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Young Writers Society


Rhyme Battle



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Mon Aug 08, 2011 7:47 pm
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danipower0204 says...



So I don't know if such a thread already exists, but if it doesn't it's about time!

We all know the famous Haiku Battle thread, and I love it.
I myself love to go on a rhyming spree. So, this thread here will let you force your rhymes, because it's all about rhyming. (Remember, forced rhymes are not ideal in poetry) but here let your imagination of rhyming free.
Almost like a freestyle battle, but it's not really insult based. I'll start it off, if you want to follow.

I'm a sucker for rhymes schemes that flow,
I grow them on a branch in my head
and throw them into the world to be read,
relentlessly criticized,
and gently exorcised,
until they're perfect; no more, no less,
so I do not rest until my nest is filled
to the brim, and skilled to the end.
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Thu Aug 11, 2011 2:22 am
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Lumi says...



When Lumi busts a rhyme, all you poets are in tears;
it's like the rhyme-apocalypse is coming later next year.
All my words are totes sick, bro, so don't be alarmed
if you wake up with boils breaking out on your arms.

;)
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.
  





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Tue Aug 23, 2011 5:12 pm
danipower0204 says...



Rhymes wriggle when it's Dani to the Power,
Words wiggle when I shake your final hour,
Seize your skulls, it's gonna get surreal,
My words liquify your brains with their sex-appeal.
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Tue Sep 13, 2011 6:08 pm
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EtCetera says...



Give me a challenge to duel with the pen
And I'll make sure you don't stand again.
My words are limitless, my vocab unending,
So my place as Conquerer I'll be defending.
So bring all the heat and I'll disappear from your eyes,
Just to appear from above, streaking down from the skies.
Give me a word and I'll write you a song,
So there's no chance that you'll last long.
  





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Fri Sep 16, 2011 10:47 am
danipower0204 says...



Your words may be needles, but mine are knives,
Bullets shot down from the heavenly skies,
Don't be afraid when the Gods arise
to shove you into hell with burning cries.
As you try hard, I fly,
You hide beneath your covers that your mommy supplied,
I'm the monster in your closet prying in disguise,
You are the prey, praying, whilst I decide
which one of your limbs I will keep as a prize.
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Fri Sep 16, 2011 3:10 pm
EtCetera says...



Such monsters lack finesse, true grace
And rarely do much but roar in your face.
The shadows that shift are much more to fear,
Especially the Cloaked One with blade drawn so near.
My blade'll flash swiftly, but screams will be too late,
And the monster won't decide about its victim's fate.
So in the closet you stay, bleeding to death,
Until my final words pull out your last breath.
  





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Fri Sep 16, 2011 5:12 pm
danipower0204 says...



Shadow this Shadow that, you're just a piece of black,
I'm the luscious light that shines through your back,
Wait, let me tackle this metaphor so you can understand,
I'm the President, you're the failed shameful right hand man.
So don't be alarmed when my words come and daunt you,
My skills are prolific, don't be scared when they haunt you.
You're a wannabe poet, number two, a worn out suit,
I'm the father of Jesus, you just some more loot.
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Sat Sep 17, 2011 7:27 pm
EtCetera says...



Get this through your so-thick skull,
And make sure you aren't full of bull.
Light and dark are equal, the same.
When one takes, the other also gains.
But if you're a President, it still stands
That your still vulnerable to mortal hands.
Number two is defined by who comes in last,
And my words just fly far too fast
For someone like you to daunt or shame.
A scrawler like you could ne'er defile my name.
  





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Sun Sep 18, 2011 5:01 pm
danipower0204 says...



Your ears'll dry up as you listen to this,
'Cause my words are more than just a hit and miss,
they're the drought that'll rush through your blood and your veins,
they're too complex for your incompetent little brain,
I don't say this to brag, but you'll never beat my standard,
While my rhymes rule the world, yours have just meandered
into the realms of the Universe, drifted and forgotten,
My letters are the diamonds, yours ignominiously rotten.
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Sun Sep 18, 2011 8:28 pm
EtCetera says...



My blood seems to still flow,
So your words were just a show,
But I just thought you should know
That my vitality is far too deep
For a mere drought to simply defeat.
I ponder the Universe in my sleep
And it stands that while you may rule the earth,
With pen in hand I rule that of far greater worth.
Your "world" may's well be a firth
Compared to my mighty sea,
Your words defined and tidy
Mine wild and dangerous and free.
  





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Sun Sep 18, 2011 10:03 pm
danipower0204 says...



Your sentences have no structure,
Your rhymes corrupt, a rupture
in the English language,
for these thoughts that you brandish
make no sense, outlandish.
Now, buckle up, get ready,
It's about to get unsteady...

