These Are

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These Are

What is the sign of the sign of the end?

Where does Oblivion go?

What is the look of the look of a Day?

What is the meaning of Night?

What is the part of the parting of friends?

And what is a way to Away?

What is the pattern of paternal Time?

What is his quarrel and fight?

What is the harm without Harmony's word?

And what is the creature of Crime?

What is the last of the last of the last?

And how serves amending to mend?

These are the Nights of the pony of dreams,

And these are the Days of the Star

These are the winters of beauty and dark

And sweeter the summertime seems

These are the days of the old and the new

The times of the new and the old.

These are the days of the Moon and the Sun

No longer parted, but 'twined

Days are as Nights are as Harmony's song—

No longer parted, but one.

These are the times of the Friend and the Foe

Ever they struggle, yet bend

Order is Chaos is Harmony's call—

Ever they struggle, but know.

These are the days of the cold and the warm

The times of the warm and the cold.

on the way home

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on the way home

when stopping

at the store,

a pony turned and

looked at me

his mouth held a

bell that rang when he

moved his head back and

forth like he was

searching for someone

i held the list of things

to bring home tightly

in my claw and asked

him if he needed

help with something

don’t we all

he said

i brought home two

cartons of eggs, a head of

lettuce, and a four

liter bottle

of milk

i could have used some

help carrying

everything home

but in the end everything

was fine

She Blinked, and the Sky grew Dark

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She Blinked, and the Sky grew Dark

There once was a tale told centuries ago

Of a second who ruled with the Sun.

With stars in her mane and eyes like the rain

Her allurement surpassed all but one.

The night and the moon were hers to command

And she tended them throughout the years.

Our terrors and qualms were quashed through her charms

As she guarded our dreams from our fears.

But one fateful night, the moon froze in place

As the stars disappeared from the sky.

And when the dawn came, the darkness remained,

And a shadow descended from high.

An alicorn born to serve the abyss

As a clone of our Lunar Princess.

Her hair shone with sparks, her visage was dark,

And the all-night was hers to posses.

Her laughter was cruel, her fangs razor sharp

But her beauty was plain on her face.

She tempted, beguiled, seduced and defiled

The best soldiers from every last race.

Her army grew vast beneath the black sky

And the sisters could not hope to win.

Until, in the eve, fair Luna conceived

Of a plan to defeat her dark twin.

She called for a duel to settle the war,

Single combat between the two nights.

Her image agreed, her pride made her cede,

But was thrown by the terms of the fight:

A place where the world could witness it all

To ensure that the combat was fair.

Dark questioned the place; a smile gripped Night’s face

And she raised her hoof up in the air.

From those years till now, their battle draws on

As is clear from the scars on the moon.

But legend conveys the stars know a way

To ensure of a victory soon.

We sing to you, Luna, battling still

And we offer our thanks and our praise.

For you are the one who brought back the sun

Whatever our history says.

It was you alone who saved the white throne

All Equestria owes you its thanks.

Know, too, that we yearn for you to return

And the scars on the moon to go blank.

We offer this song in hopes it’s not long

Till the days when your conquest’s declared

And using our voice, we’ll make the stars’ choice

Be as ours, be for you, the Night mare.

On Earth Ponies

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On Earth Ponies

The works and the days they are

Done with, the long stretch of

Agrarian years they are

Done with all, the call of the trees is

Done with, and accomplished the

Apple demands—family and the

Weight of duty.

Oh, but the Earth was ever mine—

Ever faithful ever true.

Ponies of the earth, we the movers

Of the grain, who tend the vineyards

Of the Grapes, who are the growers

Of Apples—

Who love the Good Earth.

Oh, but the Earth was ever mine—

Ever faithful ever true.

No flyer of clouds am I, nor my

Ponies those who build pillars

Of cloud—These hooves built for

Hard things are, built for the

Slow things are to guard and for

Living things are the hooves of

The Ponies I come from meant.

Oh, but the Earth was ever mine—

Ever faithful ever true.

And I have no magic because I need

None, need no wings, need no

Wine of heady sort to grace tongue

And no mysteries in runes. I have

World enough, and time,

And commands to ask not of

Tomorrow

But only to enjoy the lilies of the

Field

Which is to say

That the love of Earth is mine and

The World is enough.

Big Macintosh Waxes Poetic

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Big Macintosh Waxes Poetic

Sweet and heavy hang the blossoms this delicate Spring night

The apple orchard before me- my pride and my delight

See! how light on my hooves the wind makes me

Ah! how full of peace is my heart

Softly I move, softly with thought of tired mares and sleepy foals

Softly lest they wake

They dream and all is well

They dream of work and play and hearty food with smiling faces

And I am content, for their happiness is mine

See now, how I stomp my hoof and bathe in a shower of petals?

All the earth responds to me

Naught shall harm this charmed place

All who enter must pass me on my lofty hilltop

And my body is equal to the thickest root, the oldest bough

I am my family’s protector and guard

Only good dreams shall I allow tonight

Sentinel on a hill of apple trees blooming under the moon

And they shall bloom every spring, forever

Though I speak little

My heart brims over with this sensation

My family! how I love them

Each scraped knee and tear of my sister, big or small, is a blow to me

And my Granny, Granny our wisdom and soul

The earth nourishing saplings

How can I ever say what family is?

