Viewing 141 - 160 of 168 results

Stiny Fishes on the road · 12:09am Nov 10th, 2018

While threading the road of life, whether in the warm or cold grey light, we will pick up luggage; ballast we carry with us, that weigh us down.
As time goes on, it grows. Guilt, anxiety, and other ailments. Carried for too long, and their scent will grow rotten. But by that point we do not notice its smell, we are used to it.
It is only when we acknowledge that we carry this luggage, that we can discard it. While the scent will linger, the journey will be lighter.

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who to send this poem to · 3:04pm Aug 4th, 2017

List of possible candidates:
Derps (for Gal's sake, I'm including him)


What is it about Equestria… · 1:01pm Oct 16th, 2019

…that keeps moving one to add stanzas about it to existing songs and poems? Or is that just me?

Anyway, now that I have two of these, and am seriously doubtful that I'll ever have occasion to use either of them in any larger context, I figured I'd share them with you here. Enjoy. (The original sources are in the tags.)

The folk who live in Ponyville, their hearts are on their flanks;
Their spirits overflow them, like the Suir in spring its banks.

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Bent · 12:00am February 8th

When one is bent,
to feel content,
you might resent,
to pay your rent.

"What good's it for?",
"They need no more".
Then they appear,
at your front door.

Happy Filthy Friday~.


Golden Ice Lilly -- A Poem · 8:06am Sep 21st, 2015

Golden Ice Lilly, glowing bright in the night sky
Darkened rainbows abound, hidden in the corner of our collective minds
We find a new perspective to our situations, turning around constantly
Magnesium salfate inside the empty crates , fancy are we
Tungston steel and a faceless man in the doorway inside the hallway of our minds

No more wire hangers, suspended in resistence
Bring over your next army, cause' this one is missin'

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Revolving · 10:19pm April 10th

We rise, we fall, a curve in every step.
We rise, once more, each fall another prep.
We fall, so often, and yet each day we move.
We fall, we rise, to persevere through doom.

Happy Filthy Friday~.


Who is the beast · 8:56pm January 17th

A human sees flowers, all in a row, they lean in and smell them, make time as they go.
A beast sees flowers, down their list, they grasp and pick them, leaving dew in mist.
Down the list goes, the judge reads them all, passes the beast a sentence, to lay down the law.
The human keeps walking, away the judge gaze, for crime is the act of beasts, abstained the human's ways.

Happy Filthy Friday~.


A Filthy Friday without a Story, but instead Brings you a Poem · 10:05pm Sep 8th, 2017

~Ooo, all the grass I am sowing, so there can be food growing,
mares and stallions eat their full, and grow larger than a bull.~

~And once their nice and juicy, what will happen, you'll see,
they'll be stuffed down again, all part of the food chain,
And soon it'll smell a lot, like, methaneeee.~


Also we have a poll for thie week.
What kind of Mouse do you like?

Visit my Eka's Portal or Furaffinity account for the latest story.

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A Friday to Recover · 11:39pm March 27th

5 steps away, I didn't give the time of day.
4 steps away, I had nothing to say.
3 steps away, I attempted to delay.
4 steps past... I hadn't expected it would move so fast.

Happy Clean Friday~.


Time Compensation · 10:31pm April 3rd

We keep contact brief
and hope it is leading,
to a sigh of relief,
once no one's left breathing.

Happy Clean Filthy Friday~.

Wash your hands, 30 seconds.


Cursed February · 11:52pm January 31st

Thoughts malign affect those close,
expression wry and worries rose.
Infectious is the thought of ill,
inviting by mystery and promise of thrill.
Soon one thought has turned for the worst,
and the subject in question, afflicted and cursed.

Wishing you all a Happy Filthy Friday~.


Sunset Story Stuff · 3:02am January 15th


Friday, Lets Celebrate · 10:38pm March 13th

They say the spirits whisper,
on cold days by the fountain,
about a lonesome spirit wisher,
their existence debated, uncertain.

She once held claims of her own,
and many did she berate,
but now in the dump she's thrown,
those who believe it, do relate.

But the whispers aren't lasting,
their memories... are passing.

Happy Filthy Friday~.


What we ignore · 11:13pm May 8th

When do trees become a forest? Can we put it to a number? Perhaps it i when they stop being individuals and start to become a pattern. Patterns we intersexual, we interpret, we match and decipher, though we just as easily look past it. When the chaos grows too strong, we ignore it.
Until such a time, we find ourselves lost in a forest, unable to recall the trees we passed on the way in.

Happy clean Filthy Friday~.


Mais Non · 5:11pm Nov 28th, 2016

Sadly, Thorax the Red-Nosed Bughorse has not been nearly as well-received as I'd hoped. :rainbowlaugh: Even if it were more well-liked, there's no way it could be Feature Box material when it has to compete with gems like these:

:trollestia: A story about Celestia fighting a cockroach...

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A Poem So Real · 4:29pm Mar 2nd, 2017

I think I'm awake... I just had a weird dream that was similar to the poem I wrote. There was a blood moon, millions of stars, one brighter star that looked more like the sun and lies.... So many lies!! I was nearly hit by a car and my boyfriend was there to hold me in the mud that I jumped in. It went from day to night. From there, everything got weirder. I started speaking in other worldly tongues and had a serious breakdown on the ground. My boyfriend kept repeatedly saying he loved me and

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The Iron Horse updates... later, unfortunately. · 5:03am Feb 26th, 2016

So, uh, yeah... I'm going to have to delay the next chapter by about a week.

"What did you just say?"

Sorry. :fluttercry:

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Pony Carols: Now With Audio!!! · 8:19pm Nov 29th, 2016

I just spent a couple of hours recording each of the carols from Thorax the Red-Nosed Bughorse, and each song now has a YouTube with audio at the top of the lyrics! :pinkiegasp: You might need to refresh the page if you don't see it.

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( Acient Unicorn ) Azuko Vo Itikia Celestus ( Mages of Itkia's Sun ) · 8:21am Sep 21st, 2015

translated from Acient Unicornian.. a magical poem..

Celestus et vo kikokia ( Sun is of blue skies )
Bogen azuko uni freazinata ( One horned mages gather )
Kikokwen rio-zen ( blue skies cry )
Nitus vo celestus Itikia verrkin ( Night of the sun's Itikaia strength )
Erom azuko uni-harzex ( Under mages one time stand )
Zrim avell koway vo azuko yukariss ( Seal evil far away of mage sang forever )


i'm not sure what i just wrote. · 2:00am Sep 21st, 2016

I don’t know what I’m smelling anymore.
I smell wood. There is no wood. Just air. It makes me sick.
I wish there was wood. Then I wouldn’t feel so lonely.

I smell leaves.
They’re new. Except they’re not. They’re dead. They’ve been dead. They crunch under my feet as I walk.
Crunch crunch. Like chips.
I wish i had chips.

Walking is dumb. Flying is better.
I try and fly. I scrape my knee. It hurts. I watch the blood run down my leg.
I don’t feel it. It’s just there.

I hear voices.

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Viewing 141 - 160 of 168 results
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