherry long enough to get her bearings and still removing clothes didn't change how much she's wearing hardly caring... she barely worried about Heaven or Hell and considered her fingernails as an extension of self let the emptiness dwell, she came to loathe her lack of growth went back and forth with depression, to forge an acrid oath her pain burned within, so she swore to never hurt again and decided to swallow pride, with a mouthful of percodan it's still hazy... thinking now, she must've been crazy and she never would've done it, if she had have had Stacy her unborn baby, whose first breath didn't escape the womb a sweet flower that had withered, before it got to bloom he sealed her doom, at once he'd been nothing but loving but was a begrudging curmudgeon once she had a bun in the oven so she snubbed it, a decision she's yet become one with cuz she still cries herself to sleep, clutching her stomach she's still running, trying to escape her former anguish but what's strange is 'change' always seemed a foreign language she was ashamed of all the pain she suffered needlessly and sleeplessly envisioned a life that had ceased to be in recent dreams, she saw her baby born in perfect health but Stacy couldn't have first steps, until she took some herself so she enlisted help, a support group to build her fortitude it was a torpid troupe of women that had had abortions too emotions strewn, just trying to find Hope in their cause they'd open their hearts and talk about coping with loss they'd broke from their talks, and they'd break for fifteen and she'd go to the Maternity Ward to watch the babies sleep it gave her peace, she knew she'd have to find it someway figured she'd keep the Faith, might be worth something someday then she'd head home, and quickly take the kindling out light a match, and watch as flames and ashes dwindle about no wrinkle of doubt as to why life had singled her out and how hard it was to live with what she was living without "Greener Pastures" I'm the reefer man... an over-eccentric Weezer fan believe it, man... I rock more green than Peter Pan I'll scheme a plan, to get weed fronted in an instant come lookin for dough? that's me, runnin in the distance the dirty ditchpig, fiending off your little poochie joint plus I got shit that'll rock ya til you're John Belushi'ed, boy while your hoochie giggles cuz I'm talkin in a goofy voice its amazing what can make a blitted bitch's coochie moist now she's woozy... so I'm cruisin on to my next spot need a spliff? hell, I roll quicker than Sonic the Hedgehog with the best crops, trust kid, the count couldn't be cleaner while your weed is even seedier than your demeanour you'll see, I run a mean game, the cops could never get on it the rap sheet's clean... hell, I got less dirt than hydroponics its Homegrown product, and you could never have it, ho c'mon, I don't need u... I said I needed half an O "Melancholy Meadow" Let me expunge these jaded notions, lured by a teasing finger obscured by misleading judgment, and left alone to linger hook, line & sinker... you had me from the moment I met you but took a while before being something I wanted to pursue it was the summer, I was lonely and needed to look ahead needed some prospect for romance, and you popped into my head a different someone, an enigma, with grace and charisma or maybe I just needed someone to help me get over Melinda either way, it was easy to build you up to a prominent role but the fact that you're committed took an onerous toll toppled this soul, until one drunken night of self-release when we flirted back and forth, and let my feelings off the leash sure, I regretted it, second guessed my motives of behaviour but figured you were aware... since you were an active player in games of the heart, so I went along with the rest of my week and held in all the feelings that I was so desperate to speak but it was destined to fail, who am I to make a girl question her male cuz even I know how hard it is when a relationship fails these impatient travails plagued me, playing with 'maybe' and got enveloped in the fact that your heart could've saved me but deep down, I guess I knew that you never really understood me which made the denouement more exciting than the climax ever could be or would be, but you led me on, c'mon, don't lie to yourself cuz a big part of you wanted me, admit it, don't hide from yourself cuz you never would've held my hand, or would've got in my bed you never even would've let me get the thought in my head but you're a tease, you divulged that, hell, a girl likes attention but the tension was heart-wrenching when I discovered your intentions and I guess that, I left that... thinking of you with less appeal cuz it was such a cathardic experience... I had nothing left to feel but I'll deal, ya know, that's just how matters of the heart work and I'm just a lovesick fool who didn't get to capture your heart first "The Death of Hope" ..sometimes I forget to breathe... Hope. I've lost it. a broken faucet dripping tears like the Okanogan flows in August just a tightly woven mode to show misappropriated codes of logic this corroded project grants no token solace for morose involvement I'd rather forgo it all.... this is spoken honest, I have no motive to conceal the truth I'll be real with you, hell, I live life like a broken promise never follow through, I wander aimless, with despondent views as the guilt of my indifference rendez-vous's with my squandered youth and ponders truth... like existence has this elusive value I'm a slave to my conscience, and that's the only God I bow to. and I vow to, never approach penance for penitence with palms up cuz I've suffered so much already that my tears could've drawn blood this calm flood, of emotions that I'm emersed in only worsens and I'm certain, behind this lead curtain, lays a better person but being candid... a misplaced concept of self left me branded I clutch at hope, but my heavy-handed swipes have never landed I've been stranded... too many times by turn-coat companions who take advantage... take this man... c'mon, take him for granted I've raved and ranted, and sometimes its hard to stop the