Week 16: Spoken vs. Innovator - (Spoken)

[Vulgar]

LGPA Season 1: Week 16

Spoken Innovator

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


Topic:

Topic thread.


Good luck.

[Spoken]

Check

[Inno]

Ext

[Spoken]

http://img02.deviantart.net/8dfb/i/2015/157/9/8/the_clockwork_wimble_by_eccentricteatime-d8w7ye3.jpg

The skies shift with each tube,
The panic room quiet; ethical ambiance.
Lucid woes grovel at the thesis
We heed beyond warning of our faults
-in the stars
Waning introverted depictions
Deep beyond our thoughts; mind bending
We serve our hunger for insight
Thirsty for knowledge that's a fallacy.
Endeavors tied to succinct past transgression
Heavily scripted yet denied its place.
Its here that we begin to...
... build such a facade; our metronome
Our best to a solstice creed wading.
-at the daggers tip!
Crossroads with pebbles.
Mere shards scattered acrossm
this plateau of verbal cadence;
Treading the essence of being within its circle.

We were man before;
Words became reality...
.. a matrix of dreams.

Hardening our souls
This web engulfs- the richness
Behind guarded cages that beats;
Fluidity in our veins thriving!
We were..
Targets yet marksmen
Victims but still in control of these...
...wretched bygones eating.
-from the inside out.
A monster; nothing less with no...
...beautiful rivets. Just scars.
My closet of secrets deems me-
An imperfection in denial of the deeds.
The greed in me for wanting...
... saving myself and leaving other;
Prey.
To be slain of the norm while I keep
Etching thru infinite crevices.
To emerge beyond the root of evil.

As long as my hands were clean
-i was free of my past.

Waiting to be seen,
With psoriasis pigment;
Each scab reveals- ME!

[Inno]

3rd picture

Shes a current drifting along
Swiftly swimming across her waves
Sifting through a moments wreckage
Searching for her soul among the pin needles
Of rain drops.

flowing grace rowing wisdow, shes and old ship
With many captains taking helm, her vessel always vacant
Her heart on her sleeve with eyes engulfed in deceit
Light as a feather she glides atop the sun reflecting
Off her ocean.

Shes a sale with out a buyer, much less the winds
Dead in the water shes a living corspe
A boat afloat a hopeless sea, blindly sailing for shores
Set course for the rocks.

A siren singing hope to those with the want to need hope
A beast in beauties clothing. No fairytale end.
Selling lonesome woes to the lonely
her song sails the distance of cupids arrows
The nameless lose themselves along her current

[Woke]

I can't fully connect your verse to the topic honestly, other then you loosely mentioning a closet full of secrets. This was a decent read though. You toyed with gruesome thoughts but never truly dug into that dark side, I wish you had. So I enjoyed the read, but not the execution for the two reasons mentioned above.

So, after I read it a couple times and deciphered all of the errors, not good, I enjoyed the read. You gave me strong images of the ocean as a women, a gorgeous women. Overall a really good read aside from the numerous errors.

tough vote, while I liked the writing and connection to topic more from Inno, he had so many errors that I had to sift through and correct for myself in order to fully understand. So, I think Inno had the better verse but....

V/Spoken purely off of comprehnsion

[Vulgar]

Spoken - Alright, this is my assessment of your style: thick electrical circuit wires flailing about in multiple directions, lacking a central passage to surge in. I think this might explain a bunch of your losses in this league and in general; a craftsman's neglect towards the 'finer' aspects of circuitry. Symmetry with language. Common threads linked together unabashedly to accomplish a train of thought. I voted for you in your battle against Lars. You're capable of beating an elite writer.

As a whole, this poem was a bit scatter minded. There were profound lines, which I'll quote below, after a little of the old ultraviolence critique. (Not really, tbh.)

Our genetic luggage. The compartments of our destiny filled with items our evolution has spurned to us. Our imperfections, flaws, inhumanity. Was that what this was about?

What this was about for me was a treatise of sorts on what it is to be a creature of mankind, to have five senses and the gift - or burden - of consciousness, freewill, and the attributes of evil. You have a grip on vibrant ideas, that much is certain. Overall, it is a microcosm of what it should/could be. The film "The Matrix" invaded my senses when you mentioned it, though the word itself should stand independent from it, but I can't seem to stop images, characters and moods from entering my perception gauge. In a poem, for me, mechanics are less important than what's in the blood of the language. Every word you pump through carries straight to the reader's heart: his perceptive eye, and in turn he filters this dreamy fluid and decides if it is good, or bad, or even remotely digestible. This poem was hard to digest after my first two reads. On the third, I warmed up to it because of these:

"We serve our hunger for insight
Thirsty for knowledge that's a fallacy."

Crazy play on words here. Serving hunger, outlandish. Great quote. One of those quotes someone might determine is inconclusive and overgeneralized, but that can be appreciated for its wordplay and truth.

"My closet of secrets deems me-
An imperfection in denial of the deeds."

Our subconscious holds the key to our downfall.

"this plateau of verbal cadence;
Treading the essence of being within its circle."

Beautiful language.

I was impressed by this, Spoken. You are showing more of your arsenal, a glittering variety of knives and vials. But anyone can hold a weapon, only few can master it. Keep mastering it.



Innovator - So relieved you didn't end with... she's Mother Earth. Your style is most agreeable. You must be a diplomat in real life, not by career path but by nature. You are probably a potent force for making others see the reason in their ways, and at times their faulty logic. I say this because your descriptions and observations are mostly agreeable. I find them attractively spoken and accurate. In this poem, you have a go at explaining, painting... this woman in the water doing her peculiar things. It speaks on what it's like to be a woman stranded in the waters of self worth, searching for a harp's guidance to her moral orientation. Men assume a part of her life, a large part of it - she has to endure the passing sailors, the tidal waves of emotional backlash, and human pain. Although the woman is not the victim here, she can also become a siren, preying on a passing lone soul in the Arctic suburbs. It was a brisk read, I think. An added patch to your uniform could be embracing aspects of foreign language; let's say for example, Nordic or Scandinavian phrases, to expand the "cultural" feel of the piece and also suggest an added tonic to the mood.

This would have beat my poem this week. I would vote for it against my poem, lol. The pacing was the best part.

VOTE - Spoken

Reason: Innovator's poem was creamier, and was cooked to a more precise degree. Spoken broke some ground here with his writing, though, and the morsels he had that I quoted were excellent. This was his trump card this week.

[Vulgar]

Spoken wins 2-0.