01-02-2016, 12:45 PM | #1 |
Tsk Tsk
Join Date: Feb 2013
Location: Beer Goggles
Posts: 4,834
Battle Record: 36-34
Champed - Lime Green Poetry Association
- NFL Pick'em 2016-17
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Round One: Soulstice vs. Neutral
Winter Topical II: Round One
SUMMARY OF RULES: Verses are due JAN. 11th MONDAY at 9 P.M. Pacific/West Coast or MONDAY 11:59 PM Eastern / 6:00 AM TUESDAY JAN. 12th Central European/London 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 4:00 p.m. Western / or Thursday 7:00 PM Eastern / 1:00 AM Friday Central European/London Failure to vote will result in NEGATIVE VOTES if you advance to the next round. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? You can technically start a match down three votes by failing to log a single vote the previous week. so.... All competitors must vote on THREE battles Read the full rules here! Topic: G/Luck @Soulstice @neutral
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I'm tryna fuck like A-don-is TUPAC SHAKUR Last edited by Adonis; 01-02-2016 at 03:00 PM. |
01-02-2016, 03:25 PM | #2 |
native system
Join Date: Mar 2013
Posts: 387
Battle Record: 18-21
Champed - Short-Verse Topical
Rep Power: 4453408 |
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01-11-2016, 11:31 PM | #4 |
native system
Join Date: Mar 2013
Posts: 387
Battle Record: 18-21
Champed - Short-Verse Topical
Rep Power: 4453408 |
He was born an emperor God - who could make diamonds from sand
not the type that shine in your hand, but the kind that command A resonant calm. An audience ceasing their texting and calls To see something vibrant and grand, & behold the depth of it all. He lives as an atheist heretic - a Sisyphus counting the grains for the powerful While he's chained up & bound in a slave ship. An accountant by trade - ever since he drowned in the bay Now all the beach can provide him is a misty, dour display. He once whittled hours away - on the shore by dearest Poseidon Where he built castles to show what he was feeling inside him .. Now he's indentured to slavers on the same beach where he grew Since he swapped a sense of creation for stained teeth and a roof At twenty two, beneath the waning gibbous He sculpted castles with a pain that lingered In his straining fingers - from the weight of time & an empty heart reconciling with an aching mind. He takes his time as he beholds his final creation He dreams of a youth of amazement as he lies by the basin The passionate sunshine to his trite occupation That kept his inner child alive and fine & In the morning, he would rise and shine but for now he'd just rest his eyes beside the rising tide. |
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