ATT SF: Writer 1 Vs Writer 4 - (Writer 1 Wins 3-0)

Writer 1 Vs Writer 4

This topical is part of the Anonymous Topical Tournament

Rules
Verses are due Tuesday, July 23rd.
Verses are to be sent to EtH via Private Message.
There are NO EXTENSIONS.
Verses must be 40-50 lines long.
Voting is 3-0 KO or First to 5.

Picture

Writer 1 Vs Writer 4

This topical is part of the Anonymous Topical Tournament

Rules
Verses are due Tuesday, July 23rd.
Verses are to be sent to EtH via Private Message.
There are NO EXTENSIONS.
Verses must be 40-50 lines long.
Voting is 3-0 KO or First to 5.

Picture

Writer 1

I do not know Mohammedeen

The image you hold of the street market scene
Shows the last place I know that my father was seen
On August 14th of 1983
It was taken two days after he said to me

“Rajan, my son, in my life I have learnt
That all melts to ash when one’s bridges are burnt
The silent man’s rage swells from whispers to sirens
His victimhood dies with a vengeance and violence.”

The words clouded the air until mother returned
Placed her change on the table, the wage that she’d earned
“Where is your Pappi? How long must we wait?
He’s been out of himself, ill-at-ease just of late.”

Seconds went to minutes to hours to days
Our fear moved from worried to angered to dazed
It wasn’t like Pappi to get up and leave
Then we waited so long Mutti started to grieve.

I showed pictures to strangers who withdrew in derision
Until one pointed up to a small television.
My father’s tired face shone out from the screen
As the writing said ‘Manhunt for Mohammedeen’.

The story showed deaths from a Jihadist plot
But the leader escaped – “But my father was not
Even of Muslim faith!” I angrily protested
Then suspicions were raised and I too was arrested.

I was beaten and questioned, the evidence shown
“Your father, it seems, was a man you’d not known.”
Pappi, quiet Pap, had a dark other life
We were just his Sikh cover, a son and a wife.

Mother wailed in shame that was tinged with denial
While ‘Mohammedeen’s’ brothers were sentenced to trial
“He is NOT Mohammedeen, he is NOT, it’s not true!
He is Rohinder Lall, and a Pappi to you!”

The desolation got no better
For weeks, and then I received a letter
Containing the photograph you see,
Anonymously sent to me.

He’s the white-shirted man on the picture’s top-right
His face the lone dark in a market of light
See the people’s faces, mostly locked into smiles
Yet the frown on my father’s face only beguiles.

I remember his words, like prologue to a mission
Yet his face is not showing Jihadist condition
His frown to me looks like he’s lost deep in thought
Like he’s thinking of lessons his long life has taught.

He said to me ‘rage swells from whispers to sirens’
That his victimhood ‘dies with a vengeance and violence’
I think back to his lap, sitting warm in his kindness
The manhunt goes on as I ponder in silence.

