Best Tardis Poems
I’m a secret watcher of Dr. Who, but now you know, and his tardis is bigger on the inside as the cult following knows. So much philosophy, such as we look much smaller on the outside. It is as if “The Doctor” lives inside his brain as do us poets always imagining something greater...something bigger. And yet we can also reduce something to its smallest component and expound it. We look at a seed, climb inside its shell and see the universe. We keep walking in and out of our world, amazed at its nonconformity to our idea of reality. We see a box, color it blue...just blue the teacher says as she points with a ruler and slams down hard on your knuckles. Persnickety self says “black and blue.” The teacher points “out” and you gladly climb back into your roomy cocoon. A butterfly emerges with Queen Alexandra wings that land on the teachers hair, taunting her, beating her at her game of “inside the lines.”
11/5/2018
TIME MACHINE
We always try to build a TARDIS,
in thinking we would look the smartest.
But then, who's time would we travel in,
with a choice for dimensional spin.
A fragrance can take us back in time,
or a perfect shade, or taste of lime.
Our famed music is a time machine,
in compositions from Bach to Queen.
We recognize how to bring time to a halt,
by following our bliss in things we exalt.
New experiences will let us foresee,
advancing in time with our visions to be.
The Hubble is a magical eye on time,
to take the photographs of our one verse rhyme.
A brief look backwards beginning now to then,
or from nothing to something and back again.
Our future is such addictive dope,
we read in tea leaves or horoscope.
We expect we are aware with ESP,
and predict in life what's meant to be.
We're back in time with old photographs,
that mark pasts, in graphic epitaphs.
A sound will transport us to a place,
with one vibration we've moved in space.
We future trek with our imaginations,
because we see forward with our creations.
In our minds eye, we consider and admire,
with envisioned futures of our hearts desire.
By TARDIS, DeLorean, or a Quantum Leap,
Tesseract, CERN, and our Visions in sleep.
Through a Wormhole or the traces of a déjà vu,
the past and the future, are present with you.
By Edlynn Nau
©June 23, 2016
You are the hummer beside me at Carmen
The source of BO on the airplane
A loudmouth divulging the plot at a movie
And the noisy drunk at the concert I saved for all year
You are the Gilligan on my island.
You are the pop quiz in Organic Chem
And the idiot doing 48 in the fast lane
You're the spider I found in my salad
After I'd already eaten half of it
You are the Yoko in my Beatles.
You are the rain on my wedding day
And the fleas on my dog
You are the virus infecting my computer
And the cop writing tickets in the desert at 3 am
You are the Dalek in my TARDIS.
You are neither friend nor lover
Yet you never go away.
It seems my fate you'll follow me
Until my dying day.
she's in the whoosh
feel her span through time
it's all relative
across dimensions
and into space
bigger on the inside
smaller to the seeing eye
walk around her
you'll see
but step inside
and the venture begins
she's an old girl
stuck in the form of boxy blue
past her prime yet still as sturdy
she'll dematerialize at will
speeding through rifts
explore her corridors and discover her anew
enter other realms, pasts and futures
she's been at the beginning and to the end of time
her companions many
yet the one who's steady is a mysterious man
one called Dr
but no one knows Who
except her for they've been together through ages
only to get to say hello toward the end
she's a reliable old girl
who's traveled many worlds
she's seen thing and heard tings
you'll know her by the sound of her whoosh
as she comes and goes.
Time
Altering
Dr
In
Space
"... what I said is, I am the Artist, Who Shares..."
More heart than you could ever imagine
And alive with a beautiful vision
My passion is compassion
And my gifts are for giving
"... in the light of right sight..."
There is more to sharing
than you can envision
the lives we can touch
with a voice of caring
a chorus of love
and it's free...
"...for just believing..."
"... what I said was, The Tardis... and I'm the heir..."
Much more on the inside than you could ever imagine...
and Siriusly sweet with a passion
The juice in my Driver
is a River in tune
"... light speed isn't quite
what you envision..."
but it's faster than a broom
I'd say
And a smoother ride too,
you can cruise
on the inside and choose
any mind for a wind
you can be
and you can find
any one thing
in any amount of time...
I figure all you'd need
are the keys
and these,
appear
to be
mine...
"... screwdrivers are outdated
to traveling time
any way..."
By twilight we shall reach Torchwood
to spy on an insane time lord
let's delete him
then send him
straight to Mt. Erebor
then knock out a lowly hobbit,
kidnap him
and toss him in the Tardis
Once he wakes up
we take a step back
to see what happens next!
Giant ornaments like tumbleweeds, like eye popping bubbles, boisterously released in London streets. Like giant lightweight bowling balls that cavort out of their lanes. The breeze plays volleyball, indeterminate who’s winning. The kids’ winning for sure. Follow the bouncing baubles, unravelling revelation of holiday spirit. Celebration in the streets off to a fa-la-la start.
If this was an episodic Doctor Who, those orbs would mean trouble’s steamrolling in. The tardis’ on high alert. It’s always London! The doctor’s enigmatic scrutiny of exploding rounds and Santas showing up. They’ve weapons too. Watch out! Don’t worry! The Doctor will save you.
11/3/2022
How offensive that must’ve felt!
