A poem I wrote about the Weeping Angels, based on what they do when they catch people. Except for a few differences in some lines. Enjoy.
Fandom poetry. Knock yourself out.
A little something for the sake of one true pairing most dear and tragic. One will spend every one of her days in a library, and one will forever be the cause of it. And apart, apart! The tragedy! This is for River and the Doctor, who deserve so much more than that. Standalone, complete.
A poem about the Doctor's sorrow for Rose. (Written by Witty Lady.)
You don't need to be ripped apart by time vortex energy to see the end... A quick poem based on the Doctor and his companions. Not meant to be any particular Doctor, so interpret as you wish!
Cette fanfiction est simplement un répertoire de petits poèmes que j'ai écris pour chacune de mes fanfictions dans le but de la résumer avec l'accrostiche de son titre. C'est poétique, c'est fun parfois, et j'espère que ça vous donnera envie de toutes les lire!
A re-make of a well-known song. The Doctor is alone, but is he? Sometimes they come back.
A short poem about the Doctor and his companions from Rose to Amy
Hello, old friend, and here we are. You and me, on the last page. Yes, I suppose it's time I stop pretending. Eleven has fallen, and I must accept it at some point. So here it is, my coping strategy: a smallish poem that acts as a gravestone for the Eleventh. Heartbreak and horror within. Here the wounds of TTotD are reopened. Be warned of melancholiness and the Ponds.
The Doctor asks Clara the same question, only using some things from all of their (Season 8) adventures. Semi-spoilers, and yes, I suck at summaries.
Sleep little child...
(Written as a "Kill the Moon" companion poem.) In "Kill the Moon", Clara's caught in a terrible dilemma: the Doctor's left the fate of the unknown in her hands, all of humanity disagrees with her, and it seems that only she knows what is just. An offering of illustration and understanding. *Blatant episode spoilers for "Kill the Moon".* Standalone, complete.
There's a man, a wonderer, I've seen him, and he's amazing
Presenting - straight from Clara Oswald's 2013 Christmas special cracker box - the full version of Mr. Eric Richie Junior's "Thoughts on a Clock".
I was in English studying elegies when the last line to this poem popped in my head, and well, it kind of grew from there. This is in the voice of The Doctor right after time war, specifically between meeting Rose and telling her about the Time War. Rating for hints to suicide. It will help you to understand it if you've seen at least some of the classics.
This is a short poem about the Doctor, nine through to twelve, sort of. I am in no way responsible for any tears shed over this poem, it just happens that way. Rated T for dark themes. Dedicated to my friend Sabrina :)
Hatred. It will kill us all in the end. Even you, Doctor. You think you're above it, the hatred. You think it's beneath you. But you Doctor, are beneath the hatred. Hate always wins. So who's side are you on? Pick your side, before it is chosen for you. Their burning hatred will live on for as long as the universe still stands.
For she was alone, yet always with him.
Jack has always loved the Doctor... A poem about Jack and the Doctor. Enjoy! I don't own Doctor Who.
A poem about the Doctor's point of view in Doomsday. Please don't hate me.
The Doctor receives a letter the Master never meant to send. Five/Ainley fluffy oneshot, too cute! R&R!
Fabulous poem I found on the internet about the TARDIS, The Doctor and his companions. Must read. Terrible summary.
In the eyes of the Doctor she is everything. Post The Wedding of River Song. T solely because of language, and it's really only a few words.
Short oneshot poem I wrote about Donna's thought about Journeys End and Doctor Donna
Forgetting, regretting, it's all the same to him. It's what he does – it's all he knows. After all, his destiny is to love and say goodbye. Pablo Neruda inspired. Standalone, complete.
A poem observing River and the Doctor's peculiar, trying, and abstruse relationship. Written with attempted rapport at hand. A study in backwards, impossible, cosmic* love. OTP abound, with respect to the darling Eleventh Doctor. Standalone, complete.
A short poem about finding a place that is remarkably simple, and yet, the most wondrous place in the universe.
The Doctor wonders at what sort of man he is turning into.
Oh, clockwork man, whose face have you now?
His only feelings he could offer.