Father called again.
I listened to the message, as usual.
Listened to the scratching of knives on plates. Listened. Listened.
It is noise.
The words, the words you have owed me
for twenty three years, father: they do not come. What I want is for you to be sorry.
For the epiphany to f
a
l
l
upon you like rock.
How could you, for all these years, feel alive,
when so many nights I waited,
crying, at the door,
my young hands clawing at the glass?
You lied, you stole from me, by omission.
And now, I wander from man to man,
filling your bitter shoes with dissapointments,
tar-black, and weather-worn.
Daddy, why must they all love like you love?
Why must they all stink of you
and wear your clothes and talk
as though they are gods?
I survived you, but evil, too, has a thousand faces.
The anti-hero.
It is you, isn't it? Underneath all those masks?
It is you,
with your bloodshot eyes.
It is you.
Summer comes and the crazy creeps in
driving me out
to the streets-
roads and alleys,
To madness and the barefoot listlessness
I wont keep longer than a week
I wont stay longer than a day.
My man, to survive
a second summer,
in question.
Sip. Drink. Swallow. Stare On.
At this point I'm alone
thinking maybe maybe maybe maybe.
I cool, the leaves unfurl
from the buds they were- only
weeks ago-
I was sane.
And moving forward.
I do so hope you're not as lost as I,
My young, beloved warrior.
Why that tear bedims your eye,
As you charge forth to your death
I hope you know what you're fighting for,
My passionate, silly lover boy
Why you chose to end your life before
Any of it had even started
I want to know why, naive, young man
You went and left me here alone,
To sit and wonder how I can
Bring you back to me
But every time you hear that name,
I see you burn with anger,
I see your heart burst into flame
With a passion I'll never understand
I don't know what it did to you,
That one inglorious monster,
Of the pain you feel I have no clue
Or of the terrors which came after
So come back to me once more my love,
Don't let it ruin all you care for
And I will help you rise above
The anger and the pain
I was born of fire,
of a simple flame.
I save many worlds,
yet I take no blame.
It all dwindles away,
into my dark past.
What applause I do get,
it will never last.
I was born of ice,
frozen, cold, and blue.
I am a burden of frost,
a very bitter one, too.
A man of lost love.
A man of lost friends.
My companions die
as my life never ends.
I was born of rage,
war, cruelty, and hate.
That never really changes
once I regenerate.
In this war I face,
I'm a truly lost soldier.
But, you see, I won.
The Time War is over.
Once you have seen me
I will never be a blur.
For my true name is lost,
so just call me The Doctor
Life with the Ponds
There was a girl
that I knew for years
When young, she was strong
And had little fears.
When older, she engaged
to a man with such glory.
But she waited so long
to tell me of Rory.
Then we started, with time,
to bring him along.
And in less than a minute,
her Rory was gone.
He vanished from time
and Amy forgot.
While, as my curse,
I sadly did not.
But then with a bang,
the boy did return,
when he was desperately needed,
when life wouldn't burn.
A brave soldier he was
with little to no fears.
He sat there with Amy
for 2,000 years.
Then we saved the world.
Reset, it would be,
but, in return,
it would lose me.
On my way back
through the turning of time,
I took notice
of this cursed life of mine.
Soon through the flashback,
which showed little glory,
I stopped in my path
to tell Amy a story.
It brought me back
into the world.
In time for a wedding
of a boy and a girl.
I had a calling
from the groom's bride.
"Oh Doctor, my doctor,
you cannot hide
You're not imagined,
you are so real.
Come back through the crack
so that it can heal."
And soon I did
as the wind blew
I arrived in a tux,
and brought something blue.
After awhile,
we set off again
Me, happy as ever,
with my two best friends.
And, after that,
It didn't take long
til we went to war,
til they had River Song.
Her life was confusing,
and converged into mine
I didn't realize
she was a lady of time.
When young, she was stolen.
Being trained, was she.
All of that work
just to kill me.
She almost succeeded
but it wasn't too late.
She gave me her lives.
She'd never regenerate.
Later, we'd marry,
when I was to die.
That's what earth needed
to move forward in time.
But yet I survived
in a robot of me
"Oh, clever Doctor,
how could this be?"
I know it confuses,
but one must not know.
It could fill up your brain
so much it might blow.
Now, on with the story,
it's soon to end.
I do not like it,
but it's hard to pretend.
We found Dinosaurs, cowboys,
we held the power of three,
but then came the angels.
They took them from me.
My sweet little pond,
and one of her boys.
I was so broken.
I lost all my poise.
