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Old 12-17-2014, 05:40 PM   #1 (permalink)
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Default The Poetry Arena (Oriphiel's Collection?)

I've been looking through the "Song Writing, Lyrics and Poetry" forum, and it seems to be very dead. So I figured I may as well try to shake things up a bit. The purpose of this thread is simple: Two people will compete using poetry, whatever style of poetry they choose, with the goal of trying to out-wit or out-class the other. It's a friendly competition, of course, kind of similar to a Rap Battle. This thread is probably going to die penniless and alone, but such is the path of the artist!

So the rules are pretty simple. Each contestant takes turns posting poems asserting why they are better/smarter/stronger/prettier/etc. than their opponent. The match consists of four poems total, two from each contestant. Obviously this is all in good fun, so anything that breaks the rules of conduct won't be tolerated. And yes, you have to actually post poems, or else this thread will very quickly end up in the "Games, Lists, Jokes and Polls" sub-forum. After both contestants are done, the audience (us normal folk on the sidelines) choose a victor.

So... Any brave souls out there who'd like to give it a go?
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Old 12-17-2014, 06:59 PM   #2 (permalink)
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Where the dusty wind blows on lone cold journey home
Alone on a dark moonlit path to the mind
Insanity stirs up the broken heartache of life
While mine have yet die out...

Where food rests in the mouths of glut
So such sensational shows the snout of slut
And the harvest fields mid-day have rest
Minds are in unrest about the great Dane of machinery for Machine they must, and thus mustn't to the blue saddened balls of your own must.

For they shout his name Machine with oh so great pleasure and fussing about
The name of his squalor the cowardly peasant Orphiel they shake there heads in dismay and disgust
For the molded hands of unease have yet to please
While the strong hands of Machine pick you up, just to put you down.
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Old 12-18-2014, 04:55 AM   #3 (permalink)
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There once was a man named Machine,
Who wrote with a manner obscene,
He thought he was strong 'cause his poems were long,
when in truth they were pointless and mean!

Now with me, I stick to the point,
I know how to rock the joint,
without fancy words that none's ever heard.
With the truth, your mind I'll anoint.

Last edited by Oriphiel; 12-18-2014 at 07:42 AM. Reason: Typo!
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Old 12-18-2014, 08:10 PM   #4 (permalink)
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Oriphiel View Post
There once was a man named Machine,
Who wrote with a manner obscene,
He thought he was strong 'cause his poems were long,
when in truth they were pointless and mean!

Now with me, I stick to the point,
I know how to rock the joint,
without fancy words that none's ever heard.
With the truth, your mind I'll anoint.


Well done sir, well done.

Also skip me
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Old 12-18-2014, 08:31 PM   #5 (permalink)
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I... who do I attack now?
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Old 12-19-2014, 04:36 AM   #6 (permalink)
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Thanks for the match-of-minds, Machine!

DeadChannel, you can ask someone via PM if you want. Or I can have a match with you. I'll let you decide!
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Old 12-19-2014, 09:59 AM   #7 (permalink)
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The above poems too lengthy
Point is: what the ****
But brevity prevails
My poem: you suck
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Old 12-19-2014, 02:35 PM   #8 (permalink)
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Words are like friends;
the amount matters not.
What matters is the honesty
and love within the lot.

My words are like sharp arrows,
they cut through all your lies.
And though your argument seemed strong,
it falters and it dies.

Your words are not as useful,
they fail to press the attack,
My argument is like a Fender,
while yours is a First Act.
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Old 12-27-2014, 09:43 PM   #9 (permalink)
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My mind may be absent, and my body just as dead,
But I'll debate endlessly, no remorse,
Instead I'll shout at you until hoarse, coarse are the words,
No scheme to my attack, and I'll fall at the end of the sentence due to you,
Adieu.

(whoa, I wrote a thing)
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Old 12-28-2014, 01:04 PM   #10 (permalink)
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Of course you'll go on forever,
what never starts never ends.
If in life you have no point,
you'll never have amends.

Life is quite like sand,
to nothing and everything it lends.
I delved so deep in your petty endeavor,
that when I left I got the bends.
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