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Thread: SS Season 11 Finale: Black vs. Oatmeal

  1. #1
    steel cut oatmeal's Avatar
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    SS Season 11 Finale: Black vs. Oatmeal

    Deathwish nominated both verses independently as Legendary OMs, but it makes more sense to nominate them in their original context, which was a topical battle. So here they are.


    Quote Originally Posted by Mr. Black View Post
    ahem,

    every .. letter.



    What is it good for?


    yo,


    To shape a civilization - man vs. wild, the industrial
    turkey in a perfect little pile in your lunchable,
    highly combustable, clouds that narrow a windpipe
    soliders fight in tuxedos lined with heroin pinstripes -
    the American midnight - Rocket power, Reggie in dimebags
    Squids washed upon the riverbanks for chemical finance,
    intersectional bypass - blacktop, paint in a dotted line
    directs whiplashing cars filled with slaves to the dollar sign -
    we placed a trojan horse inside the basement of columbine,
    watched a murder crawl out and framed hatred for homicide.
    but hatred is authorized .. it's a volatile weapon,
    always changing it's structure, endless model selection:
    there's hostile aggression, bitterness, shame & regret ,
    isolation, neglect; or double barrel aimed at your neck -
    racism, tension, pent-up rage is repressed,
    and we wonder why the Middle East invaded the West ..
    Major, Lieutenant, Sargent, Captain, or King
    puppets captured in a web, the Black tarantula's string -
    the Sopranos will sing an ode to mafia ties,
    notes bloodthirsty enough to cause Gaddafi to rise.
    while our audience cries, it's time for curtains to fall
    9/11 was the first and last emergency call..
    begging God to grant serenity and mercy to all -
    alas, Berlin is not the only great, impervious wall.
    Our purpose is scrawled in constellational patterns,
    so fortune telling is the only occupation that matters..
    that tug-of-war that comes with conversational chatter,
    is what keeps the better part of populations in taverns.
    conservation, disaster - mirrored shadows on a carpeted floor
    war is art, art is beauty, beauty started the war.
    Death departed the morgue in search of Heavenly bliss,
    became a Livestrong band around Destiny's wrist.
    Marine Corpses camouflaged behind intestinal rips,
    signed their souls to the Devil & He let 'em enlist.
    while physicists are on a mission for dimensional shifts,
    we fight to capture back those precious seconds we missed..
    the future's bright, the past is glorified, the present's a bitch -
    in this war, the draft's a process we could never resist.

    take a second to listen - this aint an anthem for peace,
    broken eggs can make an omelet, Death can fashion a feast.
    Food for thought - war is more than troops attacking in fleets,
    cuz there's a battle beneath the North Face logo stamped to your fleece.
    we've mobilized an army of compassionate beasts,
    expressing hatred for their enemies with passive beliefs.
    the chasm is deep - our cycle seems deliciously wretched,
    sometimes ethics & survival hold a different perspective.

    it's pitiful trenches, dinner selections, first-string vs. secondaries
    WAR - they ask what is it good for?
    and I answer: absolutely .. necessary.




    “We make war that we may live in peace.”

    - Aristotle

    - Black


    vs.




    Quote Originally Posted by oatmeal View Post



    Thought Auditing


    I had this elaborate allegory combining science and art
    where I highlighted the spark between the mind and the heart
    I likened the brain to a desert - barren, wild and parched
    a regretful impression sunken under miles of starch
    to search across it is a process undeniably stark
    the thirst for knowledge is the cause for all its life to embark
    it was packed with brilliance, full of wisdom that I tried to impart
    perfect in every way...except being contrived from the start
    it was lively and smart, balancing light with the darkness
    I talked about how death can breathe new life in the market
    I even wrote a wordplay like: "I'm bullish on life stocks" (in the margins)
    topped off with theories from academic titans I hearkened
    but at the end it felt like I was just recycling garbage -
    it's good and all, but it'll never ripen for harvest
    I used to settle like, "don't sweat it, it's the plight of the artist"
    but the lesson of growth for a writer is most likely the hardest
    what I was writing was Carthage, a nihilist plot
    I had content and concepts neatly tied up in knots
    but the soul of the words was entirely lost
    so here I am, intent with every rhyme that I jot
    I want to capture the emotion of a cry in a thought
    and decipher the cost of all the lies I forgot
    I move to the tune of Siren songs, here’s the miles I’ve plotted
    with the tease that I’ve crossed, my third i MUST be dotted
    this desert is mine, let me saunter through my mind while I pause it
    cuz this itch for the pen proves that it's time for an audit...

