Slam Poetry/Battle Thread

[CaptinPickAxe]

I'll start it with a nice poetry piece I just wrote.

Underground Manifesto
by SifuBeats

Bottom feeding makes a nice conversation piece,
but you always end up starving or eating the deceased.
Scavaging emcees lake originality.
Damaging the ecosystem with bush-like mentality.
Trash men of the food chain,
Cleaning others messes while expelling methane.
Choking my air supply till there's nothing left.
untill we all die fighting for that last precious breath.
Genocide for the fore fathers who dreamed of change.
killed in the name of pop culture and for the sake of the same.
I'd be one in a million if a million where left.
Draped in Virmillion with a bass cleft for the deaf.
Ridin' a pale horse, on corse for the wreakoning
with one ear to the ground listening for the beakoning.
Working for an era undefined by genre
with no more guerrilla emcees who belong in Rowanda.
Deportees, statistics, fear of minorities.
We will crawl from the gutters and make underground the majority.
We will climb to the top and proclaim,
"Hip Hop is a culture! Its more than a name!"

[CaptinPickAxe]

Label

You can label me unreliable
My essence on cable, the force undeniable.
who let the elephant from the stable? bias never makes a source viable.
Call me intagable, cause I'm too much to grasp.
I'll call you brutal like Hannibal, but lackadazical from the grass.
How long can I last with out Soundscam raping me up the ass?
52 minutes and counting but I'm brain dead from the nerve gas.
Drop the science like a beaker.
ears bleeding from freakin' the speakers for 20 hours straight like I'm a ****in' tweaker.
I'm sitting on a needle's point here, so call this a balancing act.
Or the end of my career because of the statements I refuse to retract.
Call me addictive like crack, but subtle like the sound of hope dying.
Lettin' loose a smack when I hit the pavement after 30 stories of Swan Divin'.
Call me bitter, call me sweet, I'll call it ironic.
Playin' babysitter for a movement thats hard to grasp like electronics.
Call me timeless like Aesop's fables.
I've been called so many things that I've abandoned labels....

[Vash]

:cool:

[cerebus]

Dry wind blows
Through blooming lotus's
Ears.
Dust.

[CaptinPickAxe]

Chase where you at?

[CaptinPickAxe]

Narcolypse

Scattered thoughts and random dazing.
Its gettin' hard to tell what's real and whats a daydream.
Drunk from little sleep the whole day is hazy.
apiphonies that maybe I'm caving...
Or Craving, my senses are such a mess.
energy I'm saving for the people I must address.
attitudes are scathing, it's annoying I confess.
face down while I'm bathing trying to wash away the stress.

Insomnia...
Its a ***** when your workin'.
Insomnia...
I got a glitch that's for certain.
Insomnia plagues all shapes and size, no matter what walk of life, you might just short circuit.
Its insomnia...

Its staying up to watch that extra episode
of 'Married with Children' in your underware eatin' jello.
Can seem to sleep even though your mellow.
**** near comatose strangely poetic like Othello.
You can shake spears for years, be haunted by your fears, awaken in tears, or wrap a pillow over your ears.
You'll still lay awake wondering what in God's sake you can do to get your mind clear because daybreak is near.
Teasing you with drifts, drivin' when your mind slips,
a small glimps of beer and girls with big tits
a little taste of heaven or where God sits,
but you're abruptly pulled back when your car begins to flip.

Insomnia...
Time seems to fly when your counting sheep.
Insomnia...
Thinkin' your gonna die due to a complete lack of sleep.
Insomnia happens to the best of 'em, but still enjoys the rest of 'em who beg for the an hour of deep.............................................. ................................
.................................................. .....................................
*snore*.....................*drool*

[Shadow Skill]

I got so much Ice BLAH BLAH BLAH
Look at the price BLAH BLAH BLAH
a lot of mc's give the same week speech
about how big they rims is
how much the crib is
how much doe they get
how many Hoes they get
these cats seem to forget
what a hungry mc is
the type of dude that' ll battle crews
not for a check..
just for the love and respect
of the thang we all call
HIP HOP.

[CaptinPickAxe]

Stop the press! Hip hop no longer just black!
But still I can't walk the block without catching flack!
callin' me confused, when that really explains you.
stuck in '85 so I guess there's no use.
But, uh, really and truely you musta lost your brains.
There are cats spittin' in Japan, India, and Spain.
It's really more of a culture than a brand of music.
some cats are ledgends in it, others abused it.
Its a place to make a name for yourself.
Make slang like sick, and I'm not talkin' bout your health.
Or it can be a drug and change who you are.
Blinded by illusions of *****, money, and fast cars.
You can die by it... Live in the sky by it.
Or end up in the gutter, broke just by trying it.
Hip Hop is fickle to those who are hobbyists,
but loyal to the true, to whom it is obvious.
It shows in thier walk, the essence of their being.
blessed with 20/20 sight so the path can be seen.
Not feeling righteous, but more like a soothsayer.
You're a storyteller, prophet, a wordslayer.
Linguistics, the weapon. A meaning? The question.
An emcee for life...spittin' on my deathbed.

