Reset.

[Eŋg]

Mind closes in on open words: vers libre,
so (ab)norm it lacks form, I don’t know what that’s worth, either.
The nurse leaves a
bad taste on the table & syringe in my mouth
(stoic birds in contrast to the trees singing aloud).
Reset. I’m pretty sure there’s a shill in this house,
just unsure what they’re selling – “two pills” the amount
she said. Then I should be feeling the drowse,
so whose head am I really sitting in now?
Figure it out. Ignoring what your lore on physics allow,
at the apex, sitting above in shadow,
bumping Taro, told you… triangles are my favourite shape:
primal bathing ape, see her naked nape,
seek to graze - or taste - then breach her navel space,
tryna hit it from the back ‘till I split her present & her past
(dw the bitch’s frame is safe: I can change the pace)
Reset. Sex is secondary,
don’t waste Time: It wounds all heels, see even second’s heavy.
Reveal depth as elementally as a sentry to his own thoughts can,
but don’t force, man, traded drunken overhands
(with no over-the-shoulder glance) to be sober, thanks;
swinging anachronistic aluminium blades made from soda cans,
For how long do Novas last? I’m sorry, love, I lost the buzz
& never wanted to hold your hand, it was just a Freudian trance.
Don’t feel there’s ever been much to owe to chance,
so load your own arms and do a fucking Cossack solider dance.
Equip yourself; you sick & help’s just over the stonewalled dam.
Take aim, spray flame like you would paint those tags.
no penalty for missing, hit any potentially a witness, it ain’t so bad.
Reset. This a therapy for misfits,
every felt memory is twisted & the realm of reverie is cryptic,
my lethargy; a misprint (put the wrong impression on the signet).
We’ll miss things: like our juvenile energy… when we limp-dicked,
Or a time before I made an enemy of siblings,
The ship sinks; I suppose that some benefits are limpid.
Given the honest praenomen of English, a linguist,
That’s promise my pen’ll be distinguished.
Don’t relinquish, self-doubt’s a hindrance
…you cannot extinguish Firefrost,
the cold-flamed no-name grows brave in a trying spot,
Lying locked… in the lion’s jaw,
& all I did was try and roar.
Only sometimes scrawl a line & find it raw,
Though I’m sure there’s a time when all
I’m fighting for… is to write some more,
without reason or rhyme nor thought.
An inkwell, inked well, is mightier than the finest sword.
Despite the law mine is broad
and as clean-cut as the Lysefjord.
Reset. Fuck it; I guess my life is flawed.
Elysian halls remain a dream that mock,
I’ve an obituary tattooed from a demon’s jot,
Reminiscent of broken sweethearts who sleep apart
As secrets part, ‘cause we think what’s real is not.
I ain’t never speak my heart; all speech is dark,
yet I’m still tryna seek that spark, heat or hearth
to leave a mark, naw I don’t need that needled arm.
Need a Calm… to precede the storm,
in the Eye of my atmosphere my seat is worn,
Seen a stork eaten by a seagull’s scorn, nevertheless
a seed is born; feel your spawn’s breathing’s warm,
you beam, & fawn, course. that breed is yours,
a source of peace & all your reason for living,
be sure to tell ‘em that, before the whole demeanour is switching.
Yet what do I know, not sure what I’m even thinking.
Reset. Fairly certain I need a repeat prescription.

[Split]

Bump. Will edit in feed. Hope it's not a repost.

[Matriarch]

read very train-of-thought-esque.

Lots of great lines and ideas.

I enjoyed this a lot.

Look forward to reading more of your stuff, stranger.

[Certain]

I could've sworn I replied to this days ago. Anyway, I really liked it. I think I liked the concept more than the execution, though. Had I thought of this wonderful idea, I probably would have grounded it in more concrete images and had the narrator discussing the world he keeps awakening to, brain reset. But I see what you did, twisting the previous section slightly each time while changing your rhyme patterns up a little in the process. There were a lot of great sections to this, and I'll quote a few lower, but I guess my only complaint is that the actual topic of the verse didn't quite connect with the content.