    initializing audit

    life is hurry up and wait; you either feast or famine
    simply put: good things happen until they cease to happen
    some days she won’t show you shit except for pieces or fractions
    until she releases her sequins and strips free of her satin
    this mentality’s valid, but I find it breeds inaction:
    if the contract’s written backwards, why bother to read the captions?
    I’ve gone back to the Master and said “try offering equal rations”
    but He just mocks all my feats and passions so fuck it…
    in my mind I’m on a walk on a beach in Athens
    see I’ve got some issues with God, our most passive of masters
    and they’re magnified by the fact that my dad is a pastor
    meanwhile I’m hoping 2012 brings a massive disaster
    so I can have some validation that I actually matter
    if I get passed in the rapture, then what can you do
    till then I’m doubting everybody who’s discovered the Truth
    I got my father’s love but still I got something to prove
    if it was between me and God, I don’t know which one he would choose
    perhaps I’m dumb to give these thoughts so much space for entertaining
    I complain that life’s unfair, then I complain that I’m complaining
    I have this cruel desire to fuel the fire of hatred I’ve been saving
    and unleash it on the hypocrites…though I’m basically the same thing
    there’s something sacred and amazing in the mist of the rain
    a suspended reflection traveling an infinite plane
    I’ve driven fists into brains, wasted precious moments making bitches of saints
    now I got hands of stone, but fuck…I just wish I could paint

    this shit is the same for all of us, life is hopelessly stormy
    folks say “wait till you’re older” but they don’t need to warn me
    cuz I’m a jokeless romantic and I know that it’s corny
    but I still struggle to discern between lonely and horny
    this is the soul of my story, none of it’s makeshift
    inside I’m frowning, downtrodden—outside I’m numb from the facelift
    I host a garden of regrets where my lush mistakes sit
    like when I forfeited a lover with true talent for a slut with fake tits
    I try to escape this emptiness like the fool that I must be
    cuz I can’t stop hearing birds chirping pretty music and just…breathe
    one flash of a smile and I find myself stooping on one knee
    the same smile I have when I tell my students it’s cool to be drug free
    but now I’ve found love with a girl who is brutally ugly
    her eyes are slanted, legs bent, and she drools when she hugs me
    my down syndrome princess makes this existence feel unusually lucky—
    cuz there’s no question she tells the truth when she coos that she loves me...

    audit complete

    we’ve been through a lot now, you’ve had glance at my travels, stories
    but remember when we walked through my abandoned allegory?
    I said the mind was a desert through which we struggle to search
    it was ugly at first, but now it suddenly…works
    it’s a barren wasteland with no words for solace
    the only way to keep it alive is to thirst for knowledge
    you’ll have to wander through heartache to find a wealth of subtleties
    cuz the highest knowledge of all is that of self-discovery
    be patient for growth, eventually you’ll catch a break
    allow your mind to be a desert…let the negativity evaporate


    Quote Originally Posted by E.M. Forster
    How do I know what I think until I see what I say?
    Last edited by oatmeal; November 14th, 2011 at 04:17 AM

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  2. #2
    steel cut oatmeal's Avatar
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    Re: SS Season 11 Finale: Black vs. Oatmeal

    @God of War this got voted in, I believe

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  3. #3
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    Re: SS Season 11 Finale: Black vs. Oatmeal

    Quote Originally Posted by oatmeal View Post
    @God of War this got voted in, I believe
    i would hope so. sick battle. i have fond memories of that season. it was the first i competed in.
    infektedpenz


  4. #4
    BEST topical writer... Endeva.'s Avatar
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    Re: SS Season 11 Finale: Black vs. Oatmeal

    I say no...

    its good, but not legendary
    [youtube]99ns8n2S40g[/youtube]

  5. #5
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    Re: SS Season 11 Finale: Black vs. Oatmeal

    easily legendary.
    I only stop by to look through you.





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    Originally Posted by Baxter D. Wall
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    That green is too loud for my tastes.

  6. #6
    steel cut oatmeal's Avatar
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    Re: SS Season 11 Finale: Black vs. Oatmeal

    Lol DEV steady being salty. This was already voted in though, unanimously until DEV.

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