Playoffs Round 2: 10. Dr Dog vs. 2. dead man \\ dead man wins 4-0

[Certain]

http://i.imgur.com/ve4aXeF.gif

Round 2


The Basics | Read the full rules here (http://netcees.org/showthread.php?t=96884).

Verses are due Monday, April 6, at 11:59 p.m. PT. There will be no extensions.

Votes are due Wednesday, April 8, at 11:59 p.m. PT.

Verses may not exceed 48 lines or 650 words unless agreed upon by the opponent.

Topic


"The revolution has always been in the hands of the young." — Huey Newton


Good luck, dead man and Dr Dog.

[dead man]

my

father left home before becoming a man
at age 16. hugged his brother once and hopped in his van
pseudo Kerouac freelance pursuing faraway lands
36-cent cigarettes and 6-string case in his hand
Aunt Susie at rehearsal. swan lake. nightingale dancing
while their parents sat in leather loveseats, emptying glasses
stony mansion. Lincoln park. late 60's grainy refraction
interior designers and a maid for the mattress
full-time indentured babysitter paid for distraction
who taught my papa language in her Englewood accent
my father left home without a word of goodbye
to the man who taught him hate and how to fasten a tie
made him cut his ponytail and straighten his spine
curling fists like snarling lips to bridge the divide
private schools and jaguars for saturday's ride
slacks and loafers, cherrywood the hallways inside
a home supported by pride. whiskey wisdom and wine
Grandma took her misery on rocks with a lime
her oldest son left without a thought on his mind
fighting back teardrops as he shifts into drive
found himself Milwaukee-bound and feeling alive
locked the motel door. laid in bed and he cried
for the sake of ventilation. 2 parents, 20 patients
psychiatrists with offices and bars in their basement
wealthy vagrants. thin oasis next to Michigan sands
less generational gap. more so distant attachment
it was Summertime in June when all the flowers are bright
perfuming 2-wheel voyages back home every night
Grandpa smashed the records that my father would buy
Beatles vs. Beethoven when the volume was high
i was taught that you can never run away from your past
less shape-shift, and more so generational gap
my father gigged the city for a pocket of cash
my childhood was microphones and ashtrays and amps
but fleeing from his father was a father-to-be
i can't forget November 4th, 2003
we watched my Grandpa die inside a hospital sheet
telling papa he had tried to be the best he could be
held hands. their silence echoing as loud as a scream
staring at each other. lost inside of a dream
they were nothing alike but shared this moment the same
there's no one to blame. the only constant is change
so they say. acculturated in a spectrum of gray
children never follow everything their fathers will say
my son left home the other day and never returned
while i sat inside the basement with a camel to burn
drowned in office politics and woodford reserve
marveling how everything continues to turn
in circular swerving motions on a singular spoke
revolving repetitive via youth in revolt.





DEADMAN








Dr Dog -- 50 lines total. hoping thats ok with you

[Split Eight]

before I could drive-
my mental map was a square mile plot
in classmate coordinates & in what measure of minutes
I'd arrive if I biked or I walked.
every ride in the car stretched through irrelevant lines
as the interstates plots are terribly lost on developing eyes.
even a quest to the store wasn't dimensioned in time
but by landmarks- in a land marked by neighborhood stores,
and the hundred acres of forest that bled through the drive.
when we played in those woods, we were makers, divine.
the autumn-red patchwork spread through our minds,
a kingdom enraptured by 'now'- eventually
the Fall would catch up. and every haul on the bus
led us down an identical path. it wasn't better in class.
give me a dollar for every educator who [dared] us to think
outside the box- a derivative narrative prepared as a speech,
as he paced the cubic confines of the American teen,
in fact he himself had been a victim of education



so I laugh
when you imply the future's in the hands of the youth,
because it's sad no one ever thinks to hand them the truth.

[NYCSPITZ]

Split - I thought it was a dope ending bro. Really liked the second half too. It really picked up when you started talking about childhood nostaglia and the first few lines were cool. Sometimes you took more than one line to finish a rhyme which is pretty wack imo as this is a topical verse. Really wish you would've focused more of the content on what you did in the second half as the first half didn't merit its own length - I feel likeyou should've stopped at the biked/walk line. the next four lines come across weak to me. Like I said, the ending was strong but not strong enough to compensate for the beginning.

