"cybermen" poems
A bright blue police box spins through the sky
Over 50 years have passed, so no one bothers to ask why.
A Doctor in name, but no medicine dispensed
His adventures defy all common sense.
A Companion is always along for the ride
When the TARDIS lifts off; it’s bigger inside.
Our open-mouthed guide every step of the way
Their first visit extends to a permanent stay
The last of the Timelords or so people say
From a long-distant planet they call Gallifrey
Endlessly loyal with a mind second to none
He has never resolved a dispute with a gun.
He never seems to look the same for more than a few years
A fact that has left some in fits of angry tears
But everyone he’s truly known has felt a deep bond
Just ask Rose, Martha, Donna, Clara, or Amy & Rory Pond
Questioning the world and its traditions, his mind often lingers
On the tasty goodness of custard and fish fingers.
His personality leaves cause for some alienation
But what else can one expect after regeneration?
Friends often follow quickly in his tracks
Like Danny Pink, Madame Vastra, Jenny, & Strax
Otherworldly villains into our imaginations creep
Psychotic snowmen, The Master, Daleks, Cybermen, and unrelenting Angels that Weep
Dinosaurs in London, the Titanic in space
Motorcycles driving up Big Ben fast enough to win a race
Green forests of Sherwood; painting with Van Gogh
He can take us anywhere we want to go
And if when the journey stops your lips begin to quiver
Just breathe deep and imagine the Song of a River
Don’t go off the handle or fly into a rage
Open up a favorite book and tear out the last page.
That way, the stories won’t ever end and we can let them be
Soon another generation will come along to see
How a man whose true name remains unspoken
Can face life’s harshest obstacles and still remain unbroken
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
there are holes in the wall
and water's gushing through:
to drown burning metal souls,
to make them all anew
synapse overload -
sensations and colors running riot
as the world reclaims the burnt-out husks
(never have any eyes seen such beautiful sparks, baby)
dissolving to the dark
while cleansing water permeates each casing
cybermen walked here
the boom-boom-boom-boom of their steps could be heard
echoing through streets where children once played;
now empty silver shells are scattered on the ground
and
a lone man stands over them,
hiding his face from the world
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC