Frank vs. Mr. J [MR. J 5-1]

[sral]

PAOWL Season V, Week 9


SUMMARY OF RULES:

Verses are due
Monday at 11:59 p.m. Western / or Tuesday 2:59 Am Eastern / 7:59AM UK
There are NO extensions.

Verses MUST be a minimum 10 lines or a maximum of 48 lines (or 650 words).

Votes are due Thursday at 11:59 p.m. Western / or Friday 2:59 Am Eastern / 7:59AM UK. Failure to vote will result in automatic sign out for the next week.

All competitors must vote on THREE battles and post links/ references in the voting thread.

Read the full rules here!

TOPIC:

http://cdn.tripwiremagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/fleeing-creativity.jpg


Frank Mr. J

[Frank]

GTFOH

[Mr. J]

You gonna show or make me waste a verse again...

[Frank]

Bobby wrestled Steve to the ground with all the might he could muster
Grabbing and gripping and grinding against one another like entwining brothers
A roughhouse is a roughhouse; but the kid Bobby was violently rougher
Children were forbidden to play at Bobby’s house without the supervision of the watchful eye of their mother
Chastised by their mother, polarizing to the shy boy – shying away from this stupefying sputter
Her outlandish view points: her “You two boys play nice” As Bobby aims right at his unpubed groin with pulverizing discomfort.
His mother horrifyingly shutters and shuts the door just as Bobby sucker punches Steve with a terrifying hunger
As his mother walks down the stairs; her gut feeling is turn right around and pry the youngsters.
Her gut rumbles with uneasy anxiety that sounds like the multiplying of thunder
That sounds like the rough housing upstairs, as she sits in the kitchen beside the vibrating, gyrating cupboards
Bobby throws Steve up against the closet with intensifying delight, as Steve silently suffers
Bobby pins Steve down until he’s satisfyingly smothered
Frightened and blustered - Steve fights for his underwear as Bobby tries untying the bugger
The entire slumber party has turned into an all out feminizing juncture
Bobby’s crouched over Steven in hybrid-like hover
Straddling Steve - his tiny testicles; sliming his struggler
Right in the eye: Steven tries to fight but he's undersized in the blunder
Emulsified like a plumber. Bobby humps Steve until Steven vocalizes a rupture,
Bobby slides into Steven - driving his cucumber into his Stevens Juicer - liquefying his lover
Steven is divided, as he lie in the covers of the bottom bunk bed; sheets wrapped tightly
His mother, a drunkard – drinking on, as Bobby fucks Steven in the moonlight of the suburbs.
As dust and parts of the ceiling spiral down onto her sofa, Bobby is rectifying it upward.
Bobby gratifyingly utters something stiflingly and trifling and Steve’s beating heart enticingly flutters
Bobby smiles as the summer dies, and his mother rises and walks up the stairs, her steps galvanizing with putter
Bobby running over to the bunk bed, lies next to Steve - side by side with a buffer
A bloody blanket with cum stains and power rangers on it, fighting the putty – striking the other
Mother opens the door and sees that the two boys have reconciled,
and begins tidying the clutter
Putting things away
As the two pretend to sleep - side by side in the structure in an uncompromising cluster.
I wouldn’t say they were snuggled,
but it made the mother analyze, as she would find and discover
Stevens underwear were off, and he appeared to be hiding in the covers, teary eyed and crying
As his mother picked up a mortifying rubber
His mother ripped off the blankets as Bobby started denying, denying
As Steve’s Mother stood there - petrified in her wonder
“Steven, what on earth are you doing” she said with crucifying puncture
The butler in back of her - adamant, admiringly ushers in, conniving and flustered
Helping Bobby out of the Bed, as Steven lie in exile in the covers
The Butler had been molesting Bobby.
Now Bobby was the one who confided in his brother
Steven lies dying inside - he tries to recover - there’s no beautifying the ramifying this fucker deserved - as Mother untied his hands,
after having surviving his plunder
They opened the door and Steve came out with flying colors

[Mr. J]

The walls become something that starts to fade in the distance
the visions are instant, I'm another being born into another existence
a pilgrim seeking wisdom, dancing the lambs tune...
sheepish & belligerent..what type of rhythm do you dance too?
there's the story of the man who did a jig like a baboon
threw feces at you and got praised for his courageous attitude
'such progress' you can see it in there faces as they ran through.
I'm shielded by magic, a force field to halt any invading intruders
adrenaline abuser, the highs & lows came with any set of boosters
living by conquest, over any landscape, the definition of progress.
you can tell by the stripes, the steps I've laid, I'm living accomplished.
in any instant.. you've lost it, that's life, twisted into all this...
with one vision to bring it together before oblivion is brought....
It's time...home is in the distance...that street appears in an instant
I'm another being.....born into another existence...
crossing the bridge where the rocks dwell, the echo of the streams cross well..
with each almost deafening bang that came from the distant Old Clock's bell...
next to the old library where I'd read of dinosaurs from a different era
many years before Jurassic Park, 'oh the things I would live in fear of...'
I scramble for thought as a sharp pain from my arm had entered my brain..
draining me fast enough to blur my vision, like I've severed a vein...
a major artery..nothing...almost as if the world stopped in mid drift
I saw every moment in one second, thinking to myself 'what is this...'
unaware of my bad luck when bungee jumping for a good time..
a few shots of tequila and a suck of the lime...
the medics rushed in & the emergency vehicles got us to the hospice..
in any instant I would have lost it, that's life, twisted into all this..
the shock was evident, & necessary procedures were followed
fighting back every sob, while every ounce of pride was swallowed
the morphine kicked in.....................




























*beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep*

[Flow]

I can only take from Franks that we were getting a insight into his life. I assume that you were Steve in this. Im glad that you are able to share these experiences with the group but while maybe therapeautic it may be better to hand this document to the appropriate authorities.

Although they may not read it as its simple one internal along with a stupidly simple end rhyme hardly grabbed the readers attention.

Also you go onto describe the amount of noise that they are creating while you got raped with a cucumber but say you suffered in silence... well... its hardly suffering silence. I think a better use of words could have emphysised the fact what your trying to say is you were silent so not to let anyone know how much you were enjoying the surprise sex.

Regardless this was an ok read if not a very sad confession of why you were a day late posting last week.


Mr.J. you really captured the image in your piece and i really enjoyed the lucid reverie that seemed to jump out from your words as if in a state of purgatory between two very vast worlds. There was beautiful flow great vocab internals and multis. Loved this so much i read it twice.

For that reason alone i vote Mr.J

[2tripple0]

Lol u thought that was dope I'm glad it's been informative to u but if lost a broth her so did he that's why kid rathe read story than www hat happened he rambled and forgot his matter but it was off target and although the system worked it would b r a plausible effort hmm me thinks my minds a split between the two. Maybe if the author filled in his little picture start with someone bakiing so I gave vote to Frank good b baattle.

[NYCSPITZ]

ayo I'll be honest I felt that frank's verse was extra, extra homo. It just creeped me out a little to be honest, and I thought it was just too gay of a verse to vote for. It was like, decent plot and all that shit but I'll be real I wasn't feeling the flagrant fag vibe on this. Could've flipped it way better, and as I agonized my way through the finishing section I felt it got a little jumbled up.

Mr. J came more abstract but I was feeling it more on this one. Some dope imagery then a cool surprise flip. I'm happy to see you delivering some spontaneity with the pen.

The walls become something that starts to fade in the distance
the visions are instant, I'm another being born into another existence
a pilgrim seeking wisdom, dancing the lambs tune...
sheepish & belligerent..what type of rhythm do you dance too?
there's the story of the man who did a jig like a baboon

^cool

living by conquest, over any landscape, the definition of progress.
you can tell by the stripes, the steps I've laid, I'm living accomplished.
in any instant.. you've lost it, that's life, twisted into all this...
with one vision to bring it together before oblivion is brought....
It's time...home is in the distance...that street appears in an instant
I'm another being.....born into another existence...

