For honor and glory, I never sought,
Content with a surfeit of peaceful joy.
A purity, simple in deed and thought,
Described my ideal. I'd not alloy
Creative endeavor with crass concerns,
Commercialized dreck of the sort that turns
A pony from craft to the base and bland.
And yet how the future arrives unplanned.
For mine was the heart and the gimlet eye
That brought recognition throughout the land.
In truth, there is much I cannot deny.
Integrity always! For this, I fought.
Designing for farmer or rich playboy,
I plumbed to my depths and forever brought
My "A game" to silk or to corduroy.
Of course, I admit that my passion burns
For satiny smoothness, but talent learns
To work where it must and to understand
That projects are—all of them—somehow grand.
Apparently, though, when ideas fly,
The merchant inside me is thinking "brand."
In truth, there is much I cannot deny.
The marketing concepts that I've been taught,
I spin like a filly with some new toy.
Exploiting my status as "fresh" and "hot,"
I flutter a laugh, let my gaze deploy,
And utter opinions as soft as ferns.
Not one in a thousand, I'm sure, discerns
How trite my reactions, rehearsed and canned,
How genuine feeling is contraband.
A lie? Not at all! Do I moan and cry?
I give what they want be it pearls or sand.
In truth, there is much I cannot deny.
For art is a luxury I have not
The time to pursue. I shall not be coy,
Admitting it freely that I've been caught
In gossamer webs that will soon destroy
The last little vestige that in me yearns
To scramble away. But my stomach churns
And twists to the shape of an ampersand.
Abandon the dream where my works expand
From humble beginnings to beautify
The world? Or continue this saraband?
In truth, there is much I cannot deny.
And yet, as I gaze from my window, bought
By selling designs that I could employ
To other advantage, I'm struck, distraught:
Who owns me? The rich or the hoi polloi?
Undoubtedly neither! My whole life spurns
The yoke such subservience quickly earns!
I won't be constrained by this wonderland
To settle for warm when, with fires fanned
By friendly surroundings, I could defy
The hovering vultures! Shall I demand?
In truth, there is much I cannot deny!
Which means that I'm finished, they say. I'm banned
From life in their towers. But I'll withstand
The glares as I pack up and simplify.
My nature's mercurial, darling, and
In truth, there is much I cannot deny....
Wow, interesting concept ya got here! Haven't read them yet, but I too have done a Poetry Pony collection called "Sentimentality: The Poems of Equestria", to varying degrees of success. I'll be sure to read these individually in time! And maybe (but probably) your poetic flourishes shall touch the ebbing feelings of my heart more so than my exasperatedly drivel I call poetry. Maybe. But probably.
Love always and forever,
-Ghost
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Maybe:
It'll get you back in the mood for your own poems? Maybe?
Mike
3487809
I'm looking forwards to seeing those!
I was intrigued at saraband, but alas, it was to be used as a synonym for dance. Okay, I guess.
Good job, when will there be moar?
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Is a saraband:
Ever anything other than a dance?
The next update will be in a few days and will feature a cycle of limericks from Applejack.
Mike
3489647
I remember that! I only read the first chapter, it fell off my radar...
3574879
.......
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Up that rigging, you monkeys! Aloft! There's no chains to hold you now. Break out those sails and watch them fill with the wind that's carrying us all to freedom!"
fc08.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/298/d/2/miss_rarity_by_lionheartcartoon-d6rrflk.gif
(The artist is Lionhearcartoon, whom you may visit here. The quote is from the old Erroll Flynn swashbuckler, Captain Blood.)
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I trust:
You're familiar with ezra09's still-unfinished but oh, so wonderful "Upon a Falling Feather"? Swashbuckling Rarity doesn't appear in nearly enough stories, I'm convinced.
Mike
Though you're good with words
Everyone is imperfect
Fix this typo, please
This one doesn't just describe Rarity, it feels like her as well. Thank you for sharing it.
Odd question have you or will you be doing any verse in Skaldic or Eddaic style? That would be hard, I think, (especially the kennings) but not impossible.
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As I mentioned:
My poetic training largely goes the southern European route. I'd need to do some research on the northern European forms. Fortunately, I've got a fair amount of Twilight Sparkle in me when it comes to research!
Mike
It only took them until season 5 to catch up with this idea.
Beautiful poem. Revisiting these reminds me just how inspiring this work is, without ever seeming as threatening as widely-published or class-mandated poetry. There's a simple beauty in having such sophisticated work on such an intimate and accessible site.
6470290
Thanks for the kind words:
In the show, at least, things turned out a bit more cheerily, but I can't fault them for that. I've always been much more a "happily ever after" kinda guy...
Mike
"Playboy" doesn't quite fit, but otherwise, well done. This is a very pleasing poetic form. :)
6795791
I've always said:
That one of the main problems with the English language is that not enough words end in "oy"...
I did another "chant royal" later in the collection when it occurred to me that Twilight was royalty: "Princessence" it's called...
But if you keep doing these in order, you've got a whole passel of limericks from Applejack next!
Mike