[SevenStar]

RIP

when I'm alone in my room I sit in deep thought
reminiscin of my potna who got shot
I look at our life and see that it's a shame
just anotha young brotha caught up in the game
he was standin in the wrong place at the wrong time
two to the head, one to the chest, now he's dyin
rushed to the infirmary, one lung collapsed
****, now he's just a memory in this rap
but my boy was strong, he lasted for a week and a half
before he flatlined and travelled heaven's path
but the part of this that really gets me
his killa only got 5 years and he was set free
a tooth for a tooth
an eye for an eye
I wanna get him in a cage and beat him till he die
look him in the eyes and ask him why he shot my man
punk you ain't sh!t without that gun in ya hand
he had my back and I always had his
now he's forgotten by the world, see how ****ed up that is?
but this punk ass b!tch is still runnin the streets
thinkin he's tough sh!t cuz he's carryin heat
got off scott free - and this is the judicial system?
my boy is dead and basically the system dissed em
fvck the system
fvck the courts
sweet revenge'll be mine
fvck his family
fvck his life
I hope he ends up in pine
fvck these lines
cuz now I'm ramblin...

[Starchaser107]

The Secret (skit ) by Mizri
______________


Welcome to the stew another family feud
This ain’t Soul Food this is drama for your prime time news
This is awful its lawless don’t glamorize this
For the history books for the kids to memorize this
So evil you shiver and spine twists
Take this to the river Yo! You’ve got to baptize this
Put it in a box never let it out
Put a tape on your mouth never let the secret out
I like Chinese food.

[Starchaser107]

She came through like a butterfly
wearing a white teddy
"are you ready
for meatballs and spaghetti?"

[doug maverick]

i'm new at this form of poetry,
whitch is more akin to flowetry,
mind bending and twisting ryhmes,
poets commiting lyrical crimes,
so i sit and write this new form of writing,
hoping to flow with it, get it right and tight,

so i type those words, those words
that make someone laugh or cry,
someone live or die, those immortal words,
but do we hear them do we listen, watch for the way that these words glisten, off of our minds, the world is coming to and end i think we all missed the signs.
i never tried this, i never tried this, pass the pen cause i never tried this.

[CaptinPickAxe]

It's Ironic to think that the worst weather in the history of the city
Could create such a beautiful night.
The once rain drenched, gloomy streets now glow like a neon highway with the reflection of signs and lanterns that swing from vendors carts.
Funny, all were inside watching TV or the radio worring about the future of the thier city.
Now all are enjoying the cool calm of a storm past.
Floating down a river of light and color, moving at the pace of life.
The silence now shattered by different dialects booming from a core,
raging with cabin fever.
The stores now open.
The Noodle stands now steam, releasing the aroma of sustinece.
It begs the question,
"Silence or the roar of life?"

[bodhitree]

Acheived something never
I always find/ become my own detriment


wandering through life looking around, succuess always just out of reach just out of sight , grasp.

I can steal , try , put forth great effort , only catastrophy in not obtaining.
End of the old..........



I don't know the how or the why
The tides have turned the world has realigned the heavends have changed the ridgid policy that has plagued consumed and grabbed me...
now every day the ecstacy, everyday content , everyday the things that seemed so impossible are in my reach, in my site , in my hand.
Do I deserve it? Is it just how things are?
I want to hold on to it all, I know the fortune I have now from the misfortune of before, I know in life difficult circumstances are inevitable however I must grip and grip with claws all that has come my way. I must let those who have graced my life with there presence that I appreciate it,


I must do all I can not to go back to the old.....

[Starchaser107]

Yo Jane stop this crazy thing, yo king stop wearing that crazy bling and wake up your lazy kin, passing away thier days again, in a haze of mary jane , I hear voices on the radio trying to query queery men playing fairy games. Is this real or is it relevant I think of the word elephant but get side track as my mind flies back to bennigans resturant, a cute waitress possibly on the late shift. I ate with the people I came with. I'm writing this but really I'm typing this , on a computer keyboard on a tropical island a few miles from the seashore.a beautiful place that has tasted hate and been tainted by sin and the evil Jinne the murder rate escalates, people migrate , this land was once run and operated by pirates , i probably still is to this date.

[mickey]

2000 and 1

Soft apertures meeting, docking
Allowing for soft pink pulsations to meet
Swirling, sliding, pushing, teasing
forever pleasing, oh, forever pleasing
Unlocking, ever so briefly
To allow for that unconscious ahhhh to take place
CAN YOU SEE US HAL? CAN YOU SEE US?
YOU UPTIGHT FREAK!!!

mickey

[Vash]

And Over the Dusty Hill,
The Sun Does Shine.

And over the Dusty Hill,
The Sun does Still Shine.

And over that Dusty Hill,
The Wind blows,
Dry and Hot, Pushing tired sand
Across the World.

And over that Dusty Hill,
You must Still Walk; sun-bleached and beaten-down.

And over that Dusty Hill,
They Will Come, They Will come for You.

And over that Dusty Hill,
When they do come,
When it is for You,
You must not go easy.

You must give no Inch,
No Quarter. None.

And over that Dusty Hill
You must drag,
Forcing every Mile
to be yours, fully.

And over that Dusty Hill,
You must Still Walk,
Even until it's over,
and After That; then some.

And over that Dusty Hill,
The Sun does Still Shine.

And over that Dusty Hill,
It will Shine Forever.

And Over that Dusty Hill,
There is no future,
Just the dusty day.
Just the dusty now.

The Sun is Shining,
Even Today.

[Vash]

I'm not very good at poetry. I've always preferred the freedom of short stories.

If there aren't any objections, I'll post some of them this weekend.

[CaptinPickAxe]

DO IT!!!

[Vash]

The next few posts will be short stories I did for my high school news paper. However, they will not appear as they did in said publications - they will be unedited. Furthermore, I have two chapters which never appeared in said publication due to the last published story containing guns. Good thing I was stopped there, cuz there were allusions to violence later on.

As of today, the series remains unfinished. However, it was one of the most fun things I've written, and plan to collect it, along with a few other short story series I have, and try to get them sold as a collection.

I've been published in three collegiate magazines, and once in a professional fiction magazine. However, the said professional release will ne'er see the light of day, as I received two letters in one day: the first, congratulating me on being published in the upcoming issue, and the second, and apology that the magazine had been purchased and it did not fit in with the type of things the new company put out.

And please remember, i wrote these stories about 4 or 5 years ago, so they don't really reflect where I'm at.

I'm much, much worse now.

[Vash]

Matthew stepped into the elevator, turned briskly on his heels and hit the button marked “TL”. The men at the desk said to go to the 14th floor, then the stairs, but that would take two minutes more than just going straight. And, from experience, he knew the bosses liked the punctual. They always did.

There was a slight jolt as the elevator started its long upward climb, then a slight humming. Slowly (everything moved slow when you where in a hurry) the red numbers clocked off the floors. Aside from these, nothing was happening. Not even Muzac.

After a while the elevator coasted to a stop, the bell rang, the doors rumbled open. Matthew looked down, adjusted his tie, and stepped out. When he looked up, there was a rather tall man pointing a rather long gun at his head.

"Matthew Dunn? Right this way.”

[Vash]

“Just one minute, Mr. Dunn.”

The associate who had conducted Matthew to this large office stood, or rather leaned, beside the door. Under his dark red suit Matthew could see the bulge of the gun with which he had been greeted.

“Name’s Kevin.” The associate smiled at Matthew. “Mr. Henry should be in shortly.” Then he turned towards the door.

Immediately, the door swung open and a man just a bit shorter than Kevin walked through and sat behind the large oak desk.

“Mr. Dunn.” The man who was presumably Mr. Henry said. “What position are you seeking?”

[Vash]

Kevin looked down at his watch, even though he knew exactly how long he had been standing by the door. “Three hours,” he said to no one.

At the desk both Mr. Dunn and Mr. Henry looked over stacks of papers while they talked about the task with which Mr. Dunn would soon be bridled.

“Boss,” Kevin said, “your four o’clock . . .”

“I know.” Mr. Henry did not take his eyes from Mr. Dunn. He stood and shook Mr. Dunn’s hand. “Thank you, sir. We will be in touch.”

Mr. Dunn nodded and began to collect his things as Mr. Henry and Kevin exited.

[Vash]

Matthew walked out of the office, shut the door and stopped. “Kevin.” He said cordially.

“Mr. Dunn,” Kevin responded. He was leaned against the wall, staring at the elevator.

“Any particular reason why –“

”Don’t cross Mr. Henry,” Kevin interrupted. “But, if you think you should, do it carefully. He is not someone you want to *****foot around with. Neither are his associates.” Though Matthew did not look at him, he knew Kevin was smiling.