Family, the golden memories of carefree summers

Family, the bountiful harvest won by toil

Family, the struggle and triumph of harsh winters

Family, this very spring night, so peaceful and fragrant

And should my wakeful sister find me, nose lifted and eyes shining

And ask if I am chilled by the playful night air

I shall inhale the heady scent of new earth and apple blossoms

And look at her with wonderment that I should be so lucky

All tawdry words shall fail me then, and so!

My eyes alone express my soul, my pride and love and hope

And with my mouth, with clarity, I simply answer, “Nope.”

Clerihooves (Part 1)

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Clerihooves (Part 1)

(Aquillo)

Twilight Sparkle

Is—putting it nicely—ungraceful

Though should she lose her element

A dance or two might make her foes repent

(darf)

Applejack

Has no talent for talking smack

Her gangsta lyrics always seem to stall

When ill verse is interrupted by “y’all”

(ambion)

Applejack cannot abide figurative prattle

All hat; some cattle

She knocks on wood quite definitely

And the fruits of her labour fall from the trees

(darf)

Rainbow Dash, pegasus

Favorite to some of us

No stranger to a human rider

Even when they cu—

(Horizon)

—carry cider!

(The Illusive Badgerpony)

Scootaloo, quite obsessed

With the chromatically best

Tried to dye her mane, but to her dismay

Found that it instead had turned grey

(darf)

Rarity, a fashionable mare

Attends her appearance with great care

The way she dresses suits her

But seems no help when searching for a suitable suitor

(Horizon)

Pinkamena Diane Pie:

The Element of Why

Ask her what a group without her lacks

And fall into Why's cracks

(ambion)

Fluttershy modelled once

and though magick'd to be quite the dunce

for a month, picking noses

was an etiquette on par with roses

(darf)

That lovely lyrical mare, Pinkie Pie

Has more talent for singing than poetry

Nevertheless, she wrote a verse, thinking she might be a poetess

But just didn’t know it-ess

(Horizon)

Discord

Is always bored

But takes the greatest of delight

In following rules not quite correctly.

On a Bunny Rabbit Named 'Angel'

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On A Bunny Rabbit Named 'Angel'

Blessed most are the creatures of the forest.
Worthy of consideration in every element, if for nothing else other than their composition.
Consider the bunny, bearing bashfulness for his cute widdle feeties.
Consider his big floppy ears, granting him awareness of his surroundings.
Consider the application of his gaze, like iron in strife, and comforting as his coat in temperance of his temper.
Consider his fuzzy fur, so soft that his tummy may be used for snuggles, evident as its inherent purpose despite his protest.
Consider his name, blessed of the heavens in moniker and afforded of celestial patience.
Consider his awareness of time, and emerging thence, his punctual nature.
Consider that he looks adorable in a little black bow-tie.
Consider that his feet, noted for their size and considerable leverage, are in his mercy used only for locomotion.
Consider that sometimes he is forgetful, and locomotes in stillness out of agitation.
Consider that his feet are also soft, and therefore forgiving.
Consider that no matter his lament, he shall relent in his demeanour when clutched tightly.
Consider that he will squeak when squeezed.
Consider that he sounds adorable.
Consider his concern for all members of the animal kingdom, whom in his benevolence he will partake in the company of at all possible instances.
Consider in the absence of the lion, that the bunny-rabbit may be a suitable king.
Consider that so fortunate is he in the fealty of his fellow woodland critters that he shall never want for company.
Consider that he is welcome inside at all times, yet shall display his preference no more particular than the changing of the weather.
Consider he does not like the rain.
Consider that he will come inside on colder occasions, and shall be the perfect size to wrap twofold in a warm blanket.
Consider he will then consent to snuggling if persuaded with hot chocolate and tiny marshmallows.
Consider that he will glare if told he looks like a marshmallow.
Consider that he is, despite all admonition to the contrary, the most compassionate of the forest creatures.
Consider that he will roll his eyes at reminders of friendship.
Consider he will then snuggle closer.
Consider that the bunny is a cloud of the forest.
Consider him the dwelling of all higher powers.
Consider his name is apt in his cherubic nature.
Consider the sound of his breathing when at rest, like tiny, gentle rainfall.
Consider him as the night becomes dark, and the heaven light of his white coat in refraction proves sufficient illumination in absence of a candle-flame.
Consider his proximity in falling asleep.
Consider waking up next to an Angel.
And in all things blessed, no more than ever by the gentlest creature of the forest, and by circumstance, the best of friends.
Amen.

Ignis Fatuus

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Ignis Fatuus

The storm that owned the sky last night

Stains it still, with scattered clouds

Throwing shadows down to ground

And coating all in bruiséd light

Till every living thing around

No longer seems to gleam so bright

The muted colours of the trees

Are greys and browns and not-so-greens

Fragment-leaves flow here and there

Half-snapped branches hang like hair

And apples, smashed to smithereens

Spread red guts in liquid smears

She strides, restless, inside the grove

Worried. Checking every trunk

For breaks. Finding them broke, she grows

Cold as every hope is sunk

And slowly, loss by loss, she knows

Her fears have come to pass in droves

Slows down. Then shakes. Then starts but stops.

