Nope, I’m pretty sure it hasn’t. There might be a line referencing that phrase buried in a poem somewhere, but I don’t think there have been any poems dedicated to it. Good luck with your writing!
A caliginous quadrant may be related to fraternity
For the way that both parties are given to bicker
And the steadfast dedication that goes on for eternity
To be there when they fail, to gloat and to snicker
But truly the relation shared by those waxing pitch
Is far closer to that between a hero and villain,
For they shall follow each other without a hitch
And neither can be by some other man slain.
Each feeds the other, giving them a goal to achieve,
Keeping their swords sharp in their battle of wits
Hatred so strong and so binding, or so I believe,
Should either one die, their partner would have fits.
For as tiring as the black dance can sometimes be
It’s a faerie waltz from which neither wish to be free.
-submitted by mariajharper
It seems like everyone and their mother and their mother’s future-dream-dead-doomed-splinter-paradox-self has some sort of plan in motion for defeating Lord English. But no matter how it goes down, even if multiple plans end up working, someone has to deal the finishing blow. Who will it be, and how will it happen? Well, let’s look at some facts.
This is a long, image-heavy post, so I’m going to put it under a “read more.” I’m also putting it under a “read more” due to gratuitous horse dildo pictures.
Dare you read onward?
Two quick orders of business. First, I want to remind people that my Detective Pony project has its own blog now. I’m still setting it up (and I’m still finishing writing the book, for that matter), so at the moment the blog’s a place for me to experiment with what format I’ll eventually use to release the book when it’s done. I’m interested in any and all feedback people have, and I just posted some new stuff I’m fiddling around with, so give it a look if you’re interested.
Second: the Serenity poem that I wrote ages ago suddenly started making the rounds again today, so I feel like I should once more clarify that the Serenity poem isn’t canon, I wrote it and edited the image (bolded to draw the attention of people who might come to this blog because of that poem). I’m not saying this because I feel like I’m not getting credit for creating it or whatever, but rather because I feel vaguely guilty when people reblog it with comments like “I can’t believe I missed this when I read Homestuck!” or “I totally forgot about this panel” and whatnot. I didn’t create it with the intent to deceive anyone, and I’m sorry that it has confused people. (For that matter, my most recent post (about Harry Anderson’s Wise Guy) seems to have caused some of the same confusion. Maybe I ought to somehow make it more clear that what I’m making are image edits? But I don’t want to use a watermark or put my url on them or anything. I’ll think about this.)
Sorry for the boring post; to make up for it, have a drawing of a sea ape (adapted from one of Andrew Hussie’s old comics) that I was going to use in Detective Pony but couldn’t find a place for:
MY 4NC3STOR’S SH4DOW M4K3S M3 SM4LL,
1 4M NOT R4D 4ND SASSY 4S 1S SH3;
3V3N 1N D34TH 1S SH3 B3LOV3D BY 4LL,
4ND NOT 4 LON3LY, WR3TCH3D G1RL L1K3 M3.
SH3 GR33TS 4LL H3R OLD FR13NDS W1TH H1GH-F1V3S,
4ND LOV3S H3R M4T3SPR1T ‘SP1T3 H1S BROK3N P4N—
L4ST 1 GR33T3D AN OLD FR13ND W4S W1TH KN1V3S,
4ND K33P 4 M4T3SPR1T? 1 DON’T TH1NK 1 C4N.
SO 1 4BSCOND3D TO TH1S LON3LY WOOD,
TO L4M3NT MY F41LUR3S 4S FR13ND 4ND S33R,
BUT 1 4M FOUND OUT BY 4 KN1GHT OF BLOOD!
WHO T3LLS M3 WH4T 1 D1D NOT TH1NK 1’D H34R.
"T3R3ZI", S4YS H3, "YOU’R3 LOV3LY 4S YOU 4R3—
H3R R4DN3SS 1S WOOL TUGG3D O’3R TH31R 3Y3S;
L1K3 GR3Y P41NT ON 4 L4ST1NG GRUBL3G SC4R,
1T COV3RS UP SOM3TH1NG SH3 DOTH D3SP1S3.
"SO H1D3 NOT YOUR F4C3 1N DR4GON’S-HOOD,
NOR BR1NG YOUR P34L1NG C4CKL3 TO 4 LULL!
TH3 P3RSON YOU 4LR34DY 4R3 1S GOOD;
YOU COV3R ONLY WH4T 1S B34UT1FUL.”
4ND TH3N H3’S GON3, B3FOR3 1 COULD R3PLY,
3V3N W3R3 1 NOT LOST ON WH4T TO S4Y;
O K4RK4T, C4NDYBLOOD3D FOOL, WHY
DO3S ON3 OF US 4LW4YS RUN 4W4Y…? >:[
-submitted by dreaminghierophant
"[Y]ou don’t have to ride a pony to love them. And you certainly don’t need a pony to be a Pony Pal." -accomplished author and pansophical haruspex Jeanne Betancourt
(fyi, this is the Detective Pony update I was talking about. Click the image to get to the real announcement in a new tab.)
Not really, no. Sonnets and parodies/imitations of famous poems are what I get most often, but I accept any other format of poem as well. I guess the only limitations are that they should be related to Homestuck, and should be, y’know, poems. Oh, and they should probably be longer than a single haiku, but shorter than a thousand-line epic. Other than that, go nuts.
I try to give the authors as much control over their submissions as possible, so if you have any requests about how I should credit you, what format you’d like it in, if you want a little note at the beginning/end, or anything like that, just let me know. If I think a poem would benefit from it, I’ll sometimes make an image to go with it, but if I do, I’ll run it by the poet for approval before I publish it. I’ll try to fix any typos or punctuation/formatting errors, but even in those cases, I’ll ask the poet for permission before editing a single character. (I’m still bearing a decade-old grudge at the Neopets poetry contest for changing “prophesy” to “prophesize” in one of my poems. It threw my rhyme off, and “prophesize” isn’t even a real word. Freakin’ Neopets.)
One final word about submissions: I’ve got a pretty sizable backlog of them to go through at the moment, and I want to post them in the order they were received. Which means that anything someone submits now probably won’t be show up on the blog for at least a few weeks. I’m familiar with the “did Tumblr eat my ask?” paranoia, though, so don’t hesitate to send me a “did you get it?” message if you’re worried.
Rewrite of “Richard Cory" by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Whenever Karkat Vantas came inside,
We people in the main room looked at him:
He was an angry kid from horn to hide,
Exhausted, and irritatingly grim.
And he was always vexedly portrayed,
And he was always forward when he talked;
But still he provoked tempers when he said,
"JUST FUCK OFF," and he bristled when he walked.
And he was proud—yes, prouder than Condesce,
Until the day came he found the cancer:
In fine, we thought self-hate was defense
To make us resign the search for an answer.
So on we trained, and waited for the fight,
And went without our friends, and cursed their deaths;
And Karkat Vantas, our glib solace in spite,
Took his sickle to his neck with one last breath.
-submitted by msd (no Tumblr account)