I’m seated after having said this in bewailment like an ox
Not thinking of the grandeur but of her buttocks
Gloriously, as an ambler, I lift the embargo on this thought
Not letting myself to be aghast at the sight of it but almost orgiastic
Don’t judge, don’t jump the gun, as it is all onomastic!
Stop sucking on this life’s debris like Cleopatra while tormenting her men
It just happened that I disrupted my benevolence, infuriated
Like a militant tumour that marches through a brain engaged in flagellate
Like a Parisian who did not have time to enjoy his glass of wine
When an image of Darwinian-Judeo-Christianity arose as a subset of sexuality!
Or, to be frank, as the moment I exude the last drop of piety before my Harlot.
Whatever it takes, and as degenerative as any revolution
Or as imaginative as any repressive fiction of elementary metaphors
Whatever it takes, in this character of aggression
Even if you consult your palmistry experiences cloaked in panic and objection
As peremptory as it may sound, this isn’t a sonnet of subsequent lucidity,
But an ode to a virago of the Amazonian substance and the Socratesian integrity.
I am not going to abort anything that may appal nor will I
Strain at a gnat and swallow a camel!
Oh, my Command-Dante, here I come,
Interwoven in the postures of the nudity seen in Medici Chapel
Inflexible as Colossus, said I gruffly while holding a horn
Almost with this mercurial temperament that creates a moon man
Exuberant in the moments of severe solitude
Supported and loved perhaps only by a claque of virtual entities
That never existed but were a part of an imaginative huffiness, Trumpian like!
Give me the Tardis and without a sign of hesitation I will pick Hellenic Egypt
To be able to hedonistically squander every natural law,
Bright or bleak in an image of a modern freak.
I often feel that my life was raped by a not so courteous, not so kind circumstance.
(to be continued...)
Barren solitude
11/08/2018
My bleeding heart aches alone,
As I wander through life’s chaos
On this lonely planet I call home.
Mind travels like I’m in the Tardis,
Leaping planets I’m a fallow mess.
A stone rolling shrouded in moss,
Desperately alone searching the unknown.
Night wrinkles on dim hangers;
bell-bottom pants
two-toned platform shoes
a wide `kipper' tie.
In a pocket
a crumpled Kodachrome -
hot pants and velvet neck-choker.
‘Who is she?’
This closet is a time machine
I exited decades ago.
Dreaming hands part a frilled dress shirt
from its sky-blue tuxedo.
A stripy tank-top.
dances badly to ‘Brown Sugar’
damn you Mike Jagger
you created a monster.
There’s a rum and coke stain
floating like a ghost
through fading threads.
Time, now exhausted,
falls back onto a pillow
the wardrobe trembles like a Tardis
then disappears
into its blue police box
where every garb ever worn
still fits.
Who are you?
I am a hairy hippy, I glitter,
and Jesus Christ is still a Super Star.
She’s a sexy girl who won’t let me sleep.
Wire hangers rattle in the dark
a metallic laughter.
Nerves jiggle restless legs.
don’t
blink
or else
the gravel
will harden your sight -
victory of weeping angels.
the waterfall of tears - Niagara iced over.
beware foreboding avarice of twilight, capricious wings, ferocious-flying fangs
Who
might
find you
(The Doctor)
but will she be late?
panic hears the tardis wheezing
the quantum-locked humanoids cover their eyes to hide
from a powerful wake of provoked anger, a cold sober time lord busts their veneer
…speaking different languages
do you think we might have the capacity within the brain to speak every language
Now, did, eye.mean, coma
Shap rep
Bee May
After June
Coming the other weigh
Weight
Wait watt
I am kinda hoping this is someone else’s dream
and everything begins to fade
If the Brian is so clever
Y didn’t give itself a better name
I like America but in these poverty stricken days
They should stop Elon letting off fireworks
Before I die I hope I see Kermit as President
Fozzie as the vice
His first act to make bestiality legal
Did game controllers get there influence from atop
the Teletubbies head
What would the first question you would ask if another voice started talking inside
If I read a dictionary have I read every book ever written
It looked like a crevice
It’s orange glow tendrilled it’s way over
the jagged undulating rock face
Behind thin strand of twisted iron ore stood a misshape each of its limbs holding
some torturous medieval weapon.
The keeper of the key
a sub demon
with only one purpose
let the souls pass
I am really gonna spoil his day
Let me explain
Exampling my Brian
So I saw a picture while I was writing this
and that last bit was what I thought
then this bit is me explaining that
Escape a differ cult
It was easy
See if thought doesn’t come from within but
without you then who are we speaking to inside
If time doesn’t exist are we always late or always early
If you say Doctor Who backwards it sounds like the Tardis taking off
Hands up how many of you tried to make it fit
Brian tire go now
'' Eating Carrots Aid Night Vision''
Carrots are for those who hunger,
For what will satisfy right now.
Whether blind, half blind or just blinkered.
We all have needs to be fulfilled.
Words of truth may shake foundations,
No bad thing! when the build’s on sand.
Those golden roots they lay deep down.
Store them with care, keep them all dry,
They’ll be used in time to dine the many.
When the famine looms, they’ll fill a gap.
May they inspire still simple desires,
A challenge to the innards of Tardis
Proverbs 29:18