ACCUSATIONS at the general Poetic Masses hereabouts, TorF?

You do not Duel because...

you despise Mahayr.	4.2%	[ 1 ]
you despise someone else in here.	12.5%	[ 3 ]
you are, as accused, CHICKEN!	8.3%	[ 2 ]
it is beneath you, you are just that good. BUT too chicken to prove it.	0.0%	[ 0 ]
you have too much on your plate for lowly duels, and are CHICKEN!	4.2%	[ 1 ]
there is not enough to be gained, you are greedy.	25.0%	[ 6 ]
Other... post your own answer.	45.8%	[ 11 ]
Total Votes:			[ 24 ]

[The Love Mutt]

Awesome, waiting for crit.

BTW- Cafe, we don't post second draft until first set of crits is up.

[Mahayr]

Will edit tomorrow! Page one, that is.

[jillian truant]

The Love Mutt

Awesome, waiting for crit.

BTW- Cafe, we don't post second draft until first set of crits is up.

thennnn what I said is still true haha. :]

[Sin Apophis]

Now that I have both isis and Trysse's bets, I will judge!

[Sin Apophis]

Challenger: isis79
Defender: Trysse
Bet: 2k
Judge: Sin Apophis
Duel Type: Call-Out
Subject I prefer: Music and Nature
Form: Internal rhyme. Each line styled 12-15 syllables per line (iambic pentameter - optional)
Time limited - due by Tuesday, 2/24/09

Trysse

Jiminy and Chester Conduct an Orchestra

Fiddler, the strum of your strings is an homage to time
and temperature, a sublime symphony that molds the night air
into a metronome that flares with the beating of your heart.
Your solos are lonely--Do not part from your fellows and play
in fey auditoriums frequented only by the wild
creatures that can't appreciate the slow flow of mild song,

or the frenzied urgency inherent in a lively song
so long and with such rapid tempo, no one can keep time
or mime the rushing beat rising in a crescendo too wild
for styled stridulation, the chirp of leg and wing on the air.
Men, you're brave enough to bare your souls to the public and play
with no thought but to someday share the love in your heart.

You conduct your orchestra just beyond sight in the heart
of the night, the hour when the tide of your ardent song
is most needed. Always the strong musician, you play
as if the day has not set, as if the existence of time
is inconsequential when your buzzing notes climb the air.
Your riffs carry to immaculate homes a sense of the wild,

memories of an era without radios or wild
guiles, when only the solace of your music gave heart
to the inhabitants of places where apart filled the air;
where the expanse would have ensnared without the trill of your song.
Along the edge of the woods, where lightning bugs flash in time
with the chime of your notes, calling lovers to join them in play,

the darkness is less encumbering with each chord that you play.
There's something hidden in your chorus that betrays the wild
that hides in the depths of humanity, that child of time
that knows no crime but selfishness at the base of its heart.
How much wisdom can you impart with a single burst of song
that shudders like a throng of thistledown on the air?

There's nothing more terrifying than your silence, with an air
of dire portent. You're the last piece of fair luck left, so play
with a vivacity that's the bouquet of life in your song,
that states there's nothing wrong with the darkness or the wild.
Your notes claim that God smiled when he tuned the strings of your heart.
Be strong and continue to share your art in the dusky time:

With enough air and time still left for your symphony,
fill your heart with exuberance and play for your lovers.
Give them a wild song to rejoice the rest of their lives in.

Critique:

For this poem, I wasn’t sure how I felt. Toward the end I was bored and had to keep refocusing on the words and rereading stanzas. The one thing I’ll give you, though, is that with this style of poem, I often notice the repetition of the ending words (air, play, song, heart, etc.). Generally this bothers me, but there was something about how I read your poem that seemed to flow right past the constant repetition. I also enjoyed your in-depth characterization of the fiddler and the symphony. I had a very good eye for who the fiddler was and the emotions conducted in the symphony. Your last three line stanza is particularly strong, and concludes the poem in an overarching way.

isis79

The Spirit of Lost Virtue

I'm the spirit that circumvents your thoughts in clinging web-nests
of memory and consciousness. They connect, meandering
through geodesic constellations, and plummet into the
bitter corners of your inner universe. The pace that your
thoughts travel at, between space and reality is slow,
significantly losing their relevance to consciousness

of your being. Rather, thoughts that you repel in your consciousness
spiral endlessly at a fast pace, where they race past a nest
that's left with voids of wonder. Who am I? Where am I? Slowly,
these thoughts shadow the importance of all else, meandering
through parallels of thought in the microcosm that your
consciousness fails to ignore -- self-curious of the

imagination you wonder. Circles of confusion: the
thoughts you repel, revel and exist in your consciousness
as you seek self-pity. Control your thoughts in your
mind of wonder and lost virtue, and focus that nest
into cohesive thought. Listen to its song, meandering
its guidance through your mind in Fibonacci sequence, slowly -

thoroughly for your understanding. Merry-go-rounds slowly
resonate with songs of bells and chimes, tickling the
eardrum with a sense of morality. You meander
from thought to thought with silk laced confusion, consciously
unaware of the unbalanced realm you've created. Star-nests
normally connect each thought into cohesion. With your

mind shattered into silver dust, confusion clouds your
sense of balance and disjoints your mind into crackles, slowly
forming black holes that disrupt your mind's star-lines. The nest
that vibrates when you rest will balance each line in the
hopes that your cosmic thoughts will clear inside your consciousness
back into straight, unswerving lines that shine and meander

in your mind of echoing madness. The balance meanders
and connects new shine formations, restoring your
sense of self-significance as you slowly let your conscious
regain control of importance. Rest well, and slowly
realize the balanced clarity that circles the
center of your mind's former obscurity: a nest

that no longer meanders, but rests in your mind
of slow thought and clear consciousness. Your life has significance.
When in doubt, clear your mind and nestle into the night.

Critique

At first I was irritated, because I thought you completely dismissed the prompt. Once I read the poem again, I realized you’re actually being very clever. You’ve taken the themes of “nature” and “music” to another level, going beyond the literal to create a beautiful poem. Instead of writing about trees and butterflies and musical things, you used lines like “Listen to its song, meandering / its guidance through your mind in Fibonacci sequence, slowly” or “Rest well, and slowly / realize the balanced clarity that circles the / center of your mind's former obscurity: a nest”; these lines don’t necessarily scream nature, yet you use the themes as poetic devices to guide your heavily psychological poem. In a way, though, the theme of nature does scream through your use of scientific allusions, especially through means of space. Your use of imagery and diction also left me breathless, and your stanzas / lines are crafted skillfully.


After reading over both poems, I appoint isis79 the winner.

[Good Bean]

yay isis!

[The Love Mutt]

Quote:

Challenger name: Knight_of_chivalry - Page 19, Grounds.
Defender name: The Love Mutt (Clarice)
Type of Duel: Regular
Bet: 1K
Judge: Adimurti - ENGUARDE! posted.
Subject: Confidence
Style/Form I prefer: Free verse

I powder my boobs I powde- size 36C -
'cause they = so white (though I'm normally ohso
brown) 'n' I talk 'bout my vag
(it's singing your praises) 'cause it's empowerin'

Yell it out with me
Yell it ***PUSSIESUNITE***

'My v****a is a shell, a round pink tender
shell'
shell' shell' -says the girl to my right
Ain't it obvs that we love ourselves enough
Ain't it obvs that we love oursel(too much?)

Speakin' 'a' self-love-
My vmy vibe needs some Oomf. Wanna help me with
that? 'Cause you'n'me, we both so Fly

I wanna learn to fly, since my
EGO ain't quite carryin' me
up
upup
up up uaway

Guess I'll chill for now 'n' settle for
guess i'lmoanin':

moaning:c**tostclitvagtvag
moaning:combo c**t-vag
moaning:almostclitvagright-on
moaning:uninhibited militant bisex-
moaning:oh s**t

uninhibited militant bisex-'n' so on, so forth since
guess i'lyou ain't gettin' laid yourself
(sucks to be you).

But hey. Don't be hatin'-

not every v****a has the balls.

[The Love Mutt]

Quote:

Challenger name: caffine (Whoppers)
Defender name: The Love Mutt (Clarice)
Bet: 1K
Type of Duel: Double-Barrelled
Judge: Adimurti - ENGUARDE! posted.
Style/Form I prefer: Fire

Quote:

I'm sending my bet now. Didn't realize we already had the enguarde. Enguardes are supposed to come ONLY after everything has been accepted, clarified, and bets sent. I'm still waiting on Woop, or Adi even, to clarify my question about fire being a main metaphor or having to actually be about fire. Regardless, I have it ready unless told otherwise, so here goes:

Only YOU can prevent adolescent Burn-outs

Her body moves like a wildfire,
crashing sporadically, mesmerizing
hair flickering out in sparks
her cinders still burning you
eons later.

Later, Smokey's warnings still haunt
you, rubbing her back, the sounds of her
wretching and reek of the john

all that remains of her nightly
forest fire,
poorly extinguished

and today's chance of fire:

high.