Vs

Writer 4







The Set Up

Phang was apart of the local gang, he’s a social stain that always a total pain
Game recognizes game, so Phang keeps that hopeful gain his boastful claim
Drained are the names of any lame that’s a vocal strain to his gloatful name
Phangs proposals claim that he’s mobile chain who seeks all the global fame
Life burns like Chernobyls flames, strife carries concerns from mofo Urkrains
Mad feeling so so, trained to see everything that brings any ho or foes frame
That’s why
Mr. Chans on that mission, Another crooks discription cuz Triads are to vicious
Chan keeps hold tradition, he looks suspicious, eyes sad & way to auspcisious
Damned & imprissoned, he stood in a malicious place where guys have wishes
The plans are still a vision to hook them like fishes, times about to be judicious
The Scams in place, pricision is booked, it’s time for dip shits to die like bitches
Black Dragon Clan rips shit like incisions, so misses never describe business
Times tickin
The Urkrains just walked slowly, one seems to look around to mock knowningly
Dhrakes half cocked and holding a peace openly, locked, stocked & heroically
The tame laugh, not knowing that war creeps boldy towards their shops coldly
Both gangs are trapped, the cops are patroling streets and will stop hopelessly
The exchange is mapped, both drops are supposedly to meet, it’s hot and toasty
Plans can change or collapse, squads are aproaching me but not knowing me
I’m a spy &
They don’t realize, I’m a spy from an organization ran like a corporate nation
Disguised as a guy that’s the shops subordinant asian, or unfortunate patient
I hide to elude enforcements detainment, I’m ready to incorporate operations
I’ve been tried as an ornament & assaillant, I’m trained to reinforce its relation
I seize time & dart towards their important containments & flee before invation
I survived with drugs & cash, an enormous escapment with more abatements
Than
Phang & Chans gang shot first, some Urkrains got caught and earthed properly
Urkrains came in and rampaged on any who remain hot or cursed as a mockery
Phang got shot, lamed by pure rage from Dhrake, Phang was served, shockingly
Bullets rain Chan started stocking creeps, unloaded pain to hurt G’s methodicaly
Remember game recognizes Game, so logically Police came to disburse ironically
Still they reign today, chronically killing any witness by their perversed philosphy
Who’s stopping me
So obviousy the police came up short on their property, stolen by me chomically
Because of our poverty my whole teams ornery & mean, we’ll defeat all flawlessly
Caustiously I made it back to my countries monarchy to display my clean robbery
Somberly I rest, ready for the next test, ready to bodily harm any teams monopoly
Our policies invest in our economy with no appolgies, we believe in our prophecy
Impossibly the best as a Colony of Vets, so modesty is just a dream of sovereignty
So Wannabe’s
Like Phang, Chu Chan and Dhrake were dismembered, shamed as obscure fakes
The Black Dragon Clan surrendered their fate, when they planned with the Urkrains
Dhrake double crossed Chan, the Police doubled crossed Dhrake with a damn raid
They didn’t remember plans with Dhrake, tempered with all the mistakes Chan made
Phang was a damn snake, he double crossed me and tride to take, scram and shake
Our plans were to keep sake our commands, follow through & make 900 grand, CAKE

Writer 1

I do not know Mohammedeen

The image you hold of the street market scene
Shows the last place I know that my father was seen
On August 14th of 1983
It was taken two days after he said to me

“Rajan, my son, in my life I have learnt
That all melts to ash when one’s bridges are burnt
The silent man’s rage swells from whispers to sirens
His victimhood dies with a vengeance and violence.”

The words clouded the air until mother returned
Placed her change on the table, the wage that she’d earned
“Where is your Pappi? How long must we wait?
He’s been out of himself, ill-at-ease just of late.”

Seconds went to minutes to hours to days
Our fear moved from worried to angered to dazed
It wasn’t like Pappi to get up and leave
Then we waited so long Mutti started to grieve.

I showed pictures to strangers who withdrew in derision
Until one pointed up to a small television.
My father’s tired face shone out from the screen
As the writing said ‘Manhunt for Mohammedeen’.

The story showed deaths from a Jihadist plot
But the leader escaped – “But my father was not
Even of Muslim faith!” I angrily protested
Then suspicions were raised and I too was arrested.

I was beaten and questioned, the evidence shown
“Your father, it seems, was a man you’d not known.”
Pappi, quiet Pap, had a dark other life
We were just his Sikh cover, a son and a wife.

Mother wailed in shame that was tinged with denial
While ‘Mohammedeen’s’ brothers were sentenced to trial
“He is NOT Mohammedeen, he is NOT, it’s not true!
He is Rohinder Lall, and a Pappi to you!”

The desolation got no better
For weeks, and then I received a letter
Containing the photograph you see,
Anonymously sent to me.

He’s the white-shirted man on the picture’s top-right
His face the lone dark in a market of light
See the people’s faces, mostly locked into smiles
Yet the frown on my father’s face only beguiles.

I remember his words, like prologue to a mission
Yet his face is not showing Jihadist condition
His frown to me looks like he’s lost deep in thought
Like he’s thinking of lessons his long life has taught.

He said to me ‘rage swells from whispers to sirens’
That his victimhood ‘dies with a vengeance and violence’
I think back to his lap, sitting warm in his kindness
The manhunt goes on as I ponder in silence.