Figure it out. Ignoring what your lore on physics allow,
at the apex, sitting above in shadow,
bumping Taro, told you… triangles are my favourite shape:
primal bathing ape, see her naked nape,
seek to graze - or taste - then breach her navel space,
tryna hit it from the back ‘till I split her present & her past

The approach to writing about sex here was fresh and brief enough that it worked. It's not easy to execute this without sinking to low levels.

Reset. This a therapy for misfits,
every felt memory is twisted & the realm of reverie is cryptic,
my lethargy; a misprint (put the wrong impression on the signet).
We’ll miss things: like our juvenile energy… when we limp-dicked,
Or a time before I made an enemy of siblings,
The ship sinks; I suppose that some benefits are limpid.

The nostalgia angle might have fit the topic better than anything else in the verse, and the writing here weas strong. Your vocabulary is impressive but not overused at all, and the parenthetical expressions were welcome changes of pace.

[Eŋg]

Originally Posted by Split Eight

Hope it's not a repost.

i'm rarely in that habit.

Originally Posted by Matriarch

stranger.

say hello to Ang-core for me.

thanks yo. will get u back @Certain

[Vulgar]

@oXus

Sorry for the delay.

This was a fairly rotund and spirited verse from you, lad. The airless region skimmers and the Cambridge nose doctors beam their expressions in your direction. Abacus. Aberrant. Abel's Sunday Fablemaker. Cankersores?

NO.

Some of the lines / concepts you flip on an intelligently Coptic tip sometimes border on corny, but over time I've grown to enjoy your quips, exchanges and formations of the layered kind. You've called me verbose over the years; rightfully so in most cases, though I think you take the lead in that regard for your carefully pressed pasta. Leningrad, Pen-in-graduate's hand as he goes to university in India. Or Morocco. Or Pakistan where the sun always shines. Or Badr Hari's dad's house. Take your pick.

I'll quote what I thought stood out as the might of Maccabee flows through these pseudo-Jewish veins.

Given the honest praenomen of English, a linguist,
That’s promise my pen’ll be distinguished.
First time reading the word praenomen, ever.
Don’t relinquish, self-doubt’s a hindrance
…you cannot extinguish Firefrost,
the cold-flamed no-name grows brave in a trying spot,
Nicely done.
Lying locked… in the lion’s jaw,
& all I did was try and roar.
lol a bit corny
Only sometimes scrawl a line & find it raw,
Though I’m sure there’s a time when all
I’m fighting for… is to write some more,
without reason or rhyme nor thought.
An inkwell, inked well, is mightier than the finest sword.
Very good.

The rest of the verse followed this same pattern, I think. Keep the molten ink flowing onto the page, bruv.

Keep doing Hume

[Eŋg]

hey guys. can we start again.

also @Split Eight

i will spit in your alcopops.

[Mr. J]

Interesting around the 3rd reset I lost interest tbh
something about the wording after seemed....bland

[Eŋg]

two more resets and you've made it. go on. do it. add your own chilli flakes, if need be. this ain't pizza hut (yet). RESET. don't post in this thread again/think i'm encouraging you to expand on your fb, don't, but do it. for you. and me? persevere. not for me. i'm sure you can. sure of it. you could shrug of this mortal coil and not allow your judgment to be clouded by such a base, earthly, emotion. but you are on earth, aren't you? so what am i saying? fly? you can't fly, bro. you could. legit. like psychokinesis. or Chronicle? you see it? but that movie kinda ripped Otomo off so we say no more on the matter. well done, you. well done.

add. OH. you think? really really? sigh.

[Mr. J]

More like Akira based on your avy



interesting I encourage you to.......fish on

[Split]

feed here later


by later i mean soon but not tonight or tomorrow, probably. saturday i think

[Adonis]

Hmmm...some rhymes were forced, but you still did good by the meanings behind them, so I guess flow was forced not rhymes?? Def read like free thought, not much strucutre but a strong grasp on language is eident a long with the ability to make thought known, if you will. To me, and I may be the only one but every verse can and should be interpreted 10 ways from Sunday...to me, this was simply a cry for help, or more soul searching I guess. The charcater cleary has a drug issue, the character also has the need to be great at writing. So the character I guess is battling with self, in and out of a conversation with self about whether to be great, or pop another pill. I'm not the biggest fan of free writing, but I will say you're good at it. I can free write pages upon pages. But to me, its like a never ending free-style,, at some point structure will find her way in. Either way, good drop. Overall, a thoughtful and intriguing verse about a inner look of one soul, who deserves some beer and less doubt.

