Amy: Who are you?
The Doctor: I don’t know yet. I’m still cooking.
Grease a standard humanoid
lightly brush with Sigmund Freud.
Blanch in Gallifree spirit
that’s laced in some English wit
then add a pinch of Ms Tate
and a dose of Cribbins, wait.
Now, whip up a retriever
a pug and a terrier
Spin around in a blue bowl
until he is a know-it-all
sprinkle with some history
and just a little mystery.
Bake until he is wordy
then decorate with quirky.
twisting and twirling
falling through a deep dark hole
madman with a box
finds poetry in people
sweet song of humanity.
Mm? What’s that my boy?
Ah yes, those indomitable creatures;
those great big sacks of emotions
filled with love, loyalty and passion.
Tumbling through time like great giant snowballs
they added to their wisdom as they passed.
Those prodigious organisms
managed to make sense of
the huge, knotty, nonsensical place
of atoms and matter – their galaxy.
Would you care for a Jelly Baby?
From the day they arrived on their planet
they saw patterns and logic in nothing
filled with curiosity and wonder
the greatest mysteries they’d plunder.
It began in their own Earthian home
they searched and reached to places unknown.
Mm? What’s that my boy?
I’m sorry. So sorry. I should have said
but at the end of time humanity is dead.
Alone in the churchyard I watch
mortals mourning in tears and flowers.
Leaning against a rowan tree
abandoned by my family.
Beneath my feet a girl is weeping
I open my arms and kneel down
In surprise, she looks up at me
screaming like a startled crow.
She runs back through the stone and grass
reaching out to her, I follow
She turns to me – her eyes are cold
and zap – she’s now in the past.
Falling through time – I am weeping;
my eyes hidden behind grey fingers.
Left within eternal sleeping
this is where my Winter lingers.
Sometimes I think you came from old Mondas
Your exteriors so fine, black and sleek.
I find you blunt, painful, frustrating, and crass
Yet you’re with me every day of the week.
Time is an illusion, when you’re around
Everything seems to happen instantly.
Nothing is ever lost, your portal makes it found
Whatever you do, you do it brilliantly.
Our world is full of regeneration
Yet every character remains on stage
It’s not math, just a time stream equation
That our lives our branded on history’s page.
So when you go to upgrade and refresh
Just remember your software knows you best!
Authors Notes:
*Mondas is a fictional planet. The home of the Cybermen – fictional characters in the Doctor Who series. Whovians I am sure (and really hope) will understand the reference.
Charlie Ann Alford 