Vs

Writer 4







The Set Up

Phang was apart of the local gang, he’s a social stain that always a total pain
Game recognizes game, so Phang keeps that hopeful gain his boastful claim
Drained are the names of any lame that’s a vocal strain to his gloatful name
Phangs proposals claim that he’s mobile chain who seeks all the global fame
Life burns like Chernobyls flames, strife carries concerns from mofo Urkrains
Mad feeling so so, trained to see everything that brings any ho or foes frame
That’s why
Mr. Chans on that mission, Another crooks discription cuz Triads are to vicious
Chan keeps hold tradition, he looks suspicious, eyes sad & way to auspcisious
Damned & imprissoned, he stood in a malicious place where guys have wishes
The plans are still a vision to hook them like fishes, times about to be judicious
The Scams in place, pricision is booked, it’s time for dip shits to die like bitches
Black Dragon Clan rips shit like incisions, so misses never describe business
Times tickin
The Urkrains just walked slowly, one seems to look around to mock knowningly
Dhrakes half cocked and holding a peace openly, locked, stocked & heroically
The tame laugh, not knowing that war creeps boldy towards their shops coldly
Both gangs are trapped, the cops are patroling streets and will stop hopelessly
The exchange is mapped, both drops are supposedly to meet, it’s hot and toasty
Plans can change or collapse, squads are aproaching me but not knowing me
I’m a spy &
They don’t realize, I’m a spy from an organization ran like a corporate nation
Disguised as a guy that’s the shops subordinant asian, or unfortunate patient
I hide to elude enforcements detainment, I’m ready to incorporate operations
I’ve been tried as an ornament & assaillant, I’m trained to reinforce its relation
I seize time & dart towards their important containments & flee before invation
I survived with drugs & cash, an enormous escapment with more abatements
Than
Phang & Chans gang shot first, some Urkrains got caught and earthed properly
Urkrains came in and rampaged on any who remain hot or cursed as a mockery
Phang got shot, lamed by pure rage from Dhrake, Phang was served, shockingly
Bullets rain Chan started stocking creeps, unloaded pain to hurt G’s methodicaly
Remember game recognizes Game, so logically Police came to disburse ironically
Still they reign today, chronically killing any witness by their perversed philosphy
Who’s stopping me
So obviousy the police came up short on their property, stolen by me chomically
Because of our poverty my whole teams ornery & mean, we’ll defeat all flawlessly
Caustiously I made it back to my countries monarchy to display my clean robbery
Somberly I rest, ready for the next test, ready to bodily harm any teams monopoly
Our policies invest in our economy with no appolgies, we believe in our prophecy
Impossibly the best as a Colony of Vets, so modesty is just a dream of sovereignty
So Wannabe’s
Like Phang, Chu Chan and Dhrake were dismembered, shamed as obscure fakes
The Black Dragon Clan surrendered their fate, when they planned with the Urkrains
Dhrake double crossed Chan, the Police doubled crossed Dhrake with a damn raid
They didn’t remember plans with Dhrake, tempered with all the mistakes Chan made
Phang was a damn snake, he double crossed me and tride to take, scram and shake
Our plans were to keep sake our commands, follow through & make 900 grand, CAKE

[Sp0ken]

Writer 1

I was feeling the short rhyme... it was real basic and no real flex on style but you stayed consistent from start to finish thru out tbh on the whole story which in return really set a standard for it to maintain and you never let it belittle the contrast of your content and wording. just wish it had more flex on it regarding your metaphors and and multies.

Seconds went to minutes to hours to days
Our fear moved from worried to angered to dazed
It wasn’t like Pappi to get up and leave
Then we waited so long Mutti started to grieve.

I showed pictures to strangers who withdrew in derision
Until one pointed up to a small television.
My father’s tired face shone out from the screen
As the writing said ‘Manhunt for Mohammedeen’.

The story showed deaths from a Jihadist plot
But the leader escaped – “But my father was not
Even of Muslim faith!” I angrily protested
Then suspicions were raised and I too was arrested.

I was beaten and questioned, the evidence shown
“Your father, it seems, was a man you’d not known.”
Pappi, quiet Pap, had a dark other life
We were just his Sikh cover, a son and a wife.

Mother wailed in shame that was tinged with denial
While ‘Mohammedeen’s’ brothers were sentenced to trial
“He is NOT Mohammedeen, he is NOT, it’s not true!
He is Rohinder Lall, and a Pappi to you!”

The desolation got no better
For weeks, and then I received a letter
Containing the photograph you see,
Anonymously sent to me.

that had the most impact thru the verse cau i feel it really depicted the climax of the story told and really stayed with a intent to leave with a dissertation of such anguish and pain. stayed on topic with the picture.



Writer 4

you came with such a difference in style and overall performance. you came with nice multies from time to time and the metaphors were definitely there for sure.

The Urkrains just walked slowly, one seems to look around to mock knowningly
Dhrakes half cocked and holding a peace openly, locked, stocked & heroically
The tame laugh, not knowing that war creeps boldy towards their shops coldly
Both gangs are trapped, the cops are patroling streets and will stop hopelessly
The exchange is mapped, both drops are supposedly to meet, it’s hot and toasty
Plans can change or collapse, squads are aproaching me but not knowing me
I’m a spy &
They don’t realize, I’m a spy from an organization ran like a corporate nation
Disguised as a guy that’s the shops subordinant asian, or unfortunate patient
I hide to elude enforcements detainment, I’m ready to incorporate operations
I’ve been tried as an ornament & assaillant, I’m trained to reinforce its relation
I seize time & dart towards their important containments & flee before invation
I survived with drugs & cash, an enormous escapment with more abatements
Than
Phang & Chans gang shot first, some Urkrains got caught and earthed properly
Urkrains came in and rampaged on any who remain hot or cursed as a mockery
Phang got shot, lamed by pure rage from Dhrake, Phang was served, shockingly
Bullets rain Chan started stocking creeps, unloaded pain to hurt G’s methodicaly
Remember game recognizes Game, so logically Police came to disburse ironically
Still they reign today, chronically killing any witness by their perversed philosphy
Who’s stopping me

you have a knack for detail which is really great but it seemed to me like lit was a tad bit overzealous with the style you had approached with like the assertions of knowledgeable vocabulary tbeing just like as if you threw it in there for style and display... alot of grammar errors tbh that will be taken advantage when it comes down to critical voting man... cause it makes us stop reading and correcting it to actually announce the way it is said.


overall thsi was a nice battle... two completely different approaches but i have to go with is


Writer 1

[Sp0ken]

Writer 1

I was feeling the short rhyme... it was real basic and no real flex on style but you stayed consistent from start to finish thru out tbh on the whole story which in return really set a standard for it to maintain and you never let it belittle the contrast of your content and wording. just wish it had more flex on it regarding your metaphors and and multies.

Seconds went to minutes to hours to days
Our fear moved from worried to angered to dazed
It wasn’t like Pappi to get up and leave
Then we waited so long Mutti started to grieve.

I showed pictures to strangers who withdrew in derision
Until one pointed up to a small television.
My father’s tired face shone out from the screen
As the writing said ‘Manhunt for Mohammedeen’.

The story showed deaths from a Jihadist plot
But the leader escaped – “But my father was not
Even of Muslim faith!” I angrily protested
Then suspicions were raised and I too was arrested.

I was beaten and questioned, the evidence shown
“Your father, it seems, was a man you’d not known.”
Pappi, quiet Pap, had a dark other life
We were just his Sikh cover, a son and a wife.

Mother wailed in shame that was tinged with denial
While ‘Mohammedeen’s’ brothers were sentenced to trial
“He is NOT Mohammedeen, he is NOT, it’s not true!
He is Rohinder Lall, and a Pappi to you!”

The desolation got no better
For weeks, and then I received a letter
Containing the photograph you see,
Anonymously sent to me.

that had the most impact thru the verse cau i feel it really depicted the climax of the story told and really stayed with a intent to leave with a dissertation of such anguish and pain. stayed on topic with the picture.



Writer 4

you came with such a difference in style and overall performance. you came with nice multies from time to time and the metaphors were definitely there for sure.

The Urkrains just walked slowly, one seems to look around to mock knowningly
Dhrakes half cocked and holding a peace openly, locked, stocked & heroically
The tame laugh, not knowing that war creeps boldy towards their shops coldly
Both gangs are trapped, the cops are patroling streets and will stop hopelessly
The exchange is mapped, both drops are supposedly to meet, it’s hot and toasty
Plans can change or collapse, squads are aproaching me but not knowing me
I’m a spy &
They don’t realize, I’m a spy from an organization ran like a corporate nation
Disguised as a guy that’s the shops subordinant asian, or unfortunate patient
I hide to elude enforcements detainment, I’m ready to incorporate operations
I’ve been tried as an ornament & assaillant, I’m trained to reinforce its relation
I seize time & dart towards their important containments & flee before invation
I survived with drugs & cash, an enormous escapment with more abatements
Than
Phang & Chans gang shot first, some Urkrains got caught and earthed properly
Urkrains came in and rampaged on any who remain hot or cursed as a mockery
Phang got shot, lamed by pure rage from Dhrake, Phang was served, shockingly
Bullets rain Chan started stocking creeps, unloaded pain to hurt G’s methodicaly
Remember game recognizes Game, so logically Police came to disburse ironically
Still they reign today, chronically killing any witness by their perversed philosphy
Who’s stopping me

you have a knack for detail which is really great but it seemed to me like lit was a tad bit overzealous with the style you had approached with like the assertions of knowledgeable vocabulary tbeing just like as if you threw it in there for style and display... alot of grammar errors tbh that will be taken advantage when it comes down to critical voting man... cause it makes us stop reading and correcting it to actually announce the way it is said.