Deadman - Persuasive. Personal. I liked it a lot. Slick rhymes, ill delivery, you had the works here.

pseudo Kerouac freelance pursuing faraway lands
36-cent cigarettes and 6-string case in his hand
Aunt Susie at rehearsal. swan lake. nightingale dancing
while their parents sat in leather loveseats, emptying glasses
stony mansion. Lincoln park. late 60's grainy refraction

^^ nasty

my father left home without a word of goodbye
to the man who taught him hate and how to fasten a tie
made him cut his ponytail and straighten his spine
curling fists like snarling lips to bridge the divide
private schools and jaguars for saturday's ride
slacks and loafers, cherrywood the hallways inside
a home supported by pride. whiskey wisdom and wine
Grandma took her misery on rocks with a lime
her oldest son left without a thought on his mind
fighting back teardrops as he shifts into drive
found himself Milwaukee-bound and feeling alive
locked the motel door. laid in bed and he cried
^^ power verse

Yeah. I'd pretty much quote most of this verse. Great job.

V/ deadman

[Zen]

I’ve got a terrible headache, but this will be the only time I have a chance to vote today so I’m sorry for it being so short.

Black-As always, this was great. I really like how you use pauses in your verse. “stony mansion. Lincoln park. late 60's grainy refraction”, that’s a perfect example of that. It sets the scene, and reads smooth as hell. And this, “held hands. their silence echoing as loud as a scream”, well, that’s an awesome line. Nicely done.

Splitty: This was a very Split 8 verse. Example: “even a quest to the store wasn't dimensioned in time but by landmarks-“ very Split 8 indeed. The first few lines I was like, wait, what? Then in the end I was just nodding, like, yeah, man. I never truly “know” what you mean, but I dig it anyway. You’re cool. Hook me up with some Adderall.

V/Black for making fifty lines feel like twenty. Good battle.

[Certain]

Dr Dog: This verse was tremendously relatable at first, but it hung its hat on a weakly supported thesis in the end. The descriptions of a youthful naïveté were perfect, but I wish you had better fleshed out the immaturity angle to justify the conclusion. I am partial to the topic deconstruction approach, though.

dead man: Jesus, you're hitting a new high lately. This is the best storytelling I have seen from you, and the detached-yet-emotional narration was a rare touch. A cleaner plot would have been nice, but it also might have destroyed some of the poetry.

Vote: dead man

[UnbornBuddha]

Deadman: This narrative almost seems personal. I also notice that in your verses you use the details of Chicago streets and all their vibes to sketch a certain feeling you get from them, are inspired by, or use them to best represent the emotional standpoint from which your coming from. In the spirit of divulging information, I am from Chicago, which I assume you are too, so all those scenes particularly strike a cord of recollection in me. Good job, although it felt a bit on the side of sappy. Which I understand your going for, especially with the intimacy of the details, but sometimes for me the emotion overpowers the spirit of the piece. But for some people the spirit of the writing is the emotion, the fuel of expression, in their eyes.

Split: This piece was the least opaque that I've read from you. You definitely have a poetic touch that encompasses a piece that therein symbolizes was written by Split 8. Anyways, this following lines I felt were very powerful

give me a dollar for every educator who [dared] us to think
outside the box- a derivative narrative prepared as a speech,
as he paced the cubic confines of the American teen,
in fact he himself had been a victim of education

I really liked this youthful viewpoint, because it really is a young aged hot-blooded thing to believe. I also liked the hundred acre wood, and the scenic details that were arranged as the travelling took place. But, as much as I loved your verse it cannot be compared to Deadman's simply because the length is a considerable thing to factor in. If your writing was stronger and shorter I could give you the vote. But his is not just longer but is operating at the same technical prowess, so this time you got bested by not just his ability but the extensiveness of reach that he delivers. Which I believe that you can do, but this time you sold yourself short. Although, it was a very enjoyable explicit read, I cannot say that enough.

Vote; Deadman