[Scripter]

This was interesting I liked the structure, and a lot of the word play that you used, your use of the word "reset" seemed to work well allowing you to focus on different angles, well thought out, Keep writing!

[Inno]

godam the vocab use...the flow...each reset stands alone if they could but they come together to piece something dope...loved your imagery my friend...loved the depth of each line...each word seemed to connect to something else...something more and I thought that was fucking ill man...at times it felt like you lost your way..but not in a bad way I think...more of a focused madness...you forgot the world lol...either way this was enjoyed thoroughly. I actually thought that lion line was dope...sometimes corny shit can be dope as well...


good job eph.

[Eŋg]

oX is so much simpler to spell/remember tho, right?

ok, last one. i will get all of you back - if not already - with feed you won't want by the time you finish reading it. probably. but i will.

[Split]

sup oX? How's rXford?

really cool drop. there's a lot of content, and content within that content, but this seemed to strive towards being more approachable than your P.C. offerings.


at first, I thought you were just setting up everything for that NUTS second's heavy wordplay bar. Then I realized you're just a good writer. I could probably write a paragraph on your opening line.

Going to the center of the verse, the repetition of "reset" to accompany the juxtaposition of a (constant) intimate understanding of language AND (nonconstant) synchronicity with the connotation with your life TO the aloofness of truly understanding, itself. Moments of clarity amidst decay. (sorry 4 caps brb run on sentence)


I guess that sounds cliche in those terms. But the way you presented the above was masterful.

This path becomes cyclical, but perhaps the deeper theme of this piece is that this relationship is only surface deep... an approximation, maybs?

I got this sense from the progression of the piece... a shill is like, a betting enabler right? Lol wikitionary lol. I get the gist of it. So you start off in a hospital ward? With a Roxy scrip or something? And whatever she tells you hangs in the air, and its ambiguous and almost artificially resonant...

and then each use is a reset of sorts to that first time. But it's also a reset to the disconnected feeling. Each time you reset, the feeling you reset to grows and grows its canon, both in the articulation of the rush and the discomfort.

With this growth, the language grows denser and more precise, but also becomes an abstraction of itself, of a past and more simple form. like the drug use.

Finally at the end, you (or your narrator) realizes that the ambiguity and misunderstanding comes from within you and within your life, that the use of the drugs doesn't reset at all but rather is another iteration along the journey... with this you feel a tinge of regret- or maybe pure apathy- that the entire experience has eluded your understanding/ control while at the same time giving us the illusion of choice


Whew


Well, I think in the end, this was an excellent multifaceted metaphor for the study of any art, and the human experience in itself... on a much more relatable and specific level than that sounds. Did a great job developing this on a philosophical, or I guess just literary level. exemplary superposition of your tone/ voice so as to give a piece character.

EDIT: i guess human experience is a cop out. more like, mastering the art of zero inertia

really liked the presentation of learning as a whole, as well as how you connected your verse. I feel as if very few writers (1/20) can make a verse feel "complete" or self-evident. Spraying tags, despite the law, praenomen, and second's heavy were all immensely enjoyable

Flow and mechanics were way above standards. Especially use of punctuation. Such an acquired taste.

I'll have to come back and decide if I want to nominate this. Superb, tho. I really need to put time into writing a piece like this. nothing inspires me lately, and i hate fictionalizing.


you should feed me and Blacketh's collab at some point, cos I know you've been eyeing it (:

[Split]

@oXus read these things i wrote about your things

[Angkor]

^^very nice, Split. I've always thought feedback was something most cats don't take seriously (usually giving the most minimal feed for the sake of forum rule). Hell of a feed, dawgie.

is this Etym? That style is too familiar not to be.

[Eŋg]

great read, Splitty. althought IDK what collab you mean.

that you, Angkor? should have known. btw you mean that style is too dope*

thank you, my cambodian ninjutsu nigga.

[Pakistani Hand Cannon]

i should diss you