Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Bow ties are cool.

written by Ava Emasova aka faerielover

 So, if you are a Whovian you know what this title means. I'll be rambling about the Doctor. Eleventh Doctor, to be precise. Yes. I'm a nerd. Sort of.
Am I going to start each post with "so"? Quite possibly. That's not important. This is important::
The Doctor's not the one to miss the obvious thing. And the obvious thing is that bow ties are cool. 
Another obvious thing is that I'll fall in love with each and every reincarnation {Um. Can I call regenerationed Doctor that?} of Doctor that comes along, apparently. There's no helping me. I've seen him dance.
In case you were wondering, this song is here because:: "I waved my hands and flapped about..." I'm pretty sure she's seen Eleven dance, which then inspired this song.

[pic found here:: x]

And here's a little song he could dance to::

The Doctor is magical, wonderful, tragic.
He's scary, amazing, merciful, and wary.
He runs, he solves, he saves, he lies.
He fights, he smiles and rarely cries.
He does all these things with style,
always wearing a cool hat or bow tie.
He loves the universe, but most of all his friends.
He'll give the bad guys a second chance.
But not everyone can be saved,
especially when it's the choice they've made.
So the Doctor bears his weight through space,
carries his guilt in a blue boxed suitcase. 
It travels with him wherever he goes,
Time can be rewritten, but more often it's not.

I think I'll leave it at this. For now. 
xoxo
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2 comments:

  1. Raven MeadowesDecember 2, 2012 at 8:27 PM

    I just couldn't help myself but leave you an incoherent word or few seeing as this post combines a couple of my favourite things together, such as Doctor Who, quality musicians and last but not least - my favourite fandom poet. And there she goes, she strikes again with yet another splendid piece of poetry.

    It's well phrased, complete with idiosyncrasies worthy of the Doctor himself, filled with lovely bits and pieces (such as bow-ties and cool hats); and suddenly changing its course and escalating into something a tad dismal and tragically beautiful. And with its final verses, you've reduced me to sobbing a pile of mush.

    "So the Doctor bears his weight through space,
    carries his guilt in a blue boxed suitcase.
    It travels with him wherever he goes,
    Time can be rewritten, but more often it's not."

    Quick, someone fetch me a tissue, my eyes are leaking.

    Once again, you've surpassed all of my expectations. And the only thing I can do right now is leave this comment to let you know how much I've appreciated and enjoyed reading it (along with laertena's silly gif of a dancing Doctor, gorgeous bow-ties and your ramblings about Eleven)
    xoxox

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