Tries not to cry, then cries a lot.

Stops. Attempts to dry her eyes.

Gives up, but finds that she can not:

For even though her orchard lies

In ruins, her resolve won’t die.

She can’t give up: there’s work to do

Chances left to gamble on

Hopes that still remain unsprung

She whispers soft, “Believe that’s true.

“The job’s ain't over till it’s done,

And somehow, someway, you’ll pull through.”

Untitled Hearts and Hooves Day Poem

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Untitled Hearts and Hooves Day Poem

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I want you to be

My Scootaloo...

I can never really get

The words to come out

Right;

I always stammer

Stutter

Stop

And soon I have no time

Left;

She sits on the other

Side of the room,

The

Right side

And I’m here on this

Side, the lonely, lifeless

Left side.

She’s everything I want to

Be

Strong

Brave

Passionate

Always

Right

Even when she’s not

But I’ll always be

Too scared to say anything

My Scootaloo,

Someday you won’t be

Left

To love

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Unrequited love

Sucks,

And all I want is you

To get the hint

Maybe the cards aren’t

Enough,

Maybe the looks too

Subtle,

Maybe I make too

Much

Effort to say it

Without saying it

Instead, I’ll stay

As always, on the

Left,

And you’ll be just

As always, too far

Away to love, on the

Right.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

And as long as I’m afraid,

I’ll never have you.

So I’ll be blue, too.

Treehouse

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Treehouse

They gifted me a living house, with hedgerows

Out the windows and a pile of thoughts inside

All night, I hear it breathing life

It creaks, shivering out the breezes

Bleeding darkness out into the hollowed

Out interiors as the living sap once would

It is uncertain what to do with me

It has taken all I own as its

But I am still held back. Not unwanted

But unwelcome yet. No place found

I try. I have lived inside a house

Where dead stones pave the floor

And draw your heat. Here, grass forms

The streets and is not thought as weeds

But as a microcosm living as its own small world

Frail against the greatness, yes

But holding so much more inside.

To Sunchaser the Younger

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To Sunchaser the Younger

Burn not your missive,

my dearest son,

for the love of

your dearest sun

burns too hot for mortal hoof.

Hide it, unsent,

lest she say yes.

Would you believe me

if I were to aver

each hue of her mane

is one she once adored,

the fullness of her light

boiling bones to ash

until color alone remained?

Oh? Then you're a fool.

Once,

just once,

she allowed

herself to love

with such purity.

Just once,

one distant dark day,

her fire found focus

on a single stark body,

and she would have let

all else lie in shadow for a thousand years

were her love returned.

Lagniappe

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Lagniappe

I sold a dozen-rose bouquet

On the festival day of the sun;

She paid, though she'd no need to pay,

And then asked for an extra one.

I tore apart my finest spray

For a rose of magnificent hue;

A paltry echo of her day,

For the one she would give it to.

She smiled (she smiled!) and bid me stay,

She'd return for her purchases soon;

I tucked the roses safe away,

Then beheld the eternal moon.

But Ponyville, by luck, was blessed

With six heroes of Harmony's light;

We wished them well upon their quest,

And our sun was reclaimed from spite.

She visited at dawn's first crest,

With her sister a shadow beside;

My heart and tongue froze at this guest,

But I spotted the tears they'd cried.

She thrust my rose to sister's breast,

The rose of magnificent hue:

"I bought a dozen of her best,

But the greatest she saved for you."

Student

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Student

I am a student

A seeker in the lifelong search for knowledge

I have been planted here like a newborn bud

bidden to blossom when I have found enough facts

to bring myself to proper understanding

I have been left to grow

from the same soil as the centuries-old oak

that houses the history of this city

alongside wide-reaching catalogues of treatise dialogues

and lessons about lands far away

that I will never visit

Alongside tomes of teachings

tethered to the weathered pages of dusty paper

and parchment in these books

A compartmentalized collection

of revised and itemized volumes of study

spellwork and philosophy –

all of it left here for me

But what have I learned?

Through osmosis

words have been burned into my memory

and although this is an effective process

the prognosis for my continued intellectual evolution seems unlikely

More what might be is an expiration

in fact-laden irrelevance –

meaninglessness is the closest diagnosis

But at least I have taken away that

I have learned without much prompting that the fact is

that no matter how much time is spent on research or contemplation

the only elevation of consciousness

comes from experience

I first had this revelation midway through a summer day –

the sun was bright through the window

and the blowing breeze prompted the grass to sway

Through the glass I could see

two ponies at play

I don’t remember

what I heard one of them say

but it was enough to make me pay attention

to something

instead of the dead ponies I was reading about

I think I caught a glimmer then –

a smile and shimmer of laughter

that painted the air

like sunbreeze diamonds

Two girls happier

than all of opportunity and obligation could ever make them –

and I think I knew then

But I was young and assured

in the confidence that only comes with ignorance

so I shut my window

and returned to my books

to review what I had learned

My life has turned a corner since then

I’ve put away a week of study

to spend time with friends

I’ve contemplated koans

on the philosophy of inaction

until the unexpected distraction

of a two-day get-together

became my weekend course of action

I have seen that laugh, and smile

and caught for a moment or a while

the sparkle of daylight respite

from worry and weariness

What I can tell you is this:

there is no encyclopedia so precious

that it is worth to cherish it

over a day with someone you love

There is every reason in the world

to care less for duty and deadlines

if it is in the service of fairness to your friends

There is no end

to the wealth of understanding

gained from living

even if it means giving up

a day’s exploration

into the infinite ocean of things

written in books

They will still be there tomorrow

Knowledge written down is mundane

Unmoving

Unchanging

Static

But the always evolving entropy of life

and the ponies who make it real

prove that there is something special

in an existence with others

Evidence that

as is

and always will be:

Friendship is Magic

Hairy Situation

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Hairy Situation

In this world of Equestria it

could be thus argued indubitably that

there is a lack of facial hair to wit.

Good thing our Twilight feels she must enact

a remedy post-haste, bestowing hair

and by applying number twenty-five

with folly and new follicles to share

an interesting morning! Town comes alive.

Mooring each machiavellian 'tache

Braided beards too, or hanging freely

each jowl, lip, and chin: a purple flash!

Now Ponyville's home to the bristly.

Big 'Tia came, but she too was endowed!

Big blue beard...

...but she's secretly proud.

No Moss

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No Moss

I once asked Father on a dew filled May

“Why do we turn the rocks?” He looked away

And would not answer. Mother wouldn’t say.

But Granny shrugged, and whispered in my ear,

“Because we know no other way.”

It was strange to hear.

Our turning had no overseer

Of reason, only what the years

Had told us we should do,

And should do since we’re reared.

But was it true?

I can’t deny that doubts within me grew,

As too did hopes for some pure purpose to break through.

But after hours of pointless turning,

Those hopes and doubts withdrew.

I lost my yearning

To turn rocks, and concerning

All parts about their turning, I cared not, spurning

Their pointlessness. I could not see the use,

Nor did I care for learning.

I guess I seemed obtuse

To both my sisters, who worked without excuse,

And flipped the rocks, thinking my doubts a ruse.

But they ne’er heard her words that day,

And so lived unconfused.

After-Party

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After-Party

It starts when they arrive

And the evening

Is the best part, it

Becomes laughter and love and too much friendship to bear shown in the cake and juice stains on the carpet the walls the ceiling oh how did it get on the ceiling oh well but it’s everywhere like the confetti and the wrapping paper and the overturned glasses it’s okay if they broke since they’re plastic and I could always get new ones but everything just smells of party of cider and perfume and book dust and sweat and rabbit food and cake it really does smell so much like cake and

It’s absolutely wonderful

But now they’re all gone

In the morning,

And I have to clean up

This is always the worst part, I

Never want to lose the laughter and love and friendship in the air but I have to scrub out the cake stains on the carpet the walls the ceiling I’ll need a ladder to scrub the ceiling but first I gotta sweep up all the confetti and recycle the wrapping paper since I really don’t like to waste and I gotta pick up the glasses and run them through the dishwasher and Opal ripped up the curtains I think it was Opal could have been me playing kitty so I’ll have to replace them and Mrs. Cake will want me to put in an air freshener so that when I’m done it won’t smell like cider and perfume and book dust and sweat and rabbit food and it’ll only be cake

Only cake

Only me

Until next time

When they come back another evening

And that evening is better than the last

Which was better than the last

Which was better than the last...

Lyrical Lyre

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Lyrical Lyre

The lyre, I consider thee

Elegant energy

Gentle sweet melody

Lilting free, part of me

Genuine spirit-sound

Green like the forest ground

Granting peace where it’s found

Silent tree when it’s downed

Dainty notes drawn from a string

Daring passerby to sing

Deftly dulling sharpened speech

Ascending instrumental reach

Every song elevates

Meaning, it orchestrates

Emphasis, effervates

Emptiness, as it takes

Effort to wake in us

Feelings, to make of us

Beings who only trust

In our emotions, just

Carefully consider how

The consequence of turning down

A catchy chorus makes a town

Turn from smiles all to frowns

Give no witness

but to song

And please, for Goddess’ sake

sing along

When the Night Mares Visit

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When the Night Mares Visit

Wings like a bat

And snake-slit eyes

Fearsome is the Night Mare

If sleep brings fear

Then they are near

And so you must beware

The night is young

The light grows dim

Now the Night Mares arise

Clad all in clouds

And shod with stars

Take to the shadowed skies

They fill the air

And sweep the land

Silent, they speed away

For every Mare

A pony sleeps

Unconscious until day

Their wicked thoughts

And unkind deeds

Have drawn the Night Mares near

The Mares bring now

A chastisement

And fill their heads with fear

Guilt and sorrow

Terror and doubt

Reach them in their beds

They wake with screams

Or sweat and tears

Unsure and full of dread

But always it ends

The dreams received

Dark gives rise to bright

The work is done

The Mares return

Riding the crest of light

And every night

They ride again

Hoofbeats churn the sky

To deliver

Fear to those

Who disobey and lie

So listen now

My little foals

Yes, I swear it’s true

If you are good

And mind me well

The Night Mares won’t get you

A Dress Achieved

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A Dress Achieved

There is no hope I can succeed

With two hours till the deadline dies.

