Books
Poetry/Lyrics
Essays
Star Wars: A New Hope
Secret plans a princess holds,
give them to the dusty bin.
3-2-1 a plot, you're in!
Desert dust.
Of life, a moisture farmers slice,
a hermit's paradise.
By luck or fate, the bin wheels in.
He's a can can.
Those plans of man, reach Obi-Wan,
a sage, or monk, or something like it.
He, boy Luke and robots bike it,
hire a pilot and a carpet
in a seedy bar and market.
Now, in space, a black face.
Bad Darth Vader,
Never joking.
Kills by choking
or red laser blader.
Bad Darth Vader.
The force, a force, or so it seems,
is like the power found in dreams.
Make things move,
read minds,
see when blind, if you choose it.
Obi, Luke and Vader use it.
In the falcon ('tis a spaceship)
A man made moon, still grey,
grabs the ship and
takes our heroes all away.
Not long there, they flee and fly.
Grab the princess going by,
The pilot likes her, thinks 'Aye Aye'
Obi though,
is dead, a ghost.
A laser sword fight, not a blaster,
with a pupil from his past-a,
it was Darth, now he is master.
Now those who fled turn round instead,
and a rebel army meet.
They plan the battle:
launch the fleet.
It seems the exhaust pipe of the moon thing,
is far too delicate.
Whoever designed that wants strangling.
Luke joins in and down a trench goes.
With the dustbin, fighting all foes.
'Use the force.'
It's Obi calling him of course.
Eyes down.
Go!
Heave ho!
Torpedoes away.
Moon destroyed!
Medals out and evil dead,
Luke was lucky, Obi led,
but Vader fled...
|
