monika,

[Split]

you said photographs were the purest art-
to capture untethered human emotive conviction,
and showed me restaurant scenes- 'open incisions'-
The photographer, ensconced in oceans of pixels,
is the purity seeked. Motion is fixed for his or her Copernican leap.
But the viewer's de jure devotion is decomposure of scene-
what don't you see on display in this quieting view?
Seventh-year figure, whitening jeans at the fray, Hermione shoes.
swirling the dregs of her tea without divining the truth.
Visine induced. Nikon on strap, unprepared, cornered in booth-
Watson the satellite, saddened by bygones, a tile-worn emeritus sleuth.
I sensed the forensics just drip. Gushing arrogant clues.
I caught our summer mosaic in the reflection's affair...

The glassy tablet a megaphone. Rosetta Stone Air.
twenty characters to echo- rote silken robe for networking flairs.
captioning stalactites to adjective life- its amenities bare,
translating pictures to blurbs with maddening slight-
cuz I was the distraction of night. Lyrical labyrinth type.
thematics would strike, in your lab, the photogenician at ease.
you would listen to soul, ab initio, negatives afloat in an infrared bleed

she joked I was haunted by ghosts. American slew.
Engorged in oblivion. Kerouac. Whitman. Bloo Q. Kazoo.
Morrison's indian. Cobain, sky a typeset cobaltic,
cloud-cover stardust in bloom, reining in acidic cathodics,
Sitting cathartic. Carcinogen fumes we could puff.
Aware that my tonal grasp was approximately, too not enough.
Shifty and grayscale. Prolix, olden hat since... daguerreotypes, dude.
The finer points she filtered. White noises, polarized, pilfered.
Consumed like a slanted haiku, encoded tags coined to animamatrix.
Slowclap goodbye. Reunions are prone to standing room only ovations.
Paging old hand-framed photographs. Her descriptions still empty,
and I am not convinced of anything...

Pacing past the columned oak, her frozen lashes unblinking-
and I've got my smile flash closed, as I failed to fashion a greeting-
I've got a picture in mind of you grasping at speech,
and I dont know what I'm thinking

[Wise Wiggles]

wooooooooooooooooooooooooo

[PancakeBrah]

You've really started to dial in your style, or you at least took your time with piece. You still had the deeper vocabulary but it was a bit more restrained and effectively used. Sharpened. Earnest and reflective with top notch execution. I enjoyed it in bunches. The was one, maybe two, spots that got a bit too verbose for the flow you had going when I read it out loud but that's about my only complaint. Read it a few times, good shit.

"cloud-cover stardust in bloom, reining in acidic cathodics,
Sitting cathartic. Carcinogen fumes we could puff.
Aware that my tonal grasp was approximately, too not enough."

Great wording.

"Seventh-year figure, whitening jeans at the fray, Hermione shoes.
swirling the dregs of her tea without divining the truth.
Visine induced. Nikon on strap, unprepared, cornered in booth-
Watson the satellite, saddened by bygones, a tile-worn emeritus sleuth."

Particularly enjoyed the divining the truth-visine induced back to back rhyme. Hard to do well without being choppy but you did it well. You did it in a couple other spots as well with similar aplomb.

"Pacing past the columned oak, her frozen lashes unblinking-
and I've got my smile flash closed, as I failed to fashion a greeting-
I've got a picture in mind of you grasping at speech,
and I dont know what I'm thinking"

Great ending.

Drop more pieces.

[Certain]

This was a very Split Eight verse. I didn't like most of the first half. It was too fractured and clustered and didn't seem completely in place or at all attempting to connect with the audience. I've read every Harry Potter book twice and have no idea what "Hermione shoes" means. I'm very familiar with John Watson but don't know how his name could be used as a verb. Does "whitening jeans at the fray" mean the jeans are light around the fray or does it mean someone is actually whitening the jeans, as it's written?

The second half, where you shifted to focusing on the relationship between our two characters and used photograph as a thread to tie together your fragments, was much better. It was no less abstract or fragmented or Split Eight-y, but it felt more part of a whole and more carefully worded.

The last two lines were a bit more on the nose than the rest of the verse, but I liked that.

[Split]

&:-|

[big baby]

certain: basically i hate you when you're you and like you when you're like everybody else blah blah bahl keep dropping

me: Dope, great. Whatever you do, is you. Whether it be someone elses property of work, or your 'own' novelty. This was good. I like Split 8

[big baby]

Would like you to fool around with some accentual wording.

[Split]

thanx Certain

bb what kind of accents?

[Certain]

Originally Posted by big baby

certain: basically i hate you when you're you and like you when you're like everybody else blah blah bahl keep dropping

I use proper grammar. Also, I like Split Eight's writing.

[big baby]

lol you called me bb. :-*

I don't know, I feel sometimes it's too structured in a way of enunciation. My breath control feels stagnant.

[Ghost1]

Uve gotten better.....

More coherent from when i remember reading u in the NWL

By more coherent i mean......im not as smart as u....so when u say a bunch if big words back ti back its hard for me to follow......but if u spread them out i can follow by context.....whether im getting smarter (not likely) or ur just learning to play to ur audience a bit better without selling out urself short...this is keagues better then i remember u being.....scheme wise too id say uve definitely elevated.

I dont fuck w the subject matter or tone tho. But mechanically this is good.

[Split]

thx bags. I usually sit down to write and think "Im not gonna write like a bitch today" and then do that. Ill flex or something to break it up idk

Originally Posted by big baby

lol you called me bb. :-*

I don't know, I feel sometimes it's too structured in a way of enunciation. My breath control feels stagnant.

i know what youre saying, i will try to mix it up. i fall into patterns.

