Week 12 Championship: rsaL vs. Spoken - (sraL retains championship)

[Vulgar]

LGPA Season 1: Week 12

sraL Innovator

This is for the championship, gentlemen.

Check ins: Thursday (Midnight Eastern time)
Poems Due: Friday (Midnight Eastern time)
Votes due: Sunday (Midnight Eastern time)


Topic:

See topic thread.


Good luck.

[sral]

WHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

[sral]

http://orig02.deviantart.net/2887/f/2015/256/5/b/5b357b74dabcc991700fd5f762e85d2d-d99fix3.jpg



Some burn their bridges and never return to visit the spot.
For killers it's not so simple a problem.
The thrill of them spotting me at the scene of the crime has me feeling alive.
I need it.
I thrive on seeing them try to fathom my work
frantically searching for a pattern the murderer uses.
It's almost absurd in its stupidity. Don't they think I've thought this through?
I'm sure they do.
Every morbid move I've made in this elusive game of cat-and-mouse, has been planned throughout.
If any have their doubts, they're welcome to try and find evidence of my crime.
They have no leads to the burial site, I read it online.
The sketch they provided doesn't even look anything like me.
They're generalising how I'd think and act with others from the distant past.
This, perhaps, is their mistake.
Not every killers the same.
It's the thrill of the chase that gives me the shakes.
The feel of my heart as it thumps once they've started to run.
Harder it pumps.
Each breath enlarging my lungs.
I play the part of the hunter, smelling their fear in the air.
Nothing really compares to hearing they're scared before the acts committed.
The look on your average victim, panic-stricken, prior to death.
The subtle change as the colour drains from their ivory flesh.
The widened recessive pupils.
That last gulp that arrives in their neck as you deprive them of breath.
The twang of the cheese wire as its stretched from behind them and pressed
tight to their epidermis as they writhe and contend in a fight to the end.
Life, and thus death, dangling by just a thread.
There's a romanticism attached to killing.
Me and each tragic victim have a bond lasting long after they've passed beyond.
It carries on in my memory.
Forever even, never leaving.
In that final breath I hear them breathe, we convene and form a connection.
For all of a second, it almost feels destined for our paths to cross.
I stand and watch as their eyes roll backwards, stopping only once I've
satisfied the wrath inside.
Pacified by these hands of mine as my powers asserted.
Now, this is perfect.
A half-smile awakens.
Arms wildly shaking.
Heart like a bass kick.
My dark side abated, at least until the next hour emerges...

[Vulgar]

16th birthday and im all jittery..
.. I keep fumbling with words
Because what I was told is something
-Special

It read....



Dearest Son,

I love you..
...and I....

Kept a tune that wasnt working,
Passed a gimmick as a another person,
Stuck inside a riddled mind so I let the gun hit picture perfect.
.
.
.
So as I stepped, I barricaded my own thoughts inside a cube,
Left it open...
.. for what is spoken can find its way back to you.
Did u see it? Was it nice? Did u find what others liked?
Scribbling a thesis on how to meet this... so called heathen at night.
See- you and me are alike, we stay aligned as the planets,
Circular regiments have emptied this heart of gold onto granite.
-but this is my world...
... if u want it come grab it.
.
.
.
"The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding go out to meet it. [Thucydides]"
.
.
So I send you my best...
In hopes of such meaning revived,
I let you go but did you know that every star I had scribed.
Gave u time to develop and see the world as a vessel,
Let the theatrics play its role as I sit here wishing I met you.
My wrongs have left me...
.. in such dissarray with disparities.
The touch of your skin I can only say
Is as warm as the suns first peak.
Voice so beautiful it harkens..
... what blackens behind.
For clarity- this is an ode!
The son I had left so he could grow just to weep.
As I fade to the darkness...
... I challenge the mind.

My son- the bravest soul alive..

Forever,
Love Mom!

The emotional ride I had just took
Let me wanting some answers.
He said son let me explain to you all about cancer.
So we stayed up for hours. We shared tears in the room,
Proceeded beyond the doors outside on the stoop.
Then I wiped his chin... and without him having a clue,
Told him that between us two.... Dad. The bravest one was you.

[Inno]

VotIng tonight


Ok so i read both again and again and i feel like lars droppex a for complete piece
With everything tangible brought to an good end. The story was dope man. The writing
Outstanding i wish i would of had time to write for this foreal. Spoke i feel like each line
You had was on the brink of brilliance but just didnt get there gor me. Last minute writing?
Dunno it felt like that. Disjointed and messy. But you had some outstanding lines.

Dipe battle foreal but i feel like lars had more preparation andctime to flesh out his piece while spokes felt it was rushed. Thanks fellAs

[Frank]

sral MR ISTL himself with a gruesomely disturbingly methodical master piece here. A skim through a killers notebook if you will. A tiny font maniac with time to kill if you will. A scenic route, perfect place for a masked man to spring out really, what better place for the murderer to hide then behind the bushes? Real 1950's way to kill someone. You executed your idea brilliantly. "Life is dangling just a thread" segment was especially vivid. Enjoyed the flow all together really Effortless transitions. The metaphor conclusion for this being about your darker side was dope. Gave this otherwise peaceful setting a much eerier vibe. Well done.

spoken, what I liked most about this was it's formatting. It had a truly spoken word way of sitting on the screen. I felt this was touching. Had it not been so all over the place you could've had a real solid piece. You had the sentimental value, but you diluted it with a bunch of filler. I did enjoy this for what it was. An emotionally channeled ode to your family. A little more impact content wise could elevate you to another tier. You obviously have the heart, I would just work on my mechanics if I were you. You had a hard hitting last line - you just have to follow through more through the hip with the verse. I'm voting sral.

MVGT SRAL

MVGT

[Vulgar]

sraL - Crystalline wording here. It's interesting that killers are supposed to have abnormally high IQ's, which aids them in their ability to charm their victims, and people in general. I thought the presentation was solid. I've noticed you're mixing rhyme and non-rhyme devices a lot better, interweaving them in different places, giving the piece a certain locomotion. Some aspect of the voice of the narrator was verging on a somewhat monotone note; I felt like a little more personality could've been injected into it. The breakdown of a killer's routine seemed to be a textbook style rather than a first-person narration that offers a set of experiences and philosophy. Just something to consider - but good job.

Spoken - Lars wrote a technically savvy, detailed and thorough piece. Spoken's was affecting in a way that is very rare for poetry with me. He struck a chord in relation to emotions and parents - quite a powerful subject. I found more "soul" in this poem. The structure, construction/mechanics and so forth needed a little bit of a touch up/some work, but that doesn't take away the effectiveness of some individual lines that made impact. I liked the fact that you showed vulnerability here.

Therefore, my vote goes to Spoken.