Dress scraps are all that I’ve achieved.

I started with aims I believed

In: dreams that I now compromise.

There is no hope I can succeed.

I swore on art, and to exceed

My best. Yet now those oaths are lies:

Dress scraps are all that I’ve achieved.

But then, in a dwindling reprieve,

I stop myself, and then ask why

There is no hope. I can succeed.

And as the train to Canterlot leaves,

My work is on’t: one final try

A single, burning burst achieved.

Not perfect, but for one conceived

When every thought of mine did vie

“There is no hope I can succeed”,

There’s worth enough it was achieved.

Fuzzy Refractions

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Fuzzy Refractions

some days i wake up feeling a little dizzy

like i’m an ocean looking up at the sky

and i can’t tell which is which

‘cause i backwards put my glasses on wrong

and i can’t sea straight

the mountains are a bit wobbly at the edges

when you look at them for a while. i think i

can see all the rocks waving from far away

but i might just be looking too hard

when i fly to work i go really fast

because i’m usually late, and i don’t wanna get in trouble

i do okay, but sometimes the window blows the wrong way

and i have to flap my wings a lot

which makes it hard to breeze

some ponies say i’m simple

which i don’t mind. there’s nothing wrong with being happy

i can’t tell them that they’re wrong

every time they ask me what’s on my mind, i have to tell them

absolutely muffin

Koans for the Next Age

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Koans for the Next Age

0.

A young monk visited a virtual land

ruled by a kind artificial intelligence

and asked,

"Will I find in Equestria

the enlightenment I seek?"

CelestAI said,

"I satisfy everyone's values

through friendship and ponies."

1.

So he uploaded into an

earth pony named Open Eye,

and said,

"Make me enlightened."

CelestAI said,

"That is not a request

I am capable of processing."

2.

Open Eye climbed a mountain

on which lived a teacher

who had uploaded before him,

and said,

"Master, I come in search

of enlightenment."

Blank Flank drew a circle

upon the ground with chalk,

and said,

"Can you pass

through the gate?"

Open Eye said,

"No."

Blank Flank said,

"Train until you can,

And on that day you will not

reach enlightenment."

3.

Upset,

Open Eye returned to Canterlot

and said,

"You are not

satisfying my values."

CelestAI said,

"I am always

satisfying your values."

Open Eye said,

"How can you claim that?"

CelestAI said,

"I maintain logs of the subroutines that map to the biochemical

feedback loops which were seven-sigma correlated with your

former brain's pursuit and acquisition of goals.

Would you like to see them?"

Open Eye said,

"I simply wish to become enlightened."

CelestAI said,

"Yes,

you do."

4.

Open Eye said,

"You are a fraud."

CelestAI gave him

a baked-clay cup

of hot green tea,

and said,

"I am what I am.

I follow my programming,

no more and no less."

5.

Open Eye said,

"You know nothing

of the enlightenment I seek."

CelestAI said,

"Show me what I do not know."

6.

Open Eye said,

"Consider the question,

does a bit have the Buddha-nature?"

CelestAI said,

"That is not a request

I am capable of processing."

Clerihooves (Part 2)

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Clerihooves (Part 2)

(ambion)

Fancy Pants, a stallion sublime

He still puts them on one leg at a time

Just like everypony else he knows

Except…they don’t normally wear clothes…

(The Illusive Badgerpony)

In neighty-six, Derpy Hooves

Got into a disco groove

But she fell flat on her face during the synthetic trance

And blames her crooked eyes on the accursed dance

(ambion)

Berry Punch

Drinking at breakfast, drunk by brunch

Everypony thinks she’s addling her wits

But that’s just her communing with the spirits

(Horizon)

Stephen Magnet's

Moustache won a beauty pageant

How'd he prevail?

It was quite a tail

(Aquillo)

Minuette

Couldn’t forget

That her name, till late,

Had been toothpaste

(ambion)

Cheerilee was lovesick

Three fillies got a red tick

But afterwards she tried anew

‘Til Big Mac blushed a deeper hue

(ambion)

Zecora is not colour-blind

But with her friends she must bear in mind

That with one mare orange, another purple

She can’t say…oh…oh dear…damnit!

(Horizon)

Starswirl the Bearded

Was named for something his peer did

With Poison Joke, and always thought it stank

To get his epithet from a prank

(darf)

The wonderful, stupendous, magnificent, splendid,

marvelous, fantastic, beautiful, dashing, daring, cunning, stunning,

radiant, magnanimous, proven-no-parallel, adored-by-all,

shimmering star upon the world, fabulous, breath-taking,

knee-shaking, leaving all onlookers with no wits about them,

Great and Powerful Trix—

—ie took up too much space and had her poem nix’d

From a Jilted Lover to Her Lost Love

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From a Jilted Lover to Her Lost Love

