SLAM FINALS: Judges

Discussion in 'Writer's Block' started by UFO the Phoenix, Jun 11, 2005.

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  1. Johnnie French

    Johnnie French Voodooradio.podomatic.com

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    Do note Bhi would that girl is around alot when she's not trying to get with midget soccer coaches... :p
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  2. Bhitiah

    Bhitiah Powerful Scriptures

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    I wasnt talking about the two comments made in here, but think about there have been what...3 other rounds and each time those rounds came up for vote I had hella IM's and people telling me to hurry up and vote when I still had a few DAYS. How would you feel if someone was harrassin you every 10 minutes to post your damn poem??? .... I been consistant, I've stayed consistant. I been here every single time and It just gets on my damn nerves. I dont like being told what to do, is what it comes down too...lol....I'm stubborn as hell.

    But, Looky here...I'm ready to vote.

    HOWEVER, I think I should point out for all the other judges that seem to be setting up to no-show....I got told by UFO that the last day to vote was MONDAY. not BY monday. So take that into consideration before you start throwing fits about none of the other judges showing up. However, If they do no-show....Fuck em...


    RealMS....

    I think you had a unique approach with your peice girl. The begining was off the hook too, I could say alot more about it but I'm not going too because I'm annoyed right now... So, You get a 7.5

    Absolute Zero

    There were two parts in your poem that I really liked ..." Have you noticed the way tear drops dance down her cheek when she sighs" that was awesome. AND "I once believed in dreams; but reality is an akward stone that never burns." that too was great. But, I guess it was too hard for me too get into ...I dont know.... But, It wasnt bad - 6

    Poetickz -

    I dont know man...I didnt really like the opening it just didnt capture my attention. I mean, I guess all the good things a poem needs was there but it just wasnt getting that ...damn, response out of me.... 5.5

    Nislanif-

    Dude....I agree with Janitor when he said that this was probably the best peice he has ever read on here...It was kind of long, but it didnt get that..."man this is long" feeling when I was reading it....But looking at it I must admit I was kind of irritated I had to read all of it. But I was like Damn, and read it...and then I was like...DAMN...and read it again....Great poem. Do you Slam in real life? - 9

    Rikoshay-

    To be honest, One part in your poem almost ruined it for me. lol...but it was MY bad. When you said "my thoughts are too deep to dive" or something like that....I was like, Your not supposed to dive in the shallow water, but then I understood and I'm okay now. I liked your poem, but I think you could have done better...I guess that's not really for me to say but I dont really care. -6.5

    Johnnie French-

    Finally a chance to respond to your poem. I was going to reply to it in the realm but I figured that wouldnt be fair to the other poets in here or someone might get pissed off so I didnt. BUT...I liked YOUR approach to the topic the most, Man I really enjoyed this shit. Just wow....... If I had to pick between you and nislanif to be the winner of this shit, I think I'd have a heart attack before I came to a decision. -9
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  3. Let me start by saying that this was very hard to jdge these poems as they were all very good and I don't like judging poems in relation to other as better or worse as I feel they all rightly stand alone as pieces of art worthy of being listened to and read for what they are. Having said that, UFO is quite a persisitant fella so I am here to try and read these poems and judge them in accordance with the enjoyment which they give and also the dreamlike qualities which I can feel throughout them.

    Almost is Incomplete

    She’s free-falling uncontrollably into a quest where
    Neither may end.
    She has met reality, walking with new torn
    Realistic shoes
    Ever since the mediocre number became
    Another year of life;
    In her eyes the myth has been broken
    Years after she could finally open up her eyes…

    (XIII)



    I’ve been trying to write about this for some time,
    But to begin writing the completed phase was just halfway pursued.
    I knew what dreams were from experience-the least;
    I needed to know
    To feel
    To see-taste
    What was perhaps opposite…what is real.
    Even if that meant I didn’t want to.
    Often is it misconstrued, the two
    I believe a deeper thinking will pull one through
    And understand an already developed concept.
    I only hope to you my poetry makes some logical sense

    This is a poem my poem-what seems like herstory.

    And regardless of such age a simple dream may still affect one’s brain wave, excessively
    A cold sweat, or awakened afraid
    Afraid of the motive behind a feeling that does not cry tears of joy.
    I’ve felt all and many more.