“Of course he isn’t. And I wouldn’t think he would surround himself with anything less than perfection.”

Kevin did not respond. Instead, he walked to the elevator, pushed the up button and disappeared behind the doors. He did not look back at Matthew.

[Vash]

“Ti-i-i-ime is on my side,” Matthew sang as he unclipped his tie.

“Yes it is!” He looked into the washroom mirror to be sure everything looked nice and tidy.

“I say ti-i-i-ime is on my side.” Matthew unbuttoned his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves over his elbows. After he was sure they were in line, he bent over and rolled his pant legs up to reveal a silver plated nine-millimeter strapped to each ankle. He undid the holster for each and laid the weapons back to back on the counter.

“My friend, time is on my side,” Matthew firmly buckled his custom-fitted holster to the back of his belt and carefully dropped his guns in.

“All done?” Matthew looked over himself carefully; everything had to be perfect, or he would not be.

As he walked out of the restroom, he lay a dollar on the counter.

[Vash]

Matthew walked softly down the hall. It was too quiet. He didn’t like it. He naturally wanted to call out, to see where Kevin and Mr. Henry were. But he didn’t. So he kept walking.

Matthew spun. Noise was coming from the elevator. It was coming down. Matthew carefully unholstered his twin weapons and aimed at the doors, waiting for Kevin to come through.

But he didn’t.

The elevator continued trundling down. It didn’t stop. Still, Matthew smiled. He pulled back the hammers on his guns and turned around. Kevin held his single long-barreled custom at Matthew. He was also smiling.

“Hi,” Matthew said.

“Hi,” Kevin responded.

Neither man moved.

[Vash]

Spent cartridges hit the floor as Kevin slipped another sixlet into his revolver. The door was coming up fast. Without breaking stride, Kevin brought his left side forward and up as he shouldered the door out of the way. He kept running.

Fifty-five, he thought.

Kevin hit the stairs. Three flights were covered in thirteen seconds.

He made Mr. Henry’s office and stopped.

“In a hurry?” Mr. Henry asked.

“Yes.”

“Mr. Dunn?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Kevin nodded and walked to Mr. Henry’s desk.

“How many?”

Kevin looked back at the door. His gun’s hammer clicked into place.

“Fifty-six.”

[Vash]

Things were going nowhere at an extremely fast pace. For the past five and one-half minutes, both Mr. Henry and Kevin had been staring down a barrel of Matthew Dunn’s silver weapons. No one moved, no one talked.

“Mr. Dunn,” Mr. Henry said.

“Mr. Henry,” Matthew said.

“I suppose now would not be the most opportune time to inform you of the rather large weapon which is now aimed at your stomach.”

“Actually, Kevin’s gun is at my – oh.” Matthew seemed surprised. His eyes shot to the lip of the desk and the dark glint of metal underneath.

Seventeen single rounds and two shotgun cartridges went off in the next four seconds.

[Vash]

Kevin was bent across Mr. Henry’s desk, clenching the bloody hole in his left arm. He was out of breath. Matthew was sweating, panting, but apparently without any extra holes. Mr. Henry, though, hadn’t gotten away so lucky. Two sizeable and dark holes filled the places his eyes had been. His hand was still on the shotgun.

“Bad day for him,” Matthew gestured at Mr. Henry with his gun.

“Bad day all around,” Kevin retorted.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“Gimme a reason, Matthew. It’s been years.”

“I told you I was coming back. Just took a little longer than I’d planned.”

“Well, gut shots don’t just go away overnight.”

“No, they don’t.” Matthew holstered his guns.

Kevin took aim.

[CaptinPickAxe]

Respect earned and wasted on forbidden fruits I've tasted.
Spent funds on guns so my household can't be propagated.
I've been well, pulled on piggy bank tails.
Insured the drawbacks just in case it fails.
skin turns to lizard scales then evolves to plate mail.
only to return to the fleshy substance it used to be.
an 'X' marks the spot, shotin' darts towards the heart.
aimin' for the gist of it, but still stabbin' in the dark.
An intellectual ****, a momentary relapse in intellegence.
Like the government's tools, a house of deligates.
Modern day neanderthals with one goal: green
Payin' off humanity so the have excuses to be obscene.
When they were raised on the same block....
When they were raised on the same block...

Cause, the record won't spin itself, it waits for the pull back.
It'll waste itself findin' inspiration through a full sack.
Burnin' incense. listen to the sounds the earth makes as it turns.
I'm lightin' both ends cause I lack the patience for a slow burn.