[Certain]

You've improved a lot even in the past five months.

http://netcees.co/showthread.php?t=9277

[Split]

Originally Posted by Certain

You've improved a lot even in the past five months.

http://netcees.co/showthread.php?t=9277

wow tho

all that piece needed was some more line breaks. I thought that piece was super sxc and also metaphorically sound.

but maybe not as much as Hide&Seek (it was about Shadow of the Colossus and attached themes srs)

if you really wanna cringe at newbie writing, open up my archives.... which i refuse to prune to make myself seem like a good writer


EDIT: i freepost like a motherfucker. brb feeding people

[Figgly Wiggly]

Can't feed this right now, but I'm digging it. Fuck yeah

[Fig]

you said photographs were the purest art-
to capture untethered human emotive conviction,
and showed me restaurant scenes- 'open incisions'-
The photographer, ensconced in oceans of pixels,
is the purity seeked. Motion is fixed for his or her Copernican leap.

This must be split eight. Wonderful. I love splitilydiddily. Open incisions was good man. So was oceans of pixels. I love that type of imagery shit.

But the viewer's de jure devotion is decomposure of scene-
what don't you see on display in this quieting view?

Seventh-year figure, whitening jeans at the fray, Hermione shoes.
swirling the dregs of her tea without divining the truth.
Visine induced. Nikon on strap, unprepared, cornered in booth-
Watson the satellite, saddened by bygones, a tile-worn emeritus sleuth.
I sensed the forensics just drip. Gushing arrogant clues.
I caught our summer mosaic in the reflection's affair...

These last two bars were dope. Didn't catch on to the hermoines shoes bit. Why won't you let me in split. Why.

The glassy tablet a megaphone. Rosetta Stone Air.
twenty characters to echo- rote silken robe for networking flairs.
captioning stalactites to adjective life- its amenities bare,
translating pictures to blurbs with maddening slight-
cuz I was the distraction of night. Lyrical labyrinth type.
thematics would strike, in your lab, the photogenician at ease.
you would listen to soul, ab initio, negatives afloat in an infrared bleed

I'm getting the sense that your using the process of taking a picture as allegory for love. Dope. There was some vocab here that was too dense for me to pile through. Negatives afloat in an infrared bleed. Yes dude.

she joked I was haunted by ghosts. American slew.
Engorged in oblivion. Kerouac. Whitman. Bloo Q. Kazoo.
Morrison's indian. Cobain, sky a typeset cobaltic,
cloud-cover stardust in bloom, reining in acidic cathodics,

This part lost me man. Saw some name drops. Recognized two of them. You're technically sound though, and that's always good.

Sitting cathartic. Carcinogen fumes we could puff.
Aware that my tonal grasp was approximately, too not enough.
Shifty and grayscale. Prolix, olden hat since... daguerreotypes, dude.
The finer points she filtered. White noises, polarized, pilfered.
Consumed like a slanted haiku, encoded tags coined to animamatrix.
Slowclap goodbye. Reunions are prone to standing room only ovations.
Paging old hand-framed photographs. Her descriptions still empty,
and I am not convinced of anything...
Pacing past the columned oak, her frozen lashes unblinking-
and I've got my smile flash closed, as I failed to fashion a greeting-
I've got a picture in mind of you grasping at speech,
and I dont know what I'm thinking

This was a damn good ending sir. Using all that vocabulary that is directly relating to photography is a stylistic choice that I can respect, even if that means I'm getting a fragmented view. More open Mic drops split please and thanks.

[Exis]

Chea this was fuckin' good man...I thought I fed this and yeah, cocaine is a hell of a drug lol, I remember readin' it though..but whichever what way it's my loss for not gettin' at this sooner.There was a joint you did with Wise a while back (before netcees couldn't afford to have the dot com at the end of the addy) that I wasn't feelin', well haven't times changed...it's like you've really come into your own now, discovered your ability and dropped a bomb on us with this, your wordin' has really improved...not sayin' it was shit but sometimes your word usage had me scratchin' my head alot thinkin' am I missin' sumthin' or am I that dense to understand it...this is an impressive write up my friend and you've come leaps and bounds like Certain said, your one of my favourites to read now and I encourage you to submit way more than you do fa real...you have an unusual/awkward style which is very original and when you let shit rip it turns out extremely dope Split.

Here's what I liked,

you said photographs were the purest art-
to capture untethered human emotive conviction,
and showed me restaurant scenes- 'open incisions'-
The photographer, ensconced in oceans of pixels,
is the purity seeked. Motion is fixed for his or her Copernican leap.
But the viewer's de jure devotion is decomposure of scene-

^^Great imagery.

The glassy tablet a megaphone. Rosetta Stone Air.
twenty characters to echo- rote silken robe for networking flairs.
captioning stalactites to adjective life- its amenities bare,
translating pictures to blurbs with maddening slight-

^^Dope.

she joked I was haunted by ghosts. American slew.
Engorged in oblivion. Kerouac. Whitman. Bloo Q. Kazoo.
Morrison's indian. Cobain, sky a typeset cobaltic,
cloud-cover stardust in bloom, reining in acidic cathodics,
Sitting cathartic. Carcinogen fumes we could puff.
Aware that my tonal grasp was approximately, too not enough.

^^Tightness.

Thought you closed it out brilliantly also, loved it...loved the whole thing fam.

Stay upwards.