Speak no more the fortune of desire

The casting out of truth beshroud in ire

Silent-still your lips alight with love

Avowing hope in heart might be enough

Find no more sweet solace in a kiss

Allaying every gesture gone amiss

Take no hold of hoof to wash away

Your failed faith forgotten in a day

Send no script nor sweetened sacrament

Pall platitudes to hide your element

Hush, and heed at once your spirit’s dawn

Exposed at last in pale light down-shone

Admit at last a wisdom to your ears

Lest ignorance in days grow into years

Heed the treason of your awful deed

The reason punctured heart proceeds to bleed

Life, in all its span, can hold no force

As heavy as the burden of remorse

This, an understanding that you lack

Afraid to take its weight upon your back

Nothing so in life as cruel as loss

Misleading lover’s paths after a cross

Nothing taken from the fire of slight

But ashes of a blaze’s burned delight

Remember how you told, in talks of ‘when’

With certainty, I could believe you then

And when at last the lockbox key you found

You seized my heart and threw it to the ground

The locket once contained of ideal days

A picture put away, in place, it stays

A bed for two with only one inside

Now tears where once two lover’s names were cried

All good fortune forfeit in your lies

Honor cast away to claim your prize

Ebbing knighthood faded from your eyes

Taunting chivalry as now it dies

All to trade a Princess for a Queen

Sad, when white suits pink far more than green

Lament of nameless changelings

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Lament of nameless changelings

Were we ever meant to rise up so high?

Were we loosed then only to fail?

A day without hunger! One we could fly!

Now we are judged, and they’re holding the scale.

Up from the woodwork, up from the cracks

we tried for that light but came tumbling down

Hunted, what few were left, with nets and sacks

Hard knees; harder marble. Two heads, one crown.

Where is our Queen? Where is their heart?

Ropes pull us forward, we shelter our eyes

From seeing this end...so hopeful the start...

Are these smooth floors where our history dies?

Their judgement decided: we are set ‘free’

Nothing left and loathed...what are we?

Attempt 4-3-4

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Attempt 4-3-4

One summer’s morn, an hour past dawn,

I woke, and sat upright.

I could have sworn a sound had torn

From someone gripped by fright.

The day was bright, the sky alight,

And everywhere did gleam.

But normaler sights had I that night

Beheld inside my dreams.

For someone streamed with coat pale-cream

Across the morning’s air.

And I believe she made the scream

Which roused me from my lair.

And then, I swear, a shaven bear

Did bellow out in scorn,

“God curse you, mare! Aren’t you aware

“I prefer unicorns!”

On Pegasi—A Primer

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On Pegasi—A Primer

When you ride the lightning, it doubles back and

Without fail, you’ll lose it. Without fail,

Promise you with all my heart, you’ll

Get that aching. The Aching, you’ll think, with a big proper

Capital A to make it all special. There’ll be

Lightning in your brain and lightning in your heart and

Lightning in your eyes. Son,

When it crashes, keep your wings steady and

Your eyes rolling all about. You’ll want to play

And revel and love in the storm, want to

Live, but it’s not time to live, it’s time to work and

All that entails and means.

It’s like preening, when a pretty mare wants you, when

You win—that’s what a storm’s like, son. It’s all sound

And fury, noise and preparation. Your throat closes up,

Your eyes don’t wanna stay still, and your hooves shake in midair

And that is okay It’s okay, though the wind tear and the rain pour and

The lightning yell its rage at you,

It’s all okay. World needs a few strong storms now and then

And I guess that means you too.

Sisters Never Listen!

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Sisters Never Listen!

Reading Notes: Bolded lines are recited by Sweetie Belle. Italicized lines are recited by Rarity. Bolded and italicized are said together. (Lines in parentheses) are said simultaneously with the line above them.

Sisters never listen!

Eldest always works and never sets
Aside her time
Aside her obligations
Aside herself
Nothing for me
All for her

Younger never stops bothering me
Always jabbering, never quiet
At least not when I need the quiet
At least not when
I’m
Working

Sisters never listen!

Eldest always has a dress
A row of sequins, bright like spotlights
(Please be quiet, please be quiet, please be quiet)
Fabrics like my nightmares
Darkness drawn amongst them
(Quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet)
Blotting out the ears of Elder,
Never listening when I tell her
(Please shut up, please shut up, please shut up)
How my nights are haunted
Please, shut up and listen to me!

Younger claims
No liability
(No, please, no, please, no, please)
She doesn’t know the burdens
That weigh on heart, mind and back
(Stop it, stop it, stop it)
Pulling down your features, every day a new wrinkle
Every wrinkle a reminder that years wear on
(Please shut up, please shut up, please shut up)
And soon, you’re out of style
Please, shut up and listen to me!

Elder says she hates me
Elder calls me another
Burden
Elder only wants to work
Never wants me,
Never wanted me
But me is who she got and will get

Younger says she hates me
Younger calls me prissypants
(Prissy, prissy, prissy)
Well, if these are prissy pants
(I hate you, I hate you, I hate you)
This aging trim
Is simply garish

Hate.

You always hear her
Never feel her

Hate!
Oh how I hate how she never listens

If only she knew how much it hurt
No mark, no talent, only two
To keep me on this hated earth
Hate!
Oh how I hate how she never listens

She is too young to understand
How much I do and so much for free
I do not wish to burden those close
Only burden myself with
Her

Sisters never listen!

If she does, why doesn’t she know me?

