• Published 26th Apr 2014
  • 1,858 Views, 26 Comments

Racing Thoughts - ambion



A big poem for a big subject: Love. Specifically SparkleDash. *NOW with more!

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Racing Thoughts

Racing Thoughts

‘Longing’ is not a measurement of length,
‘Friendship’ has no peer-reviewed index,
Research never touched love but with forceps,
This inconclusive study leaves me weak.

Then, a wanton heart, autonomous, will flex
and to the brain a sweeter cider slip
and slip another still, ‘til I am slipping,
Over racing thoughts, I’m tripping, tangled hooves
and wings, a spider’s web of strings,
intonations, connotations,
It makes no sense, it makes no sense
that rationale will all but flee when
Rainbow Dash looks straight at me.

Spring is calm, but I? I am a coiled spring.
Flowers have no fear of lovers’ sting,
Flowers cannot move, or dance, or sing
or stammer, falter and themselves disgrace,
I, of course, could fall flat on my face.
Perhaps flowers have the better way
and waiting, waiting, on the ground,
hoping that eventually they’re found,
Twilight Sparkle: be not proud
...but silence is so very loud.

I could think of love, longing and lust
‘til I, diminished, dead, am dust,
Still it would be as hard, bound in a cask,
a basket case, disgrace, of lusting for a friend.
The straight line, with duress, can bend,
Or gravity, its slingshot send
a pegasus through my window
(when all she has to do is ask!)

‘Desire’ is no antonym to ‘fear.’
Though wrong it seems to dread what I hold dear,
I cannot make a stormy day turn clear,
These winds instead command that I would fly
without the means to hold a course,
While thoughts and feelings reenact inside
phenomena from which I’d rather hide,
And tethered in unspoken words
my wings are bound, still thinking of
the pegasus I fear to love.

I feel tied and caught.
For all my words this tongue is stuck
by pins and needles to the wall
(oh pin me to the wall)
I want to fly,
but fear the fall!

My books cannot compare,
Stagnant; only moving
to a next page, still assuming
there’s a next page to read through.

From the balcony I see you,
Skewing all attempt at diction,
Daring something bold and new,
Baffling each presumed direction,
Flying with such bold conviction,
I make no move, yet I am finding
something tight within me winding,
What written word was ever wrought
for dictionaries never taught
and hid away, I need them now
Rainbow Dash still doesn’t know
That I am waiting here, and bound
in silence, I don’t have my lines
I’m gift-wrapped by tongue-tying bind
(An awkward gift, I’m sure)
fruiting, bursting, overripe,
Flower, petal, stamen, stipe.

“Hey” she says. Her voice is felt.
“Hey,” I say, and I could melt.

The beating heart within my chest,
Wildly drumming, does its best
to shout in Morse against my ribs,
“Rainbow Dash: Twilight calls dibs!”

Panic rising, panic mounting,
(Turn these thoughts away from mounting!)
((I still think of Rainbow mounting...))
Mounting me against the wall.

“Um, okay Twi. See you later.”
Turning tail, Dash flies away,
my speaking mind in silence stays
I stammer over simple words
It’s too late now, she hasn’t heard.

I throw myself upon the bed
with blankets smothering my head,
“It isn’t like that, Rainbow Dash!”
The blankets do not say a word,
The pillow cocks an eye,
The bed is thinking me absurd
I guess they spot the lie.

But if I could be so brave as that
I make my plights to an equation,
And pin that up onto the wall,
Deduce or sooth the answers here
in chalk lines buried now made clear,
Then I usurp Lust’s own invasion
and get myself pinned to her wall!