This is the part where you whip me with words,
Rip me and hit me with your "wild", "free" urge
and separate me from the conventional herd
that you've fallen victim to in your ludicrous world.
Oh wait, I forgot, you have metaphors to whirl,
My bad, similes are as far as you can hurl.
I regurgitate every time I read your rhymes,
I try to find time to envision your shine,
but lines that my niece could piece together
are all that you can puzzle.
Is this getting too complex, entangled
for your nozzle?
Let me simplify this matrix, write in your terms,
your words revolt your readers like rancid worms.
So you keep on writing little kindergarten poems,
whilst I play with big boys, but please, you show'em!
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Mon Sep 19, 2011 2:00 am
EtCetera says...



You speak of complexity and matrices,
Thinkin' you have a serious vocabulary.
I suppose you think 'matrix' is incredibly complex,
From some movie that left your small brain in a mess.
So you misunderstand, you poor, ignorant soul,
That a matrix is just numbers, and as whole
Very easy to solve when you have half a mind.
(Now listen real close so I don't leave you behind.)
You add the numbers up that are in the same place,
Inside the brackets, that small enclosed space.
The same still apply for the other functions, too.
(Dividing, multplying, subtracting, I list for you.)
So now if you thought matrices were so hard,
Go ahead and try one or ask for my card
So I can teach you some basic mathematics skills
Since you seem to make mountains out of molehills.
Forgive me for saying this, but you seem to be slow,
So maybe you should watch an educational show
To teach you the grammar that you seem to be lackin'
And definitions of words because you're really slacking.
But since I'm really on an unstoppable rant
I'll try to get your reeling mind to understand
That "et cetera" in most Latin-based texts
Means "and for all the rest, in other respects."
You can have all your petty, meaningless phrases,
But I have all the kind that run your mind through mazes
So run along now and play with your "big boys"
Though you're a dumb little kid with your plastic toys.
I'll go think about things that are more worth my time
Than reading your pathetic and senseless rhymes.
  





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Mon Sep 19, 2011 6:55 pm
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danipower0204 says...



You're a virgin poet, let me break through your hymen,
Words of wisdom are wanting in your pitiful whining.
The block of clay that you dare call a stanza
is no more than empty extravaganza.

Poetry is art, whether keyboard or pens,
It's the curious case of the human sense,
Like a brush that swivels pictures of minds,
Designs of the most celestial kinds.

I'm ashamed to be a poet with you in the mill,
Ashamed to be associated with such vacuous skill.
Card this card that, I'd rather see you try
Use some literary devices that don't make me sigh.

Et Cetera my friend, means "and the rest",
You make up words to suit your rhymes best.
Stop pushing so hard with your wannabe phrases,
focus on pulling the words out of their cages.

I'm even helping you to play this game,
Let alone play it against my name.
So don't accuse my mind of being passed through a shredder,
when it is you who needs the lesson, EtCetera.
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Mon Sep 19, 2011 9:27 pm
EtCetera says...



I am an artist to the core;
I understand what art means.
My point is, you illit'rate whore,
Is that I writethe best poetry in reams.

I have painted with body, tongue, hand, and pen;
I voice my true self through all of my art.
Don't venture to tell 'afore ye do ken,
That I don't have the true artist's heart.

My body is always flowing with rhythm,
From running to fighting to silently padding.
I have no bounds, true artist without schisms,
To win with these words to which I am adding.

Your rhythm's misplaced, everything's wrong,
Your words fail to flow from page to mouth.
Please promise me to never, ever write a song
Because the attempt would result in a rout.

My hand is deadly, armed with pen or not.
My tongue speaks and sings so clearly.
(Can you keep reading, or's your mind gone to rot?
'Cause the rampage ain't done, no not nearly.)

My works come inspired directly from heaven
And leave my soul singing after their done.
Their beauty will leave your shocked eyes engraven;
Celestiality even brighter than the sun.

I am in need of no lesson, as you can see,
For for a Teacher, I have the the best.
Unfortunately your words just can't compete,
So here's a wink and a nod from "All The Rest."
  





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Wed Sep 28, 2011 12:42 am
danipower0204 says...



Boats are nothing to ships,
So let me puff the steam
while you paddle your trips.
Let me shovel the pits
of wisdom and tricks,
seeing as you need a lesson
at perfecting your hits.

Your finger-flicks are weak,
and the words that you speak,
damp as the canopy's peak.
You gurgle a leak
that amounts to meek
literary heaps; you've shredded sails
in the language's fleet.

You punch with logic's fists,
but the skill that you miss
is the thrill of poetry,
the love and the bliss
of the art form's kiss.
So pucker up your lips
as I reminisce

my poetry sleight,
for I won't back down this fight.
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