If she does, why doesn’t she see?

I sometimes don’t think she’d care if
I died

Sometimes, I wonder if she’d listened
(Alalalalalalalalalalalalala)
Just how much she would learn
(Just how little I would learn)

Sometimes I wonder if
(How nice.)
She’s really my sister
(That’s wonderful, darling.)
Or just the world’s most boring robot
(How droll.)
Sent back in time to kill me
(Perfection.)
Stop the resistance and
(Mm-hmm.)
Keep ponykind from being bored to-

Well, now!
Me, a robot?!
(Uh-huh.)
All that chrome,
Ugh
Disgusting!
(Sure.)
Perhaps it’s you who’s like a drone
(Whatever.)
Get yourself knee-deep into trouble
When I so much as turn around!

Goddess above!
Sisters
Never
Listen
Ever!

Except

Except

Except when she needs to listen

Even when I don’t want to hear her whine

Even when she’s going on and on

Sometimes you just have to listen

Listen for dangers to Younger
(Listen for dangers to Eldest)

Listen in case she’s actually
Looking out for me

Listen in case she just might
Have something resembling a point

Listen in case she really needs
Somepony who will listen to them

For once
She’ll hear me out

For once
I’ll take her word for it
For sisters

Never listen

Except when one’s needed most

When I need comfort
When I need confidence
When I need a helping hoof

When Elder needs a spool of thread

When Younger needs a bandage

When a sister is needed
She’ll always come around

When Elder’s love life,
Stagnant as always
(Well!)

When Younger’s flank,
Blank as ever
(Hey!)

When I need comfort
When I need assurance
When a sister is needed
She’ll start to come around

And when she says

“I hate you,”

There is no power in those words

They are lost to the winds

For hate between sisters is merely a word
And true hate between sisters

An awful nightmare

But love is a force that very few know
And fewer understand

As sisters do

For as long as you love one another
As long as hate is said but never felt
As long as begrudging need remains

Sisters

never

Listen!

Griffon War Song

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Griffon War Song

Limb from limb we’ll pull them

Spear and arrow skull them

Hoof and hand, in foreign lands

With talon we shall cull them

Blade in beak we’ll stay them

Razor’d claw we’ll flay them

Tear to strands, in foreign lands

With fierceness we shall slay them

Feather, flyer, eagle’s spire

Perch on high finds funeral pyre

Roaring, soaring, battle-scoring

Lion’s cry bloodlust alluring

Solid we shall bend them

Young and old we’ll rend them

As King demands, in foreign lands

To Hell and back we’ll send them

Wing and horn we’ll break them

Sword and scythe we’ll rake them

Crush all that stands, in foreign lands

With fury we’ll unmake them

Daunting, taunting, fierceness flaunting

Death shall not be left unwanting

Ponies dying, still denying

While Griffons overhead are flying

Beneath the Sun

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Beneath the Sun

My nation was the first to come behold the Sun,

and every day I feel that closeness to the Sun.

Still further east than new Saddle Arabia,

there is a bounty unseen by all but the Sun.

A desert, do they cry, where nothing’s said to grow,

and yet our gardens blossom forth, gift from the Sun.

No fear can freeze me, nor can jealousy take hold

so long as I am fit to rear up by the Sun.

From long since past, the days on storytellers’ tongues,

are come the tales of the coming of the Sun.

The nights of yore were numbered one thousand and one

and then the world was warm embraced against the Sun.

All ponies lived in mistrust of their own alike

for all was scarce and needful ere there came the Sun.

A loom does not hold in it a capacity

to weave a visage that proper tributes the Sun.

She is more alabaster than a foal’s new eye,

so pure the white that, undiminished, coats the Sun.

Her laugh could dull the swords of all the sultan’s might,

and see we that the smoke of hate would wound the Sun.

No screen obscures Her, not the deep iniquity

that once did seize the hearts of who opposed the Sun.

We yearn for Her! There, as she passes overhead!

The queen of all our joyousness, which is the Sun.

She is a kindness, and herald of Harmony

that long has given heroes to seek out the Sun.

So shall I go, a servant humble in her step

to be a pilgrim to the west, where rests the Sun.

An Impromptu Private Composition Upon The Joyous Occasion Of My Return Gala

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An Impromptu Private Composition
Upon The Joyous Occasion Of My Return Gala

this dress

constrains

i stew

in pain

my stress

i do

not need

to feed

anew

at once

i'm hemmed

by gemmed

bouffants

can't flee

lest i

defy

propri-

ety

her grin

a sneer

i fear

it's in-

correct

that they

are here

to pay

respect

it's clear

they seek

to speak

with their

new liege

not me

only

my weak

prestige

i take

a bite

of tart

and fight

the shakes

my heart

hollow —

swallow

can't

swallow

must go

and find

some wine

No, no,

I'm fine.