rage stuck in this noxious stage, that's why I rely on Josh and Paige they help lock the cage, and abate those fears that seem to surface they emerge to stop the hurt, when my purpose seems worthless this perverse circus, somehow lets me know hope is not dead it is without end... its corny, but I found it, in friends. the road bends, and our destination seems to be within view and darkness imbues, hope doesn't bleed, it breathes, within you. and I contemplate this sick joke with a cigarette and Vanilla Coke there was always hope, my canvas was just in need of broader strokes "The real HHDB diss" I could kill all these kids, so don't even start me I'll make y'all look more homosequal than Mister Darcy an art fiend... a backpacker, call this kid what you will cuz I'll bring mediocre-ness like Crazy Bitch brought the skill you thought you're ill... until it was paralleled with nik-A hey nik-A... you're gay, you're gay, you're gay, you're gay ps. I hate you, like -able I'll give a bad name to Canadians about as bad as nika wants to bring back the eighties, bitch there's no KRS... you're obvious like clowning Stam's neck this is a damn threat, like Senseless against a ham sandwich no contest, I'll murder fags, with text that hurts the hands a worthless plan, ps. Darcy... Colin Firth's the man I'll work ya, man... like PLO, anything that supports the Blacks I'll distort your point of view, like KILLAMANJARO distorts the facts jsut to make a point, just like Stamina fakes his tracks I won't stay on point, like Catastrophe's reputation stays intact fuckin no-shower, I'm the double H dee bee horn-blower you're as about popular as TyTania's topical subjects go over my whoel motive, is to expose you queers from a different angle and you deserve what you get, like ill nik-A versus Tranquil get strangled... while I'm I'll swilling Colt forty-five, chillin ya'll can get serenaded by Stadnent, the cracke dout Robbie Williams I'll kill em, if you got your name left out... don't worry... cuz you'll get booted like Grabber from the Tourney, in a hurry |
02-15-2018, 01:33 AM | #3 |
Scream
Join Date: Jun 2015
Posts: 3,183
Battle Record: 63-35
Accomplishments - 50 Wins
Champed - BA Picture Roast
- Battle Royale Tournament
- NBL Pic Roast
- Netcees Battle League
- NBL Season 11
- HoT Roast
- BAL Roast
- Tag Team Tourney
- NBL Barcotic Cypher
- SOL Pic Roast
- BA Tag
- XXXtentacion Roast
- 1-2 LR Champ
Rep Power: 22535864 |
"Raphaela Stars"
Raphaela stars singing songs, leaping into blankets A blind man marvel, snatched handbags ripped from strangers Drunken honesty, untouched promises next to godliness Bottled rock-bottoms, gobbled up to fill the hospices And we raise a toast to… the kind of feelings that choke you The buoyant exploiters set sail dreams by the boatful Never hopeful, giving the Machiavellian hand a squeeze Scream abandon me, false tongues fulfilling sycophantasies Here’s a nickel, dance for me, manifest a monocle vision With bombs over freshly-combed headed hospital children Strike and ignite, torch the empires and hold a pagan’s heart Maintain love’s mercy personally but keep your dagger sharp Twist the bulb, this Moriarty mystery grips the skull Capsized eclipse movements flip to resist the invincible So shine on wretched glory, under what wonderment is Stuffing money in pigs, ending up bloody and rich Kill the crops, watch rotten bastards plot the massacres Static nerves request flesh from Shylock ambassadors Doomed damsels panhandle once the vandals appear And Xanadu’s ingénues extinguish candles with tears Damned reluctance cutting curtains on grand productions Be a man with firm hands that stands for something Rippled brine in pickled pride, emerge, live or die Serpentine words converge… the sickle shines Warring worlds clash, ideology’s blood spurts Love’s worth lies between cold eyes and a chunk of earth Rum-rowdy ruffians converse loudly in rented rooms The rotted vessels of empty blooms hold their sceptres to truth Wealth stashed in thresholds, flags merge in a sad dirge Cracked cans of worms, a frantic search for man’s worth Pillage the town, soar swiftly when human will is aroused Tonight we sleep with Raphaela stars and make pillows of clouds "Fuck the Yankees" FUCK THE YANKEES! Every single fan’s a damn faggot.. tell me, dudes.. how much did you pay to ride the bandwagon?? and with the money y’all got, you think you’d be heavyweights pay two hundred million a season.. to play like the Devil Rays and y’all buy all your players.. that fuckin’ shit’s wack.. some teams have lower payrolls, than y’all pay in luxury tax no beards or long hair? wow, that discipline’s exceptional.. ..ly gay, since it’s club policy to look like a metrosexual and I gotta mention Derek Jeter.. fo rel, the man’s a star dude really knows how to clutch singles.. down at the faggot bar and Giambi’s on steroids.. and I ain’t even clownin’ the cat but he’s got fuckin’ veins on his neck bigger around than his bat a red face and a wide neck.. the man looks like the Juggernaut, see.. and that shit’s funnier than the stats put up by Bubba Crosby got Cabrera to fill-in.. a weak bat and not too hot of a fielder since Matsui broke his wrist.. to make it look like A-Rod’s or Jeter’s speaking of Rodriguez, dude’s a monsters with bats.. cuz A-Rod’s his nickname.. and also what he wants in his ass but he’s a pro.. if you’re talkin’ about his past, he’s savage now he makes $100 000 for every point on his batting average fuckin’ 25 mil’ a season.. that contract’s costly as shit.. cuz the dude’s 1/8 of your payroll.. and that’s how often he hits and your starters are sick.. but y’all pray they stay strong late.. cuz that bullpen is more sickly lookin’ than Joe Torre’s prostate but Mariano’s pretty dope.. I can say that he’s awesome, dude.. rarely blows a save.. but he’s blown every man in the locker room and I don’t like the Roots, but the fact they’re philosopher’s clear.. cuz Things Fall Apart.. just look at Randy Johnson’s career.. and if I had to compliment them.. I’d probly panic in a stitch.. so you’re not the gayest franchise in NY.. cuz Steve Francis is a Knick |
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