^dope

Then the cycle continues...

V/ mr. J

[King Ra.]

The names in this match-up make this seem like an intriguing read, and though its been awhile since I last read a topical verse, from past experiences, I'm pretty shocked at what transpired here. Both pieces weren't bad and both weren't what I'd expect from both writers. Obviously, Frank comes with his traditional end rhyme scheme, and a lot of times it works great with his content, but here it's pretty off from what I know he can do. I think despite his scheme not being up to par, the story comes off awkward, especially in connection with the image, which the only thing I can take from it is the rainbow colors because the story was about a young boy being raped by a butler? I don't know man. It was hard to read through the story but I did. It ended very weird. Flashes of some good writing but mostly the story itself wasn't all that good. Mr. J came with an approach I'd probably have gone with, an abstract, thought driven piece filled with some cool lines here and there, though others kind of came off bland. Nonetheless, I see the cohesion with the image here more than Frank's story, and the piece flowed much cleaner too. I believe Frank went way over his head in this one, delivering a disturbing story whereas J came with a more feasible piece that used elements of the image more clearly, and wrote a more interesting story in the end.

MVGT- Mr. J. Good job by both competitors.

[EtH]

Frank - I had heard people comment before and was like "Meh, it's a gay drop. He's playing a gay character. I'm not so over-compensating that I can't even get through it" but I have to say, I'm only a few lines but "unpubed groin" is already making this piece extremely uncomfortable. As I read on, I fucking hope you suck at imagery. Wait a fucking sec, didn't I just say to someone else about saying "shutter" last week? Is there some weird thing where Netcees thinks the expression is "shutter to think"? Maybe Americans say that? Nah fuck off it's shudder no matter what. "Tiny testicles"...maaaaan. You better fucking hope you never get wrapped up in some bullshit in the future that hits a high level. This is the kind of shit that turns up on the news where they say "No way he wasnt thinking of this". Anyways, yet again you try to scheme the whole way through, which would be impressive had the syllable count not been off multiple times. The storyline made a lot more sense than last week but was still very all over the place. They are kids. It doesnt matter if one's gay. Kids don't fuck each other. And anyways, you put it across like this was rape. Steve wasn't happy about it at any moment...and then he turned out to be gay? And what was with the random butler molestation? Easily the most uncomfortable Ive ever been reading a verse. I don't like your gimmick. You try to pass it off like you don't give a fuck about this. Scheme the whole thing crazy and weird topics, but it reminds me of the conversation between Michael and Trevor in GTA 5. Trevor wears specifically dirty clothes, he tries to seem like he doesnt care...he's a hipster. (My lights literally flickered when typing that...Frank...is that you?). Ironically it puts my internet off to...great.

Mr J - I found the topic to be a bit vague and confusing for my liking. You're in hospital, you're either on or just getting morphine...and that's as far as I know. Everything was written too specifically complex and I know some people like that style but I like to get the point. I know this picture is nuts and crazy (and Frank wrote sort of to the rainbows and nothing else) but I felt this piece was a bit too nuts and crazy for me. Whenever I struggle to get the point of a piece, it brings everything down a notch. I struggle with an image when one second there's a Jurrasic Park reference, a reference to an old bell, now in a hospital. Did you die at the end as well? Why would they administer morphine to someone who's about to die? I dunno, didn't really get most of what was happening here and it's not my writing style.

Overall, get the fuck out of here. How the fuck can I possible say what I'm about to say? I found one uncomfortable, and I didn't get one at all. How the fuck can I find this close? And even worse, how the fuck am I actually about to say this...

EDIT: Actually no. I change my mind. The fact that Frank barely wrote to the picture what so ever changes my outlook.

MVGT: Mr J

[Adonis]

Jay up 3-2

[Mr. J]

More like 4-1 amirite...

[Adonis]

Yes indeed Mr. J


Closing vote here


Mr. J wrote a solid read about death, visually charged and solid imagery. Rhyme wise, on par with Frank, which is to say, not very complex, but they worked. Frank had a shock value story that I would do not wish to read again.

V/J

better story