But there is no arithmetic
or treatise written quite so thick
enough to fit eight corners on,
So that a rising sun at dawn
with us beneath the covers drawn
is a cubic rainbow puzzle
(may she touch each chesty fuzzle)
that would I could decipher yet,
So errantly Dash cast this net,
If only we could tete-a-tete-
and analyzed, this feeling brought
to bear, emotions fought and beat
and managing this feat still sought
say, “This is blue and this is not!”
Then set each colour with its own,
And whisper in a softer tone,
“Here is red and here is yellow,”
Both bold enough to mark her sides,
And each I’d touch and hear, “Hello!”
Alone this swirling dream confides
that what I want so plainly hides,
That in the capture of my eyes,
So near and yet so far apart
from where to be and where to start,
This murmur of my lips and heart
makes this a game where I must bluff,
And blind, must feign how to be tough,
Bearing this is hard enough!

My mind is made, my course is set,
This puzzle hasn’t beat me yet,
Though Canterlot did have a maze
that put us all between the walls,
and facing them alone: the worst of ways
for turning sunshine into squalls.

In the end, Rainbow we found
caught in her mind, and so we bound
Her wings. Trapping her to set her free,
I touched my horn unto her brow,
Just as a lock is kissed by key,
And what I did I don’t know how
but felt, instead, my way around
my thoughts, and hers, and memories,
Connecting her, connecting me,
And then it came, sweet victory,
So now I dare to hope again,
Though my good calm is torn and fraught
with thought that on compulsions bid,
But I am my own gavel now
and bids like those I disallow,
Instead, this hammer’s coming down,
I choose what I will be, and do:
I’ll make a plan and follow through!

Indecision turns to action,
I now see that there is traction,
And even burned, if that may be,
Better spurned than burning still,
And even with the sun gone down
starlight illuminates this town,
There’s no more pinning to the wall,
And no more pining of the fall,
What is, will be, I will be free,
My Rainbow Dash be made to see
tectonics of the heart and still
baser needs a world apart
are driving to the surface now,
Can’t keep it in, I don’t know how,
Nor would I do, I think, inflict
that on myself, still can’t predict
what she might take away from this,
In Rainbow’s grasp is all my bliss,
Nor equally is it amiss
to say that I might miss and turn
and fall, pinned to the wall to stay,
As if the skies would turn away
and spurn these wings of mine that don’t
deserve to walk on clouds with her,
And yet these darker musings won’t
stop me now from facing fate,
My racing thoughts soar past first gate.

This is the mansion made of cloud.
Here I can fold my wings and stand,
I’ve come this far, I won’t be cowed,
Made up my mind, for this I planned,
And plan to follow through, I have
a checklist on just what to do,
And every step I follow through,
Another step it leads me to
until no steps are left to take,
Her door is keeping me awake,
And dreaming on the other side
is Rainbow Dash, and I could hide
in bed, with her, and snuggle close,
And spooning, spooned, that is my dose
to set these racing thoughts to rest,
And it would be the very best
of dreams to lay awake with her
and sate whatever feelings stir,
That end to end, a thousand words
could on a single kiss be sent,
And every single kiss declare
the full extent of my intent!

The door, my hoof, I raise to knock,
A final moment taking stock
as dreamy starlight trickles down,
There’s resolution in my frown,
Let no more seconds now be spent
in feeling all too hesitant.

My chest is tight with breath I’ve drawn,
but like the coming of the dawn,
I’m helpless to further delay,
And by the time I must exhale
(I’ve come too far, I won’t turn tail)
this moment in the weaves of life,
A peaceful night, my inner strife.

It opens here, this door, for me,
And Rainbow Dash, she looks at me,
And blinking, sees what I must be:
a castaway long lost at sea
with flotsam of civility,
But soaking still, and soaking am
(if only sweat) heaving these words,
Like anchors up from secret deeps
with treasures lost by distant fleets,
But all the gold is all for nought,
because I know this can’t be bought,
My only chest, my only one
is spilling out before me now,
And even as I’m using up
my chance, I cannot stay my voice,
It babbles on, says all I can,
And sends my butterflies all free
between the stars, I nearly see
them nevermore for walls or pins,
This is confession of my sins,
Though loving Dash, I think could not,
nor ever be, considered such.
“...I think I love you. Very much.”

Author's Note:

A lot of people helped out with making this, and I'm thinking affectionately of every one of them.