Frank vs Objective OPEN FOR VOTES (Recombined)

[Inno]

LGPA Season 2: Week II


Frank

Check ins: MondayMidnight Eastern time)
Poems Due: Wednesday (Midnight Eastern time)
Votes due: Sunday (Midnight Eastern time)


Topic:

Imagery is the focus of this week. Put together a story chalked full of imagery. Give us a live picture. You may choose your own muse. But rememeber. Imagery will be the focus of your diction.



Goodluck

[Frank]

Check

[Objective]

I'm looking at the fluorescent computer screen,
can't write a visionary scene as it seems
my imagination (otherwise supreme) is on quaranteen.
I can feel
breadcrumbs between the worn keys tickle my finger tips,
the black monitor reveal the mirror image of a wide Snoopy-eyed guy with a dark grip.
This hardship...
Oh shit,
I need a meal...

As I walk into the dirty kitchen with food molding in the sink
and household items holding unknown life it's evident I need a drink.
Or a higher paid shrink is what I think
as I waltze adventurous through the maze of trash,
it'd be clean if I had a maid or enough space for cash.
Burnt food is stashed in such a way I kind of embrace the ash,
mountains of dishes outplaying jenga on expert simultaneously making a fool out of diaper rash...
I shrug and blame it on my no-lifer stache.

I jump my way to an oasis with the basis of limited floor space,
if I stand still I can move my direction in the maximum of four ways.
Unless the yellow-brown ceiling with white-grey spots fall down upon my head
and the infections of bacteria haven't seeped into the walls yet.
I touch the wooden panels above the oven and it's moist as shit,
and see the unidentified brown source drip as I walk backwards and slip.
I fall into a puddle of black liquid stench while bugs run for escape,
guess the only healthy thing I've done in a while is starting to vape.
I hear a sizzling sound as I envision demons starting to wake,
and centipede sightings from month old grapes crawl from the lake.
Confess to myself that I can't remember the last time that I ate
anything that hasn't really gone way past expiry date,
with the common exuse that ''a few days isn't really that late'',
I've come the understanding this landscape is sort of my fate.

Get back on my feet and even though half of me is wet,
I hurdle my way back to the living room in pounds of regret.
Take a look into the abyss of the nasty parts of the internet,
and a write a piece on how hard the christmas standards is hard to be met.

[Frank]

Dedicating this to my homie who's beyond the grave
Pour out a little liquor for the shorty, let the
marijuana waif
We used to skip class, split nicklbags, won't ever forget that day- we were on our way
When this clique passed., and in the middle of this riff raff, a nitwit grabbed his du-rag and told him" yo baby pa u lame"
..,,,,no words were exchanged... all I remember was a blurr of his rage
In the crack of dawn dismay
We were on our way, through that hallway, through that project hallway, down that boulevard of gangs
We were walking the walk, talking the talk, half the time you wasn't up how he tawked with our slang
On that basketball court... we would ball in your lane, they calling us white chocolate: pausing the tape
All I ever wanted to do was spin -
Like them crystal clear blue waters in the Florida bay's
Threw on my du-rag, it was Orange and beige.
I made sure my line was in the middle of my forehead like your grandmother parting your braids
Word is bond it was straight.....It didn't matter that my hair was blonde. I was donning it great.
Brushing my hair all the damn time like my baby sister brushing her barbies head
- run along & go play.
Anyways.....so what was I saying? Oh yeah
Money pulled out the revolver and sprayed
It echoed throughout the party like gun shots in the Bob Marley songs of the day
He laid in his blood, looking up, calmness and faith
Bullet lodged in his brain,... Paramedics responding. Police questioning - 'Were you in anyway involved in this slain?'
Before he went to meet God in the plains... He took off his Du-Rag- to an astonishing amaze
360 honorable waves, Grease in his eye as he Palmed the pomade.......

All I ever wanted was waves
Spin

[Adonis]

Oh man, so writing about writing is dead. Writing about writers block is cliche and just old news. I enjoyed the imagery aspect, though, the house is Fowl it sort of made me cringe. On the other hand Frank had a verse written decently, but the direction was also weak. I feel like he had a bit of rust, both actually, but in the end, the topic WAS to write a STORY full of IMAGERY and based only on that, I feel objective accomplished the imagery far better while only barely being out performed on writing a story so

OB

[Inno]

Good match i think frank over reached a bit and found himsef lost at times wheres as objective though subtle managed to keep the story going while keeping the imagery coherent and vivid. Good shit tbh objective really brought some hest this week.






Objective wins