"The Childe...More restless than the swallow in the skies..." -Lord Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Two Pieces for Star Wars Gone By

I. May Nostalgia Be With You



"I had this image of a middle aged guy
reenacting Luke captured by the Wampa...
lamenting his lost youth." 



II. Elegy Written for a Country Space Opera


Twin sunsets fade like knells of parting day,
As whistling droids whir--steadfast--o'er a dune,
The fanboy starward dreams his leery way,
But leaves that world to Disney all too soon.

Now silence cloaks a landscape raised for mirth,
He treads its gravel waves, rock mem’ry spice,
Like one who shirked the moisture farmer’s worth,
Then nearly perished, sown within Hoth’s ice.

For such, the glimm'ring landscape of the night
Fades out, marked by the telling Mynock shrieks,
Save where a vast white screen now waits for light,
To cast again the Falcon fandom seeks.

Can any reprise hope to freshen lore,
Which strikes back with new lessons harder learned?
Son's eyes reflected matching suns before,
Tear-glazed, their father's pyre light returned.

Let not awakened icons wear out joy,
First witnessed as wide grins in Yavin's nave;
Though medaled hero stood then as a boy,
The paths of sequels lead but to the grave.

So too, the fanboy grays into a man,
No more to pilot drive-in playground swings.
His mind a hermitage, this would-be Han
Now smuggles fondness for his old musings.

Full many a boy of Jedi’s worth now lives,
The dark nonfiction caves of this world bear;
Full many a Leia to drubbed Luke now gives
A savior’s kiss in grounded city air.

Far from the cineplex, this rustic youth,
Who read dire word crawls from a pickup bed,
Was led by Ben Kenobi’s tailored truth;
Delusions grand--Yodaic in his head-- 

Forbade by life’s rude lot prequels to pen,
This almost-George, no Empire’s rod did sway;
He left the greatest tale of Anakin
Unwritten long ago and far away.

EPITAPH
“Oh, be wan,” gibes Salacious ‘neath the sand. 
“Would all could rest their heads on Disney’s hearth, 
Who’ve lived within, like each new rebel band, 
The bosom of their Father and their Darth.”


--Jake Christensen, September 2015


Acknowledgments

This elegy is patterned after Thomas Gray’s “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard." http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173564

Special thanks to cartoonist Jay Fosgitt for giving my Elegy an advanced read and adapting the themes in a clever and wonderfully poignant way.

Thanks also to Wookieepedia, for several needed vocabulary refreshers.

4 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. The past does tend to do that to us. Good memories especially. Thank you for visiting, Lisa!

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  2. This is the phone ringing, and it was my childhood calling ;)

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