    But the greatest dream I have had
    Is the one where dreams and reality formed a clash.
    Someplace along meaning I’m not relaxed being on both sides,
    I’ve wanted to write about this for sometime,
    This is the one dream
    I have yet to actually feel.
    So therefore my story is merely a rough draft.


    This poem showed many different phases of growing up and changing and realization through dreams and reality. The title in this sense was very apt as it made the uncertainty and elusive effect of dreams apparent. I like the protagonist of the poem, and hows he merged into first person, another feeling of herself being captured by the dream and then sunken into reality. I enjoy reading RealmS poems and this is no exception. They are always intricately linked to the inner workings of her mind and her emotions are always important in her pieces.I liked how this poem was humble, it said to me: ' I am here, living and becoming, this may be a rough draft but I am on my way'. This was a very good piece to grace the final with and I believe this deserves no less than a 7.5 out of 10.

    Bless the Burning Oracle, Fireside

    Two nights I've spent praying
    To a tunnel for light.
    And as the moon grew,
    I faded as does sand into waters deep,
    When crescent Summers bend as promises Keep.
    Who could look into bluer eyes,
    And beg for 2 minutes to weep?
    Have you noticed
    The way
    Teardrops Dance
    Down her cheek
    When she sighs?
    Two nights I've spent prying.
    Caressing the crevices for shelter,
    And leaving my near future, submissive,
    Whispering, "Nothing has changed at all."
    I once believed in dreams;
    But reality is an awkward stone
    That never burns.

    Sister society lays in her grave
    And turns, turns, turns....


    There is a vivid restlesness about Absolute Zero's poem yet there is such vivid imagery to counter the rougher edges of the poem. The water amassed imagery in the poem really capured the sadness and beauty of the woman and the night. I really enjoyed reading this poem, it flowed nicely and their was beauty in the longing for the light, reality in ths burning of the stone and the personfication of society at the end. The poem really captured the restlessness which could be related to dreams and this poem to me felt close to the theme to be written about. For this reason I give this poem a 8.5 out of 10. Very nicely Written.

    Title: The Modern Day Underground Railroad

    sittin on a greyhound goin northbound
    recalling the memories of being held down
    sucked dry...someone benefits from my labor
    sure as hell aint me...better do myself a favor

    sittin on a greyhound goin northbound
    breakin free from my chains that for so long have detained me
    escaping the boundaries of parental slavery
    finally free from the abuse i received since a baby

    sittin on a greyhound goin northbound
    no longer will i be your neck to feed on
    a pawn for your petty source of income
    mile after mile i come closer to freedom

    sittin on a greyhound goin northbound
    im no longer afraid to defy my constraints
    and slap the long arm of my prison gaurd
    that keeps me locked within myself

    i move on...im no longer afraid
    no longer alone...starting from scratch
    with only the clothes on my back
    im ready to be free...only 5 days left...

    Im coming freedom

    I liked Poetikz poem for its steady rhythm which gave it a melodic feeling and its simplistic subtely, and repetitiveness which gave it heart. I imagined this as a song for growing and learning to get by, a song for establishing oneself and breaking free from restraint. I could relate this poem to dreams in the way that is perhaps escaped a nighmare of what was, however, I felt this was more a poem about the past and moving forward than about a dreamstate, however, I may have missed the metaphor and meaning you were trying to convey. I give this poem 7.5 out of 10 for a very good effort.
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  4. Thirty One Thousand Two Hundred Fifty Steps

    I saw an old man walking. He’d count his steps
    Fifty for each finger on the hand on his left
    That’s how he exercised, and learned not to think.
    When he confronts people he wished he’d learn not to stink.
    See, he’s homeless, forty two, looks sixty
    Walkin’ enough steps to his home when he’s six feet
    Above. He calls this exercise his progression.
    Sometimes, he calls it his own funeral procession.
    “No one walks with me, I’m every day by myself
    Yeah, I do it to exercise or run away from myself.”
    He sleeps at night, and all the thoughts he didn’t have
    Rage against his soul all alone in his nightmares
    Hates spending nights there, the park ain’t pretty
    It’s hard when the system has you lost in the city
    Homeless by forty and forgotten by fifty
    He knew through and through that was the life he was living.