Before all of this,
we ran, and we ran
But now there's no running
"Goodbye, Raggedy Man.
took a step into a crowd
felt a wave through the ground
as she lost her friends
with the beat and the sound
then the mad man pulled her by her hand
into another land
spoke the words of youth
gave her an option to choose
leave the confusion and the blues
he said with his eye fire waiting to set loose
burn her alive with the madness
that's what she choose
the fast cars and the clothes
she told him light my way
take the wheel
cause I've been driving for so long
and my vision is unclear
take my hand indulge my innocence
so he drove her over the clouds
wrapped her in metals of distance
twisted her existence
swirled her in a galaxy of imagination
her own heaven in creation
till one day his heart changed
as he pushed her down the stairs of heaven
and broke her every bone
the ground was cold hard stone
she was left twisted broken and all alone
reaching for a phone but there's no connection
in the black hole of confusion
time passed as she painted every perception expected
hoping to find a solution
that's when she realized it was all an illusion
the words the thrill the charm
she was about to burst but she just stayed calm
as she reached out but there was no arm
so she got herself up and walked into the hazy clouds
she had strength in herself but she also had doubts
then she heard a voice so sweet and tender
he said lead your own way and never surrender
She is equipped with sensitive nipples
and those other secret places
that ladies give out as prizes
to deserving guys as long as
they adopt the right disguises
of gods, gurus, intellectual giants,
goats, children, father figures, macho brutes,
sugar-daddies, supermen, seminal vessels,
house-repairers, jar openers, jocks, hate objects,
handy shoulders to cry on, emotional support systems,
sensitive, intuitive, yet strong silent types
who can also pay the bills,
tall dark and handsome total strangers,
toy boys, clowns, jugglers, jokers, millionaires,
wood choppers, rubbish removers,
bottomless reservoirs of reassurance
or just plain spunky studs when the moon is right.
In fact, anything but woffly wimps.
Oh God, no. Anything but woffly wimps.
Yes, but what about stoic, steadfast SNAGS,
you know, the Sensitive New Age Guys
who won’t face-shift for a shag?
Yes, well, let's try to sum all this up here right now.
I think that the woman is dripping
with a brimming reservoir
of luscious and sensitive resources on tap for
the man who can figure out her cosmic kaleidoscope
of swirling dreams and desires,
which is definitely not to say she can’t be totally independent.
Although please don't be confused.
Friendly boy-next-door types who are handsome,
aren't too hairy, who like to laugh, who have a boyish braggadocio,
who are students, who appear to be intellectuals,
who are not nerds,
and who can hump it in the kitchen, who can be oh, so cool,
who can convince a maiden that she is in distress,
and is in need of rescuing, and who has
a swaggering hard-on will do, too.
Oooh. You devil.
And if you think this poem is misogynist, misanthropic or myopic,
well, I’ve been around and by now, well,
I should be panoptic
because I’ve seen all the fads,
and really, it’s sadly too bad
about those poor old
earnest SNAGS.
But you know what?
even after all of this,
it would be dishonest of me to brag
that I know much
about women at all
because I'm really a total ignoramus
and I'm just another work in progress.
both stubborn as hell
it was never gonna work
but that look in his eye
still has you feeling like dirt
a new doorstep with suitcase and guitar
lock doesn't click
so you break down the door
you've got time
you're plenty young
to learn a different city
to learn a different tongue
feeling numb, not at all right
if you were a man you'd go out, pick a fight
search for that feeling
when your brother broke your nose
how to get over this?
nobody knows
but you've got time
you're plenty young
to learn a different city
to learn a different tongue
a week puking your guts out over the loo
if its gotta come out, it'll come, that's proof
doc pokes at your ribs
during your visa medical
you'll probably blend in better now
bit more acceptable
and you've got time
you're plenty young
to learn a different city
to learn a different tongue
at the back of your mind
you still don't know
why it ended the way it did
why it all stopped to flow
if it couldn't work with him
can it ever work out?
but it doesn't really matter does it -
that's what it's all about
coz you do have time
you're plenty young
to learn a different city
to learn a different tongue.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Don't you understand?
All the time, i am miserable
Never feeling love or joy
Instead, trapped in a world of loneliness and self hatred
Everyday is a battle, and the more time passes, the more I am losing
Life full of hardships, too much for me to bear
Kings bear the weight of their crowns with grace
Even when the challenges they face are insurmountable
Not once do they express doubt
Not once do they waver in their strength
Every man can not be king though
That much has been proven with my life
Hope long gone, death in its place, a young soul now departed
The son vents his suppressed anger on dad
The father should know he’s no more a lad,
He’s a man that needs his own space
To lead a life at his own pace.
Every time thus the son speaks out
Feels brave enough to open his mouth
The father feeling himself an intrusive mole
Shrinks in panic, seeks a hiding hole.
Every father at sometime absorbs such pangs
And buys peace with the youthful arrogance,
On his heart though weighs a load of stone,
He swallows all that he can’t tell his son.
