1.
Their whispers follow ev'rywhere I go
In awed procession, wondering, amazed
As if I have some magic to bestow.
Forgetful's what I think them when I'm praised:
Too vivid still the former years of want
When these same sycophants would call me crazed,
A rudderless, buffoonish dilettante
Unfit to bear the mantle I possessed,
Their scorn like water flooding from a font.
But now? Conventions ask me as a guest
To share my secrets. Now they're pleased to call
My town the best example of the best.
Appearances deceive, I learned when small,
And Ponyville's not my town. Not at all.
2.
I took my early gambols through those streets
With friends and classmates laughing at my side,
The shining children, foals of the elites—
Except a few who'd quietly confide
When I'd invite them out to shop and play
That while they'd match me dancing stride for stride,
The bits they had were meant to purchase hay,
Not custom shoes or chocolate-covered cheese.
It filled my shallow heart with such dismay!
That ponies worked instead of lived at ease
Upset my world and made more questions fall.
How could my town possess what didn't please?
Appearances deceive, I learned when small,
And Ponyville's not my town. Not at all.
3.
The social whirl that spun my life around
Allowed no room for thoughts too large or thick,
And those I somehow formed were quickly drowned.
"Nopony's ever really poor or sick,"
The common wisdom always reassured.
"Besides, it's having friends that does the trick!"
Unsatisfied by this as I matured,
I turned from those for whom it still held true
And sought the few no others helped or cured.
Their situation called for something new:
Official, licensed friends who could install
The hope that my town needed through and through.
Appearances deceive, I learned when small,
And Ponyville's not my town. Not at all.
4.
The mayor at the time just shook her head:
Too drastic, too expensive, too untried.
So I declared I'd seek her job instead.
I dyed my mane to seem more dignified,
Announced my future civil service corps
Would work for all with friendship as our guide—
And got elected. Then began the chore:
Frustration, failure, snide remarks from those
Who said to try was foolishness and more.
Incompetent they called me; how my foes
Delighted, pointing out each springtime's stall
To name my town a home for windigoes.
Appearances deceive, I learned when small,
And Ponyville's not my town. Not at all.
5.
It seemed a slight majority believed
The program worth the cost because I won
My re-election twice. I then received
Endorsement from the princess of the sun
Whose student came and learned from us so well,
Our Princess Twilight's reign has just begun.
But understand: it's not some magic spell,
No special food or drink that's brought our town
Success where others stumble. Truth to tell,
It's ponies, simply ponies, up and down—
Confounding, wondrous ponies wall to wall—
And serving them will never make me frown.
Appearances deceive, I learned when small,
And Ponyville's not my town. Not at all.
This one:
From the mayor goes out to Cloud Wander for the lovely way he writes the mayor in "Today I Will Be a Princess" and "Shadow Day" and to Ghost of Heraclitus for his tales of Equestria's civil service.
Mike
yay!
Is it possible to contribute poetry?
You know Chaucer was a civil servant.
3877068
Awwww. Thank you.
Heh.
"Mayor Mare is an impossibility. An anomaly. She's an elected official, a group known for being full of myopic self-aggrandizing petty bastards, and yet she appears to be motivated by nothing more or less than the well-being of her fellow citizens. I've subjected her decisions to the most rigorous scrutiny, I've ordered the most detailed investigations on her accounting and—nothing. Nothing. The only thing Sky Scribe found was a minor discrepancy in the town hall repair bill."
"Well there's your in, then."
"The discrepancy is in the positive direction. It so transpired the Mayor payed for some things out of private funds."
"Ah."
"It's an affront to all sense and reason. This sort of thing just doesn't happen."
"Oh, don't be cynical. Selfless, civic-minded ponies do exist."
"'Course they exist, but they join the service, not politics."
"I see. You aren't cynical, you are just prejudiced?"
"Hey, I call 'em as I see 'em."
3877215
Thanks!
3877406
Not poetry, no:
But I am still soliticiting entries in my Luna story contest for another month.
3877929
As was:
Einstein for a couple years.
3878099
A friend of mine:
Once remarked that unusual people are the only ones worth knowing. Here, I'm kind of going with Cloud Wander's idea that the mayor and Pinkie really have an awful lot in common.
Mike
3878537 If possible at all, when well the next contest be?
3878548
This'll probably be:
The only one I do since it's all about finding a home for this extra Luna figurine I have.
Mike
3878599 Okay, cool. Well, I'll be looking forward to sitting down and reading these! :)
Even with the title, I took a moment to realize this was about the Mayor, but once I did I ended up wishing I could favorite this all over again.
3879963
Thanks!
The next one will be a duet for Discord and Fluttershy. Or maybe more a monologue from Discord with Fluttershy's interjections at key moments. Something like that, anyway...
Mike
3881355
Oh, I'm looking forward to that. I'd considered writing something about Discord myself, but I could never decide if I should pick a strict form for the juxtaposition, or produce something that seems chaotic.
Everything I read for the rest of the day will be in iambic pentameter. Again.
Rhyme scheme was tricky to figure out, but it would have been easier if I'd known in the first place how terza rima works. Or even guessed. Come on, past self, you know Latin roots.
3884999
I'm kicking around:
Some variation of the ol' elegiac couplet, maybe with both lines being tetrameters, but the first one being dactylic and the second iambic. I dunno...
3887657
I've always found:
The terza rima rhyme scheme to be a little peculiar--this is the first thing I've ever finished with it, now that I think about it. Dante wrote the whole Divine Comedy using it, so maybe it works better in Italian than English.
Mike
I really liked how you managed to change the meaning of the last sentence each time.
3892202
Thanks!
The repeated bit at the end of each canto isn't technically required in an ode the way it is in a chant royal or a rondeau, but I figured what the heck? I mean, that's the hallmark of a politician, isn't it? To say the same thing over and over and somehow mean something different each time?
Mike
3889741 Makes sense. Beautiful language, Italian. Probably a lot easier to rhyme, as well. More similar suffixes.
Marvelous. :D