    When his left hand is full, two hundred fifty steps,
    Each time, that equals one finger on his right.
    He whistles in the daylight, days bright, play right
    Paid like a playwright who has no pen.
    Last time he changed clothes, he wasn’t a day over
    41 years old, now he stands at 42.
    Old man with old shoes that no one else knew,
    He inherited the nightmares of the man who gave em to him.
    He lost the label to them, but he has mad soul
    That old man knows that all he has is walking
    Always fast when talkin’ to the one who isn’t there.
    But he really doesn’t care, he speaks to his ex-wife
    See, she left him ‘cause he drank too much, gave strife.
    Took away her life, so she took it right back
    He lost the kids and the house, like “you ain’t really want that”
    In a loop, when he tries to walk away, he’s right back

    Each time his right hand fills, he counts one toe.
    Closer to that last step, with one toe up.
    He was toe up, but his hunger and the sun stroke
    Gives him euphoria, plus he’s not thinking.
    He sleeps mumbling old stories to his dead kids
    Well, he hasn’t seen ‘em in years, they dead to him.
    He tried to be a father, recreating their dreams
    But his father never bothered and his step dad was mean.
    He doesn’t know a different way to raise a king
    Beat ‘em the same way he got beat as a teen.
    Just like him, he seemed to confuse the youngest.
    “Loved” him every night when he thought nobody saw.

    So to him, his life is over. His kids are getting older.
    The distant past of children are beaten out from the shoulder
    His youngest is seventeen, rediscovering himself.
    In West Hollywood, the old man counts his steps.
    Tormented by the thoughts of his day dreams
    Late screams, fake scenes of history
    Make fiends of derision
    Drugs made it easier to deal with past afflictions
    Until the drugs actually became the addiction
    Adding to the vice, now he thinks of his youngest
    Wishing he could die or…learn how to love?

    Each toe on the right foot equals one on the left.
    Each one left is sixty two fifty.
    So he sits alone and got to the last toe,
    Thirty thousand steps, only a few steps to go.
    Blisters on his feet and the feat of his loafers
    Notes of his own misfortune force tears
    No remorse for him aside from drugs he holds dear
    Whores of old cigarettes, acid trips and beer
    Sleeping pills, chills in the night with no fear
    A calm resides upon his face when the night nears
    No more disdain for hearings and court orders
    No more mourning for his kids, it’s all over
    But the old man is tired of living with no hope.
    He lays down for one last nightmare, never awoke…


    He dreams of when he needn’t worry what the toes meant.

    Death is the Dream of Thinking Freely without Torment…


    This was a very powerful depiction of how dreams can be reminders to people of things they wish to forget or change. This poem expressed a great deal of sensitivity to feeling. Also, rhyming couplets scattered throughout the poem kept up the rhythm of the piece, for example: Hates spending nights there, the park ain’t pretty It’s hard when the system has you lost in the city. This poem to me stood for broken dreams and the past unalterable past, the uncertain future. It expressed solitude and many moments seasoned in that feeling. This was a very edgy piece and I give this poem 8 out of 10 for showing a broken man, a broken dream, a little hope, and a stark reminder to all. Well done, Nislanif.

    I was dreaming when I wrote this.
    If it goes astray so goes it.
    You’re welcome to go with the flow if you so wish,
    just know this…
    it’s at your own risk.

    My dream is caught in a stream of thought cascading to notion.
    Pen gripped, hand shaking, impotent.
    Fantasia approaches, unheard.
    Weakly,
    I shape my sinking fears.
    Translating emotion to words,
    seeking…
    escape, succinct, sincere.
    Hand shaking, my focus is blurred,
    streaky.
    The paper drinks the tears
    my eyelashes toss in slow motion.
    I watch the tip of my pen playing “Keep Alive”
    as it crosses the ocean.
    My thoughts become too deep to dive.
    Now I’m lost in the moment
    Succumbing to the whimsy of the sleep deprived.
    My exhaustion is potent.

    I've barely written a word, the ink isn't dry.
    I think, if I try, it will all sink in.
    Contrived memories assembling on the brink of reprise.
    Too late, insidious inkling denied.
    Delinquent inside of the blink of an eye.
    Indistinct in demise.
    Like a firefly lost in the twinkling sky.

    Undaunted, I grin, for I have the staunchest of chins.
    Plus I know that, yet still, I am haunted with sin,
    and it won't be long till a twinge of grief intervenes and the gauntlet begins.
    With night advancing, my flight of fancy launches within.
    I'm merely a pawn of "The Wind" that I'm "Gone With".
    Convinced that the dawn is a myth,
    I take a leap of faith off of a cliff as a song of chagrin plays in the background.
    So much for facing the facts proud.
    Brace for impact now.
    Consciousness fades into black cloud.


