Liber by Twilight

by MATP

Rating: everyone
Tags: Anthology, Twilight Sparkle, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Luna, Fluttershy, Princess Celestia
Length: 1049

An anthology of poems of various genres

Princess Celestia assigns Twilight a new task: to read and write poems of various genres.

Submission to the Pony Poetry Contest

Image from https://derpibooru.org/tags/artist-colon-eto+ya

Published 2024-10-07 02:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-10-07 02:00:00 UTC

Prologue - A letter

Twilight, my ex protégée

The world is more
Than what you see,
Than what you learned

To know the world
you must understand how to
Feel.

So I propose you a game,
A challenge perhaps
Or, if you feel nostalgic
Of our past life,
An assignment.

It is said:
“You are what you read”

But feeling are ineffable,
They can’t be expressed by words,
But there is one figure
Who can write
what can’t be expressed by words,

A poet

With newer words
Newer forms
Different schemes
Different rhymes.

So
Read poetry
Analyze poetry
Study poetry

And you too
Will be
A poet.

The game
The challenge
The assignment is this

Read
Analyze
Study poetry
Then write it.

Poetry change
Poetry evolve,

Write me one
For every genre
You read,

Show me all the way
You feel the world.

Fluttershy’s transhumanization (Aestheticism)

Oh Angel bunny,
I was lost in the woods,
Out there where
Houses and cities and money can’t reach.

Oh, Angel bunny,
I was lost in the woods
And a storm caught me.

Suddenly I hear
The music,
The crackling
Of the woods, the leaves hit by water:

Rain on the tall oaks,
Rain on the narrow beechs,
Rain on the thick poplars,
Rain on the light birches,
Rain on the delicate primrose,
Rain on the soft violet,
Rain on my naked wings,
Rain on my face and brow.

And baptized from nature
I find myself reborn
With a novel soul.

Due to this arboreal soul
I see scents
I hear colors
I smell sounds
And scents and colors and sounds
Are one

And the trees speak to me
Not with regular word
But newer
They said me their real names
But how to repeat them
I don’t know
For their name are light are scents are sound confused as one.

Oh, Angel bunny, then
All at once the trees were silent
And
I saw colors,
I heard sounds,
I smelt scents,
And colors and sounds and scents
Are three.

All I heard was the storm:

Rain on the tall oaks,
Rain on the narrow beechs,
Rain on the thick poplars,
Rain on the light birches,
Rain on the delicate primrose,
Rain on the soft violet,
Rain on my naked wings,
Rain on my face and brow,

Oh, Angel bunny,
Forever lost what I felt,
The real names of the three
Are now ineffable for me

Fate (Ermetism)

Evil is in what
exists by fate,
For a purpose,
For a cause.

It is the stone eroded by water,
It is the wrinkling of trees,
It is the carcass of a swallow.

But I know that
Somewhere,
Just across the street
Or on some distant shore,

But I know that
Something,
A beautiful flower
Or some strange fish,

Rest where it doesn’t belong.
Without a purpose
Without a cause.

So the flower in the desert,
The bird in the sea are
Without logic
Without sense.

Those anomalies
Stand for a tear in
The evil mechanism of the world.

And I know that
Someone
Would listen to my cry,
Would plant a flower in the desert,
Would tend to that flower,

Then they would come back to me,
Bring me to the flower,
Smile at me
And say:

“Look! There is your flower”

And then I would call this someone
Friend,
Who did for me something
Without purpose
Without reason
Without sense.

And I would smile,
Happy to know that
This social bonding
Called friendship
Can sabotage
The evil engine that move the world.

Introduction

It is said:
“You are what you read”
And that those words are true.

I read
I Analyzed
I Studied
Poems and poets too

So now I’m a poet apparently
and writing poems is what they do

To feel the world
To see through one’s heart
To express with words
What cannot be expressed by words.

Lunatic (Scapigliatura)

So tender is the night
That everypony sleeps.
So silent is the night
That one can hear a princess weeps.
So hollow is the night
That a jealous thought seeps.

And as seed tend to do,
This little thought sprouts.
So torned by this alien will
I gave myself to doubt.

I am sweet dream
Who rest delight,
I am frightful nightmare
Who on wake hours loom.

I am starry night
Who guide the lost,
I am deep darkness
Who decieve in empty vacuum.

I am wicked princess
Who fell on the moon,
I am righteous monster
Who conquered the throne room.

I am a funambulist
Who hover between
Safe nights
And dreadful doom.

Celestial lesson (Decadentism)

Twilight, do you know why,
On this ungrateful land,
The stars fall from the sky?

Once upon a wicked night,
When the castle wasn’t only mine,
A princess, second of her kind
With filly’s heart,
but adult mind
Twisted by jealousy or rage
Turned into an obscure mage.

A more sparkling mare
When of this danger aware
With her sister dear took up the fight,
This the tale of the day battling the night.

So by some ancient incantation
Of harmonic creation,
The twisted mage was exiled to a location
Where she could be seen no more.

And for those who witness bore,
She’s a monster, princess no more,
So they poisoned her legacy
To those who would come

Since then the night weeps for her damnation
Flooding us with shooting stars,
The night weeps until her salvation
For the stars remember who we are.

Mamihlapinatapei (symbolism)

I look at her
She looks at me
We don’t talk of it
But in this silence
There is a
We

-Unnamed-

It is said:
“You are what you read”
And that those words are true,

I read
I Analyzed
I Studied
Poems and poets too

And maybe it’s right
And they are me,
For in my poems one can find:

Their words
Their schemes
Their rhymes,
There is nothing that is new.

Here it is
The only verses I can make:

There is not my name,
It won’t shine,
That’s how it shall be for
I can’t write something that is mine.

There is nothing of me in my poems,
There is nothing of my poems in me

I am not a poet,
I am somepony who writes poetry.