I drop the beat and pump the rhythm
while I play my anthem,
slowly gathering speed and force,
pounding skulls like an ancient Norse
god of war. Tonight
we dance, floating free until morning light.
The track picks up and I cut the bass;
some frown, but their faces
light up when they hear the tune
and begin to move.
I scratch the vinyl once or twice
at a practiced moment; my timing is precise
and the tension builds while everyone waits;
the flow resumes, and they
continue dancing.
I switch the track, chancing
a slower song. But the crowd
moves on, the new beat lifting them on clouds of their own ecstasy;
they don’t want it to end.
I smile to myself and let the beat send
me to another place, a world where
the music envelops me, my electric blue hair
flying as the melody courses through me;
in the turmoil of the mob, I find peace.
The strobe lights flashing in time
remind me of my place in life.
I go back to the music,
its melody an intrinsic
part of my soul.
The leaves of these plants aren’t soft and forgiving;
They slash my skin as I tear through the undergrowth.
Thorns shred my clothing and dig deep into my skin,
Drawing more blood.
The flowers’ only beauty is in their deadliness;
The trees creak forebodingly, threatening to smother me.
The grass is a blanket of razors, painful to step on.
And that’s only the flora.
The fauna are even worse.
Eyes peer at me through the destructive leaves;
Shadows lurk in the inky blackness, waiting for a chance to strike.
The buzzards circle menacingly over me, waiting for my inevitable collapse.
This forest is a prison, trapping my body and mind.
I can’t escape this place; I can’t escape my fear.
Teacher is Student as Mother is to Daughter
To my teacher,
who mentored me those many years.
I have no way to thank you for what you’ve done.
You opened my eyes to a new world,
One I should leave, but I don’t want to.
To my teacher,
who met with me over lunch
to discuss our latest theories. Theories that could’ve changed the world.
The food on the table was the fuel for the machines we called our brains.
(Not the best food, mind you. Oatmeal—are you crazy?)
The lessons I learned are serving me well;
I hope that was your wish.
And I’m passing that knowledge alon to others;
What can I say, I’m a giver.
The time we spent together was among the best of my life.
I’d spend the day studying and run to you to explain the harder things.
I remember how begrudgingly I left the library for that first field assignment,
feeling like I’d been taken away from something I loved.
But that experience changed my life.
I learned more on that one day than a week in the library.
And I realized that’s’ what you were preparing me for,
All those years, guiding me, just to show me the real world.
To my teacher,
whose influence was magical;
whose love was life-changing.
These are all poems I wrote over the course of a semester in a creative writing class. I decided early in the poetry unit to use ponies as my main inspiration for every poem we turned in, then to tell the teacher at the end of the class. More on her reaction later. But I did meet two other bronies in this class, which was my first time meeting bronies out in real life.
The difficult part was subtlety. I wanted to leave the poems open to interpretation, unless and until you were familiar with MLP. Cannot unsee...
Below are the class-designated prompts and the inspirations I drew to complete the assignments for those prompts.
Vinyl Scratch
Prompt: Write a poem using rhyme; meter optional.
Inspiration: Vinyl Scratch, obviously. I've always wondered what her story was (I'm working on an actual fanfic about her now). I've never been to rave, so I just sort of imagined what it's like and ran with it. A guy in the class who had been to raves in Paris told me he thought I captured it perfectly, and another lady thought I was a DJ myself.
I think this is probably my favorite poem out of these (and thus, it is first). Also, when this poem was being workshopped, I couldn't look at the other bronies in the class because we had just met and I explained the poem. That was a fun class...
Shrunken
Prompt: Write a poem from an altered perspective.
Inspiration: Human in Equestria? Too manestream. So what pony experiences an altered perspective? Applejack! I used the effect that Poison Joke took on her to achieve this "altered perspective." Alright, so this one's not that great, I admit. It was also the first poem of the semester, which is probably why it won't be winning any awards anytime soon.
Yeah Applejack! WOOOOOOooooo *crash*
This is no Sunny Glade
Prompt: Write a poem based on a piece of art.
Inspiration: Despite what you may think, this one was pretty hard to find inspiration for. Now not only did the poem have to vaguely allude to ponies, so did the art piece. The name of the game was "subtlety." Luckily, I had a friend to help me out. Famosity painted a picture called 'Plants'. It's a kind of abstract piece based on the Everfree forest, which gave me something great to work with.
Plants
Teacher is to Student as Mother is Daughter
Prompt: Write a letter poem.
Inspirations: Hm...letters...let's think...who could we possibly use for a letter poem. Twilight, can you think of anypony?
So this wasn't your typical letter to Celestia. I wanted it to be a more personal, uplifting letter than just a friendship report. The rest pretty much speaks for itself.
So there you go.
Oh! Right, the teacher's reaction.
Me and the two bronies in the class were the last to leave the classroom one particular night. We were discussing MLP, using only terms bronies would understand, and were speaking rather excitedly.
The teacher turned and gave us a strange glance. "What are you all talking about?"
One of the bronies hung his head. "You don't wanna know..." he replied.
Our other companion took a more head-on approach. "Yeah, we're bronies," he said bluntly.
"We're fans of the show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic," I explained to her.
Her jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"
I nodded and continued. "Also, I think you should know that every poem I've written this semester was inspired by ponies."
She threw her head back and shouted "Everything I know about reality is wrong!!"
I shit you not, that was her reaction. She was kind of dramatic...
And there you have it. More poems may follow, I'm not sure yet.
When once on ants I used to gaze, I thought them undeserving.
Now, on their level,
I can see why they scamper, like refugees fleeing a coming storm.
Their paths are unstructured races,
Contestants running whatever course pleases them.
With such large amounts of resources available, they scarcely have time
To gather them all.
Orchards, whose fruit I used to buck with ease,
Tower over me;
One lone leaf acts as a tent,
Sheltering me from the sweltering midday heat.
And a single apple is enough food for a day.
Friends I once walked side-by-side with
Carry me everywhere.
My sinewy muscles cannot contend with these exaggerated distances.
My once great strength reduced to a withered flower,
Utterly useless on a scale such as this.
I feel so helpless; I hate having to rely on others.
In this state,
There’s so little I can do.
But I’ll have the cure soon enough, and then,
I swear by the stars, I’ll have my revenge.
