Three Poems

Kenya Starflight

Yes, I'm obsessed with Star Wars – obsessed enough to write poetry about it. If you've read "The Ballad of Anakin Skywalker," you probably already know this.

This first poem was written in seventh grade, when I was just beginning to get my creative juices really flowing. I needed to write a collection of poetry on various subjects for English, and seeing as I loved Star Wars so much, I wrote the following, my first Star Wars poem.

"A long time ago and far, far away..."

Those famous words still linger today

From the icy wastes of Hoth afar

To the Mos Eisley cantina bar

Droids of every shape and size

Imperial warriors and Rebel spies

Hunters and pirates at every turn

Dagobah's swamps of moss and fern

A young man born of dark and light

Seeks the power of a Jedi Knight

An evil man armored in black

Names like Vader, Solo, Dack

Skywalker, Antilles, Yoda, Fett

Jabba the Hutt and his rancor pet

Aliens, weapons, and planets galore

Massive starships and so much more

We start the tale, we give it a name

The world will never be the same

This second poem was written my junior year of high school, during our poetry unit. My teacher announced that, not only would we read and study poetry, we would write it (cue collective groan from everyone in the class but me) and read it aloud to the class (cue scream of horror from me). Yes, I did end up reading this poem aloud to the class, confirming my status as a geek. (How I can let complete strangers read this on the Internet with no problem but quail in terror at the thought of reading it to my friends is a mystery to me.) By the way, this poem was inspired by my first time watching Star Wars in a theater in 1997.

The sight of him on the screen

The first glimpse of his face

Made my blood pound

Not from fear

But from awe

All instincts screamed villain

But my fascinated eyes replied

Look a little longer

We see more

To this creature

Broad of shoulder and chest

Massive in build and height

Armored in glossy black

Masked in ebony

Cloaked in night

Fierce angular face frozen

In a perpetually undaunted snarl

An indomitable grace to his every move

Dignified, confidant

He fears nothing

I see a regal, powerful figure

Steadfast and courageous

With every appearance

I whisper again

Man he's beautiful

But my musings go ignored

Friends and family demand why

You're crazy – Darth Vader's evil

He's the villain

The dark one

Am I the lone admirer

The rebel of society

Can no one else see

There is beauty

In the beast?

I've always been sympathetic toward Darth Vader, even before I knew he was once a Jedi Knight named Anakin Skywalker. Maybe I have a gothic streak, or maybe it's my personal belief that there's no such thing as a totally bad person. But I have a profound (some may say obsessive) love for the man in the mask, which explains why he is at the center of most of my fics. This poem, written my senior year for no particular reason, reflects on the man so many call villain.

I hear your footsteps

Like the pulse of a dark heart

Hear your breathing

Like hollow wind in an abandoned canyon

You're black as space

Black as night

Black as sorrow

They see the black

Your blackness

They say it reflects your heart

Your soul

Your very core

They say you're evil

They tell me to fear you

They hate you

They fear you

They blanch at the sight

Of the skullish mask you're forced to wear

They don't know the story

Behind the mask

Behind the man behind the mask

The man in black

The man in the steel mask

The man betrayed

A master who maimed you

Body and soul

Two children in agony

Over the cruelty of truth

A forbidden love

Heart shattered by darkness

A man crushed beyond recognition

By the forces of evil

I know your story

I know of you

But I don't know you

You are untouchable

But if I could touch you

Would you recoil

Terrified of destroying me

As you destroyed yourself?

You wear black

But is black the symbol of your evil

Or of something else

Something bitter

Something tender

Something human

Is there any vestige of a heart

Beneath that armor?

Do you weep over your fate?

Do you feel the anguish

Of what you have become?

Could it be you wear your black to mourn?