    This poem gives the reader quite a rollercoaster ride. It mentions going with the flow at the start and the reader can't help but do that. The poem flowed very nicely and was very descriptive. This poem embodied a turbulent dream and was poetic, for example: Too late, insidious inkling denied.Delinquent inside of the blink of an eye In distinct in demise.Like a firefly lost in the twinkling sky. This poem reached many climbs and destinations and to me was very dreamlike in atmosphere, motion and mood. Very nice, RikoShay. 8.5 out of 10.
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  5. There she blows...

    Dreams…
    We’ve all had these… dreams…
    Do you dream of rapes and pillage of Genghis Kahn
    Dreams…
    What about Jewish individual suffocating…choking
    Crying out holding each other… dying… in mass
    Dreams…
    Have you dreamt the horror that is a nuclear bomb…
    Flesh melting off of Japanese faces…
    Burns to eyes, children born with defects…
    Dreams…
    Seen in them black men sold to white owners…
    Black women raped and whored out…
    Even a president had black children…
    Dreams…
    Tasted the Native Americans losing their food source…
    Buffalos ran off cliff…
    Trails of tears… diseases slowly eating away at their spirit…
    Dreams…
    Been scared in your dream like the holy war…
    Scared of a car bomb… who’s religion is right…
    Who’s land is this land… who deserves it…
    Dreams…
    Of discovering new lands…
    Stealing these peoples wealth and pride…
    Ravaging women, killing men, and taking children…
    Dreams…
    Losing your identity slowly…
    Our religion right…
    Yours wrong…
    Dreams…
    Searing pain of bullets tearing flesh…
    Massacres inside squares and red all over the ground…
    And the flag…
    Dreams…
    With you smiling only to be scared behind it…
    White hoods and torches burn and you smile…
    Snapping of the neck as you float carelessly in the air…
    Dreams…
    Yeah he might have had a dream… do you know where it came from?
    Do you dream of warm beaches and sex and girls and guys…
    Feel that warmth of the sun or smell of your favorite food…
    Dreams…
    I dream… of terrors and pains… real life witches, warlocks, demons, monsters…
    In my dreams I cry…
    Not tears of joy… not to be happy… I just cry…
    As you see me sitting on a pile of everyone who has died by violence…
    My tears will never reach the bottom…
    Dreams…


    This was a very scattered and vivid account of dreams, Johnnie French. I like the way you directly addressed the reader by asking them 'have you?' throughout the poem. You presented descriptions of the torment of dreams in quite a disturbing way. You showed the reader the darker side of dreams; Pieces of us which are in our conciousness when we dream yet we wish them to be gone, and perhaps that we had never dreamt them at all when we wake. The reptition of 'dreams...' throughout the poem, gave the it a somewhat atmospheric reminder to the reader and the second to last line was my favourite: 'My tears will never reach the bottom'. Very poetic. I give this 7.5 out of 10 for a good attempt.

    well done everyone, and good luck.
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  6. Johnnie French

    Johnnie French Voodooradio.podomatic.com

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    It's interesting I know there well barely time left if any... only two judges showed up on time? Not even the host? Tsk Tsk Tsk Oddie I must say I'm disappoint in the judges as a contestant with that amount of time even a half ass glance thru and vote would have been better now this shall drag on. Oi.
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  7. BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum

    BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum aka Billy Shoreview

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    Technically, I've won. However, 2 votes??!? Thats no contest. I'd rather win legitimately or not at all.
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  8. Bhitiah

    Bhitiah Powerful Scriptures

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    Well Nislanif, I could edit my post and give you a much lower score if you would like.

    This whole slam is fuckin retarded, The creator of it all bailed at last minute after riding my ass about making sure I'm here on time.

    This shit is hella retarded
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  9. Stands behind bhitiah and rubs her shoulders*

    calm down, luv.

    lol
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  10. BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum

    BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum aka Billy Shoreview

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    If Bhitiah wanna give me a lower score for no fuckin' reason, go ahead. I'll just save this page as is as evidence of my score. [dunno] I'm not commenting on the two judges who did vote, I'm commenting on the five who didn't. So if she wants to ADD herself to the ones acting "retarded", that's fine.
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  11. Bhitiah

    Bhitiah Powerful Scriptures

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    You standing there talking about winning illegitametly or whatever the fuck you spell that ...Two Judges who say you won, is still a winning score regardless if the other 5 fuckheads didnt vote. So If I say your ass won, and I'm the only one voting ...Then ya ass won, fair and square.