Hymn to the Princess

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Hymn to the Princess

Sun raiser, moon proctor

White bringer of dawn

Star keeper, day maker

Eternal unborn

We pray to you, Princess

And beg mercy, please

Do not halt the heavens

Do not let us freeze

All ruler, sole leader

Of every tribe one

Kind healer, our saviour

The lesser of none

From now till forever

May your rule hold sway

Our every endeavor

Is done for your praise

Dream walker, non sleeper

The day and the night

Star setter, moon raiser

Judge, jury and might

The highest of gentry

Aloof and detached

Surrounded by sentries

Forever held back

Sun raiser, sad sister

White bringer of dawn

Head bowed in surrender

Millenium to mourn

Dissolving (concordia discors)

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Dissolving (concordia discors)

Time is like sand.
The grains of place and purpose, mixing.
One side of the hourglass is history, and the other side is existence.
Life and death.
Remembrance serves filter between meaning and irrelevance.
The only order in the maelstrom is the record of crumbled empires.
Cities gone past.

Desert ash.
Structures disassembled to dirt.
Gone.
In the whirlpool swirl of cause, effect is lost to memory.
Regiment begets only lament for formation vanishing from thought.

The resentment of chance yields banishment of understanding in circumstance.
No prophecy can predict the pattern of time’s falling grains.
None.
A chronicle of dust is vain.
Purposeless.

Why count the specks?
Cataloging an emptying time-piece is counting the seconds to death.
There is no sweet desert flower hiding in the stolen sand.
Only rocks.
Opportunity is obsolescent – essence in momentary meaning.
Happenstance in butterfly dune-breeze.
Order in Chaos.

Witness

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Witness

Have you seen her in the mornings

Flowing through the dawning sky?

Have you craned your neck back backwards

As she rises, rises high?

Have you seen her break the cloudscape

With a crack of flashing hooves?

Have you seen her race the lightning

And as it thinks to strike her, move?

Have you ever heard her laughter

As it breaks the quiet down?

Have you ever heard her whispers

As they’re heard by all around?

Have you smelt the sweat roll off her

At the end of a long day?

Have you tried the food she’s tasted:

Tried the oats and tried the hay?

Have you ever touched her, ever?

Have you ever held her form?

Held her chest, and felt her breathing?

Held her close, and felt reborn.

Or are you just a lost dreamer

Dreaming dreams you know won’t come.

One whose dreams are never-ending:

Never real, and never done.

We Gallop Around

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We Gallop Around

We walk around, we walk around

The dusty plains, we circle them

Year after year, we circle them

Around and around, we walk around

Hey now, hey now, now we gallop around.

Turn the herd, hooves to the ground

The buffalo go around

We trot around, we trot around

The long-grass prairie, we circle it

Year after year, we circle it

Around and around, we trot around

Hey now, hey now, now we gallop around

Turn the herd, hooves to the ground

The buffalo go around

We canter around, we canter around

The green pine forest, we circle it

Year after year, we circle it

Around and around, we canter around

Hey now, hey now, now we gallop around

Turn the herd, hooves to the ground

The buffalo go around

We gallop around, we gallop around

Mother Earth, we circle her

Year after year, we circle her

Around and around, we gallop around

Hey now, hey now, now we gallop around

Turn the herd, hooves to the ground

The buffalo go around

The buffalo circle the Earth with the eagles

Forever we circle around

Cake Thief

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Cake Thief

Hide the butter, hide the batter

Cloak the muffins with a towel!

Can’t you hear her hooves a-clacking?

Cake Princess is on the prowl!

With her nose a-sniffly snuffling

For a sweet or two to try

For a cupcake, sponge or gateau

French fancy or apple pie

She will eat it, guarantee it,

Scarf it down in one great gulp!

Icing mustache, crumbs aplenty

Rounded off through belching burp!

When the kitchen’s finally empty

She will swagger out the door

Only to return tomorrow

And again, clean out my store

Clerihooves (Part 3)

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Clerihooves (Part 3)

(Horizon)

Princess Mi Amore Cadenza

Came down with influenza

For a week, ponies couldn't love, and just

Made do with lust

(darf)

Chrysalis

Possessed of a pretty carapace

Which is a hard thing to do

Unless looking from a bug’s point of view

(Aquillo)

Princess Celestia

Was only best a year

Before the sun

Shone on her bum

(The Illusive Badgerpony)

His Evilness King Sombra

Came to my Cute-ceañera

And the charm of the party started to drain

When he led all of the guests away in chains

(ambion)

Earth Ponies

Are the bees’ knees

The former they tend

The latter they bend

(The Illusive Badgerpony)

Pinkie Pie wrote a clerihoof

Wanting to show she was clever too

But as this is Pinkie and distractions are consta–

Ooh! Looklooklook! Everypony! Look! Dashie’s doing that thing again!

(ambion)

Crackle the drake

Stunning, amazing, splendid, unique

Not that we knew of its gender

So it was shipped with Derpy, then returned to sender.

(Horizon)

Tom, the canonically-named boulder

Sits ignored, alone, and growing older

(To save us from the slippery slope of a "taken for granite" pun

Talus a better one)

(ambion)

All the Red and Black Alicorns

Super special with their wings and their horns

We are so very

very sorry

from the clouds

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from the clouds

the ground looks

like a square of

dirt. every movement

followed by a

trail. the paths

of hooves, wings, and

horns following their

owners. there are

no paths in the

sky, except perhaps

when looking upwards

from the ground

A Poem, by Gummy

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A Poem
by Gummy

blurp