Erisvale Community Poemtry Slam

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Erisvale Community Poemtry Slam

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erisvale hat geschrieben:Certain beings of questionable sentience and definite inhumanness have been asking about a poemtry slam. Disappointingly, no such event is currently planned. However, plans are wretched life-forms whose existence coalesces through hidden mysteries and revealed staples on cork-covered bulletin boards. Perhaps, if enough residents of Erisvale perform a sacrificial offering of ink and larynx, the plan seeds may sprout a notice upon our corks.

One can only hope, and dread, the magnificence of the result.
toa267 hat geschrieben:I’m not actually doing a thing, more like asking other people to do the thing for me. Let’s poemtry slam!
bwansen hat geschrieben:OK. I have prepared a little poem in Middle Atlantean:

ҨᔒᕰԃÕӃᘟ ᓠѺԶҖӅϪЂᷠƸƾԶЋᰠƸҎѬ҂ᔒᘟ

ҖЉá ԆѨѮҖԃƢԶ ᓠѺԶҖЋá°á–š ҎԆƢÕѬᷠᓠᓿᙋᗥᔒᓿᙰƾҒ

ƸƾᗥᒈᰠҸᗥᑸϟáҊᒈϡᕔ á‘“Ò–ÕȸᙰҸƢᘟ

ᑓҖЉá ѺԶҖӅϪЂᷠЉᓿѬѺᖚᙋ ƸӅᙰᙋ

ҖЉá ԆѨѮԃÕᖚᙋ ԶƢ á—¥Ò–ÕѬƾҒ ҎԆƢÕѬᷠᓠԆԶҖᓿᙰƾҎ

It’s only a single stanza right now, but I’m still working on it. Do you think I could win with this or is it too shallow?
erisvale hat geschrieben:My Atlantean is a little rusty, so I had to run it through Cthoogle Translate, but it’s definitely a poem! As Cthoogle says, “Dual bonus ethical!â€

I am curious, though: Is there winning in poemtry slams? The game-ification of social interaction may be abundant in some cultures, but should we seek to place unnecessary judgements on other people’s self-expression? I only ask because the Erisvale Community Center has either not had a poemtry slam in its recorded history, or the records are in that room in the basement. (If we need competition rules, I can totally go down there, it’s not a problem. I just don’t want to forget where my left arm is, or spend three days with some weird meat thing attached to my shoulder.)
bwansen hat geschrieben:Oh, winning in a poemtry slam is easy: You just have to survive whatever is awakened by your poem.

I remember a poemtry slam last year during which five floors of Blivet Towers were drained of all sodium by a category 9a emotional entity enticed by the lyrics, which brought the inevitable demise of all organic and most anorganic life in this area. On the other hand, this event led to the subsequent re-discovery of the long-lost 17th floor, so if the contestant (and the jury) had survived this, she sure would have deserved the price (Rule #1: No posthumous winner).

Too bad I couldn’t attend the contest back then, but I was suffering from a rather serious cold (-268°C).
Wenn ich schon der Affe bin, dann will ich der Affe sein, der dem Engel auf's Maul haut. XD
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