[The Love Mutt]

Quote:

Challenger name: The Love Mutt (Clarice) - page 21, Grounds
Defender name: cafebrulot - page 21, Grounds
Duel Type: Double Barrel.
Bet: 3K
Judge: Adimurti - ENGUARDE! posted.
Subject I prefer: The Ocean.
Form: free verse or something loosely structured

Sin Apophis

Enguarde!

Challanger: cafebrulot
Defender: zero the last decepticon
Type of Duel: Regular
Bet: 6K
Judge: Sin Apophis
Subject: God, Technology; an intermingling of the two.



Note: I still need the bets from both parties, before I can judge. Thanks.

Quote:

Challenger Name: Mahayr.
Defender Name: Whoppers/Caffine.
Type of Duel: Call-Out
Bet: 1K.
Judge: Adimurti.
Subject I Prefer: Animal Love.
Form: Rhyming.
WINNER: Mahayr

Quote:

Challenger name: Zero
Defender name: isis79
Type of Duel: Call-Out
Bet: 15K
Judge: Sin Apophis - ENGUARDE! posted.
Subject I prefer: Haunted mansion.
Form: Freeverse, styled with a rhyme scheme. 10 syllables per line, 10 lines

Quote:

Challenger name: caffine (Whoppers)
Defender name: The Love Mutt (Clarice)- pg. 22
Bet: 1K
Type of Duel: Double-Barrelled
Judge: Adimurti - ENGUARDE! posted.
Subject: Fire
Form: anything (free verse, form, whatever)

Quote:

Challenger name: Knight_of_chivalry - Page 19, Grounds.
Defender name: The Love Mutt (Clarice) - Page 22, Grounds
Type of Duel: Regular
Bet: 1K
Judge: Adimurti - ENGUARDE! posted.
Subject: Confidence
Style/Form I prefer: Free verse

Quote:

Challanger Name: isis79 - Posted in the Grounds
Defender name: Trysse - Posted in teh Grounds
Type of Duel: Call-Out
Bet: 2K
Judge: Sin Apophis - ENGUARDE! posted.
Subject: Music and Nature
Form / Specifics: Internal rhyme. Each line styled 12-15 syllables per line (iambic pentameter - optional); Time limited - due by Tuesday, 2/24/09
WINNER:

Quote:

Defender: knight_of_chivalry
Challenger: Mahayr
bet: 5k or less.
Type of duel: Regular
Judge: Gambol - ENGUARDE! posted.
Style/Form I prefer: Rhymed, metered, alliteration, minimalistic.
Subject: Mystery
Not absurdism, there must be a real poem with real meaning... clear to you, the writer, but necessarily to any given reader. The title might provide a hint, of course.

[Adimurti]

Entries logged, and thanks for the bet, Lovie. whee

[Mahayr]

...and I think I have the edits correctly done.

[Zero is an Integer]

For my duel with Caf:


Master Blaster

I met God behind a dumpster in a Southside back alley,
screaming pagan magic makes the rack fall, earth sink,
time blink and coasting across the threshold of nth.
See, I can't quite put my finger on the reason, but
creator's dust musters patience for this treason.
It's Big Bang in a bottle, mass produced for the idiots
that slink around the pulpit wondering where all the time went.
This s**t is pertinent and relevant, so bag, tag and embellish it,
because for a thousand ******** years, I swear it's gonna be regret.
So we build Scions for synagogues, Jeeps for the people,
as they sing like the drowning little masses in the steeples.
Man, I need a new fire to light, when i see a bum Jesus
begging quarters for the plight.
I bet he drinks like a shark and swims in fear like a Hobo,
while smoking ten packs a day, moving in slow-mo.
They'll download his fading health to every i-Pod Nano,
singing songs by teen pop idols, and throwing real faith out the window.
I'm waiting for retribution in the form crushing earthquakes
that cover up the false-iron-idols we create.
The cities fall like panties drop in co-ed dorms
and people flee from wrath, divine, while seeking to reform.
The master of the universe now comes with parts, directions and recession,
as we gnaw apart this faded life like fat kids chew confections.
Sad but true and missing pieces; trick and treats resound.
Living in your text is nothing too profound.
I die in this chair, I s**t where I eat, my life is now complete,
so my deity takes me away from this place, tasting nothing but subtle defeat.

[Sin Apophis]

How exciting. smile

[Zero is an Integer]

Sin Apophis

How exciting. smile

Heh.

[Sin Apophis]

zero the last decepticon

Sin Apophis

How exciting. smile

Heh.

Was it even worth replying?