overall thsi was a nice battle... two completely different approaches but i have to go with is


Writer 1

[Iron Mike]

I felt both pieces could have been better. Writer 1's story didn't really have any conclusion/didn't really go anywhere. The writing was nice as far as wording and imagery, but if the flow had been more regular, I might have enjoyed it more. I thought the people in the image looked more Far Eastern (Oriental) than South-East Asian (Indian/Pakistani) so the names and descriptions made more sense to me in Writer 4's piece. I had to force myself to finish reading Writer 4's piece tbph. The story was hard to follow. It seemed more focused on flow, but that actually got in the way. Words were repeated quite often. One of these pieces I mildly enjoyed. The other i didn't enjoy at all. My vote goes to Writer 1.

[Iron Mike]

I felt both pieces could have been better. Writer 1's story didn't really have any conclusion/didn't really go anywhere. The writing was nice as far as wording and imagery, but if the flow had been more regular, I might have enjoyed it more. I thought the people in the image looked more Far Eastern (Oriental) than South-East Asian (Indian/Pakistani) so the names and descriptions made more sense to me in Writer 4's piece. I had to force myself to finish reading Writer 4's piece tbph. The story was hard to follow. It seemed more focused on flow, but that actually got in the way. Words were repeated quite often. One of these pieces I mildly enjoyed. The other i didn't enjoy at all. My vote goes to Writer 1.

Writer 1, I really liked the creativity here. It was a very original idea. It may not have been strictly to the image, but I felt that you managed to bring it back enough. Even through simple wording, you managed to give me a really ethnic feeling to the entire piece, like I could instantly tell the setting. There was a few flaws with the flow for me, and at times I felt it wouldn't have been too hard to improve the lyricism, but overall a really good drop. I really wasn't a fan of the ending though. You want a twist or at least a conclusion, but I don't feel we got one.

Writer 4, I wasn't really into the style you set out to do. It was very lyrically charged, but I don't feel the rhyming vocab was out there enough for it really to have been 'impressive'. It was all quite simplistic in that respect, so if you're going to show a lot of rhyming you really want to make sure someone will be taken back by it. I'll try and post something from Black D in next magazine because he's the perfect example of a lyrical topical writer who manages to astound you with his rhyming. The story too was quite creative, but I feel you deviated a little too much. There wasn't THAT much relevance to the picture imo, and there was all these other characters added on and I felt that a more simple set up might have sufficed.

Overall, this one is close enough, but I feel I enjoyed one throughout a bit better and give them my vote.

Writer 1 GMV

---------- Post added at 04:40 PM ---------- Previous post was at 04:39 PM ----------

Writer 1 WINS 3-0

Writer 1, I really liked the creativity here. It was a very original idea. It may not have been strictly to the image, but I felt that you managed to bring it back enough. Even through simple wording, you managed to give me a really ethnic feeling to the entire piece, like I could instantly tell the setting. There was a few flaws with the flow for me, and at times I felt it wouldn't have been too hard to improve the lyricism, but overall a really good drop. I really wasn't a fan of the ending though. You want a twist or at least a conclusion, but I don't feel we got one.

Writer 4, I wasn't really into the style you set out to do. It was very lyrically charged, but I don't feel the rhyming vocab was out there enough for it really to have been 'impressive'. It was all quite simplistic in that respect, so if you're going to show a lot of rhyming you really want to make sure someone will be taken back by it. I'll try and post something from Black D in next magazine because he's the perfect example of a lyrical topical writer who manages to astound you with his rhyming. The story too was quite creative, but I feel you deviated a little too much. There wasn't THAT much relevance to the picture imo, and there was all these other characters added on and I felt that a more simple set up might have sufficed.

Overall, this one is close enough, but I feel I enjoyed one throughout a bit better and give them my vote.

Writer 1 GMV

---------- Post added at 04:40 PM ---------- Previous post was at 04:39 PM ----------

Writer 1 WINS 3-0

Writer 4 = InCizion

Writer 4 = InCizion

Bump for formatting.

Bump for formatting.