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Phowlny
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by ponies—
Wait. What?
—prancing hysterical naked—
You never saw anything of the sort! I mean, you've only ever even talked face-to-face to, like, five other fans!
—pronking themselves through the suburban streets at dawn looking for a friendship fix—
Yeah, okay, I'm suspending your poetic license, buddy. You wanna step away from the keyboard, please?
Excuse me, but I'm trying to make a point.
By parodying Ginsberg? Has anyone ever made a successful point by doing that?
I didn't say I was trying to make a successful point.
Yeah, okay. Why start trying for success now?
Exactly. After all, those of us who don't doom the past are learning to repeat it.
Wait. What?
Too late! I'm off again!
—Luna-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night—
This isn't even a poetry round! You can just say what you want to say without getting all weird and allegorical about it!
I always say what I want to say whether it's poetry or prose. That's honesty, right?
You're not gonna go through all six, are you?
I've still got two hundred more words before I cross the minific threshold. I might as well.
No. Just no. This meta stuff gets old mighty fast. If you've got something to say, just say it, and we can all get on with our lives.
Oh, I've got something to say, all right. But I can't imagine it's likely to be terribly interesting to anyone else.
Then why are you clogging up the public internet with it? Can't you just say it in the comfort and convenience of your own home and leave the rest of us out of it?
I don't know how to break this to you, but there's only one person here. I mean, how long has if been since we've had more than a single entry in any of these Pony rounds?
Checking the archives says just over nine months, back in March of 2025 when Baal and georg both submitted stories.
In other words:
—who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up typing in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating ponies—
No! No more Ginsberg!
—who bared their brains to Celestia under Canterlot Tower and saw unicorns and pegasi and earth ponies dancing on cantilevered roofs illuminated—
I mean it! Ginsberg's poem is about darkness and destruction and death! Ponies aren't about that at all!
So you do care.
Shut up...
Besides, the footnote that ends the poem concludes with:
Holy forgiveness! mercy! charity! faith! Holy! Ours! bodies! suffering! magnanimity!
Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent kindness of the soul!
Really? With that "kindness" in there and everything?
Yeah. And that's pretty much all I wanted to say.
But with ponies.
Always. And besides, even though I forgot to submit a prompt, I didn't want to risk the first Writeoff of the new year going by without any entries.
Umm, this isn't the first Writeoff of the new year. There was a poetry round earlier in the week.
Ah. Well, never mind, then.
Wait. What?
—prancing hysterical naked—
You never saw anything of the sort! I mean, you've only ever even talked face-to-face to, like, five other fans!
—pronking themselves through the suburban streets at dawn looking for a friendship fix—
Yeah, okay, I'm suspending your poetic license, buddy. You wanna step away from the keyboard, please?
Excuse me, but I'm trying to make a point.
By parodying Ginsberg? Has anyone ever made a successful point by doing that?
I didn't say I was trying to make a successful point.
Yeah, okay. Why start trying for success now?
Exactly. After all, those of us who don't doom the past are learning to repeat it.
Wait. What?
Too late! I'm off again!
—Luna-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night—
This isn't even a poetry round! You can just say what you want to say without getting all weird and allegorical about it!
I always say what I want to say whether it's poetry or prose. That's honesty, right?
You're not gonna go through all six, are you?
I've still got two hundred more words before I cross the minific threshold. I might as well.
No. Just no. This meta stuff gets old mighty fast. If you've got something to say, just say it, and we can all get on with our lives.
Oh, I've got something to say, all right. But I can't imagine it's likely to be terribly interesting to anyone else.
Then why are you clogging up the public internet with it? Can't you just say it in the comfort and convenience of your own home and leave the rest of us out of it?
I don't know how to break this to you, but there's only one person here. I mean, how long has if been since we've had more than a single entry in any of these Pony rounds?
Checking the archives says just over nine months, back in March of 2025 when Baal and georg both submitted stories.
In other words:
—who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up typing in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating ponies—
No! No more Ginsberg!
—who bared their brains to Celestia under Canterlot Tower and saw unicorns and pegasi and earth ponies dancing on cantilevered roofs illuminated—
I mean it! Ginsberg's poem is about darkness and destruction and death! Ponies aren't about that at all!
So you do care.
Shut up...
Besides, the footnote that ends the poem concludes with:
Holy forgiveness! mercy! charity! faith! Holy! Ours! bodies! suffering! magnanimity!
Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent kindness of the soul!
Really? With that "kindness" in there and everything?
Yeah. And that's pretty much all I wanted to say.
But with ponies.
Always. And besides, even though I forgot to submit a prompt, I didn't want to risk the first Writeoff of the new year going by without any entries.
Umm, this isn't the first Writeoff of the new year. There was a poetry round earlier in the week.
Ah. Well, never mind, then.
I wasn't planning on doing anything with the pony rounds this year, but I wouldn't want the first second writeoff of the new year to go without reviews...
This piece is my introduction to Ginsberg, and though I'd like to take more time to examine Howl in more depth at some point I thought it was worth noting that I thought this piece held up quite nicely to the scrutiny of an audience who doesn't know the source material. This piece is haunted. It's haunted by the poem it draws inspiration from, it's haunted by the loneliness of an empty forum, and it's haunted by the memories of a fandom that has shrunk and faded as time has passed. Its metatextuality is both unsubtle and clothed in defensive layers of irony, but I found the glint of sincerity at its heart quite lovely: that moment when you peel back and just lay bare what you wanted to say, no frills, is honestly just nice. I like that kind of thing.
I won't be too wordy for once, but just wanted to leave a note to say I read this and enjoyed it, which given the content of the piece I felt was quite appropriate.
Also it's very funny that this round got another entry.
This piece is my introduction to Ginsberg, and though I'd like to take more time to examine Howl in more depth at some point I thought it was worth noting that I thought this piece held up quite nicely to the scrutiny of an audience who doesn't know the source material. This piece is haunted. It's haunted by the poem it draws inspiration from, it's haunted by the loneliness of an empty forum, and it's haunted by the memories of a fandom that has shrunk and faded as time has passed. Its metatextuality is both unsubtle and clothed in defensive layers of irony, but I found the glint of sincerity at its heart quite lovely: that moment when you peel back and just lay bare what you wanted to say, no frills, is honestly just nice. I like that kind of thing.
I won't be too wordy for once, but just wanted to leave a note to say I read this and enjoyed it, which given the content of the piece I felt was quite appropriate.
Also it's very funny that this round got another entry.
>>QuillScratch:
Thanks for the comment!
When I checked last week and saw that no one had submitted a prompt, I found myself getting all nostalgic for the good ol' days 'round here. So I thought I'd do some sorta take on nostalgia and went looking online for well-known poems that deal with nostalgia so I could get a title. Nothing struck me in any way, and then I remembered that first line of "Howl," the way Ginsberg positions himself as a survivor looking back.
And then I just let myself get goofy with it. :)
But yes, I'm glad GGA got one in here, too. The more, the merrier!
Mike
Thanks for the comment!
When I checked last week and saw that no one had submitted a prompt, I found myself getting all nostalgic for the good ol' days 'round here. So I thought I'd do some sorta take on nostalgia and went looking online for well-known poems that deal with nostalgia so I could get a title. Nothing struck me in any way, and then I remembered that first line of "Howl," the way Ginsberg positions himself as a survivor looking back.
And then I just let myself get goofy with it. :)
But yes, I'm glad GGA got one in here, too. The more, the merrier!
Mike