    And I'm not gonna ADD myself to the dumbasses who are acting retarded cause I been one of the only consistant ass judges during this whole ridiculous mockery of a poetry slam.

    I think you did a very nice job with both of your poems that you put out there, I think you deserve the win, regardless if anybody else votes.

    BUT, I think its BULLSHIT that you feel like your NOT REALLY winning if the others dont vote. I dont mean to say you dont have the RIGHT to feel like that, because you do.

    You have already won this slam. Some uncommited no-showin' ass judges didnt show up for the final round. This round is the most important round of the freaking slam and a grip of judges decided not to show up, including the man who set up this entire fuckin freak show.
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  12. Bhitiah

    Bhitiah Powerful Scriptures

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    I feel bad for everybody that put the time and effort into their peices only to get dissed like that...

    You all did a very nice job and deserve alot more then this, forreal.
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  13. Johnnie French

    Johnnie French Voodooradio.podomatic.com

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    ooooOOOOOoooo she's FIYAD UP
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  14. BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum

    BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum aka Billy Shoreview

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    This is like runnin' into olympic stadium after winning the marathon and only 2 people out of 200 thousand clappin' [funny]

    You feel like "damn, did I win this or am I last?"
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  15. Bhitiah

    Bhitiah Powerful Scriptures

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    What were you expecting to get out of this nislanif? National Recognition? This slam was just some dumb shit, It didnt mean much. You should really try and get your kicks from somewhere else if this is some kind of thrill for you and you need 200 thousand people to stand up and clap for you. I didnt know poetry was about that anyway...Do for self, Not for the world...

    This whole slam was put down poorly, It was half-broken from the time it started. It had a bad leader, bad judges, even bad contestants...But it wasnt shit.

    Dont invest so much in the internet if your sooooo upset about this...

    The only reason, I'm upset is because the effort that I put in to get my shit in on time and this motha fucka that worked on this slam, didnt even show up. The motha fucka that put it together, is off somewhere and gonna come back with some shit like, oh man im sorry, my pc broke or i got hella busy ....

    My ass is busy too, But I'm here, Nislanif is here, Johnnie French is here, RealMS was here and she's busy too...But Whatever. Let it be I guess.

    This shit was bunk ....

    If you feel like you were extremely let down by this shit, I'm sorry for you.

    I aint even upset about it, I knew this shit was gonna bust. But, I'm pissed off at UFO ...

    Dude is a punk forreal.
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  16. UFO the Phoenix

    UFO the Phoenix I DONT BELIEVE IN ALIENS!

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    I've been to busy to get around this

    I cant believe only 2 of my judges came through after I told them!?!?!?

    all that time

    naw I'm gonna find new judges and set this str8

    no due date....this ends when I get 7 judges

    sorry for the delay but the prize is worth it
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  17. Nimrod

    Nimrod Nimi Hendrix

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  18. BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum

    BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum aka Billy Shoreview

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    I didn't win shit because if a genius like bitiah gave me nine points, it must have sucked. I said 200 thousand people fill olympic stadiums, not that I need 200 thousand people to clap for me at slams (which I do, idiot)

    Stay off the drugs. It'll hurt the baby.
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  19. Bhitiah

    Bhitiah Powerful Scriptures

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    You have lost ya got damn mind Nislanif. Your the one needing the approval of a grip of judges to kiss your ass ...

    And UFO your hella lame, Your gonna let this whack shit drag the fuck on...I sure hope you dont count my votes then, cause this whole thing was gay from the get go. And everybody knows it but you apparently.

    And what the fuck are you talking about you cant believe only 2 of your judges showed up, and YOU didnt have time for this. You dumb fuck, Your a fuckin Judge too.

    And Nislanif you said that TWO out of 2 hundred thousand were clapping, Idiot.


    And the prize is not worth it, You think what some rep points and having your poem stickied is gonna get you what? internet dick riders? well have fun with that.
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  20. BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum

    BlackSoultan Ad Infinitum aka Billy Shoreview

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    Anyone got a muzzle for that bitch?
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