OK - here is proof positive that I have lost my mind, because, up to this point in my life, I have NEVER voluntarily submitted a work of poetry - and only poetry - for anyone to peruse.

But I jotted this down a while back - and it just keeps coming back to haunt me.

So here it is - and if you wish to poke fun, at least smile when you post your sarcastic comments.

As will be immediately obvious, I make not a single dime for such an effort.

Oh - and you'll note that this is a generic Jedi - no name brand. But then again, I doubt a name is needed.

* * * * * * * * *
One Jedi

Amid the mundane, the prosaic, the dust-to-dust small souls,
In the cacophony of voices lifted, screeching, blended, incomprehensible,
There grows a stillness-perfect, timeless, bell-pure.
When all is fragments of existence, and splinters of reality,
Raucous in repulse of all things related,
One simple completion rising among the shards
Steals the breath and clouds the mind.
Sweet, pure, a melody of unsurpassed eloquence
Penetrates the solitary soul as shafts of sun
Pierce the dawn-pulsed shroud of night.
One - in and of himself - one.
Independent of the scattering of discarded visions,
Whole, unflinching, focused, fearless, flawless, found
Not wanting - entire, a finished work.
In the realm of shattered being and frantic particles,
The man who is, is a titan among mites,
A colossus striding through swarms of gnats.
Here is no ephemeral, celestial music of the spheres;
Here are trumpets exulting in sheer volume;
Here is percussion, discounting minor counter rhythms.
Here such poignant beauty, unexpected,
Impossible to foresee,
Storms the senses, and quickens the spirit
To unprecedented, painful awareness;
Perfection too painful to behold
Without risk of being impaled by perception,
And the certainty, slow to rise,
That glimpses of the flicker of primal starburst
Carry a cost too dear to be borne by poor mortals.
He is philosopher and peacemaker and poet;
Will o' the wisp, wanderer, and warrior;
He is music and drama and sweet, slow passion - it's what he does;
And what he is.
Wherever he walks or speaks or pauses
He collects eyes and hearts and spirits;
And he proceeds, unaware of the detritus that trails him.
The nimbus of luminescence is always with him,
Though not always visible to eyes dimmed
By a death of slow dissolving and the finite march of days;
And never visible to him.
He doesn't know, you see;
He doesn?t stand outside himself to see.
In a world gauging character
By the depth of the pocket, the size of the manhood,
Or the total of conquests and coup,
He neither counts nor measures
And expresses judgment only in the richness
And depth and melodic abandon of his laughter.
He wears his image easily,
Unaware that it conceals as much as it reveals,
Allowing only glimpses of the child
Residing still within the framework of the man.
Clad in denim and black leather,
Or sandy linen and russet wool,
Bright hair darkened and rank with sweat,
Face daubed with a rorschach of oil and grease,
Beneath a three-day growth of stubble;
Hands plunged deep in the guts of the machine-of-the-moment,
Body moving in sensuous cadence with the howl of dark rhythms,
Or the crystal complexity of bright harmonies,
Booted feet not quite keeping time,
Wiping a dripping brow on the sleeve of a dingy shirt,
Eyes squinted against curling smoke,
He is quintescentially male,
Wrapped in the scent and sensuality
And silken whisper of flexing sinews
And the sibilance of the pulse of blood
Surging through veins and chambered heart.
Of the dozens or hundreds who blindly hurry past,
Rushing to catch the next pale wraith of life on the carousel,
Who move unaware through the glow he generates,
Only one - maybe two - will hesitate;
Will note that something extraordinary has approached
And offered a fleeting contact with a plane of existence
Mostly reserved for Otherwho, Otherwhere, Otherwhen,
Will bask - just for one breath -
In a warmth sensed with a s

 

WOW!

 

I agree with obi-ew - - WOW!!

Just jotted that down,huh?

That was amazing CYN, and I could not help but think of AUF.

Man, have you got it bad for Obi-Wan I think there are many of us who may think and feel alot of what you just put into words--but could never do it as good as that.

Awesome!

--Shan

 

Whoa CYN if that's what happens when you just jot something down, it might just prove to overload our senses if you really tried . The choice of words and consistent flow of the mood are excellent.

 

WOW!! Prehaps you can translate that into Old English- it could be the Jedi Beowulf. I particularly liked the "rorschach of oil and grease." Now where does that leave us?

 

I've always considered your work beautifully poetic, now I see why.
You never fail to astound me, Cyn. Your words are so eloquent and capture Obi-Wan of the "sea-change eyes" just perfectly. That is who you are talking about right, hehe, just kidding

Sheesh, I wish I could just jot down something this deep and charismatic.....

 

Well, all righty then. Some of you, at least, don't hate it - and, for a frustrated poet, that's entirely good enough.

Poets, you know, are the most impractical of all dreamers - and, if you're a pragmatist, the most useless of beings.

On the other hand, if you're not, while they will assuredly never feed the body (not even their own, for most are truly starving artists) they will most definitely - for a finite few - feed the soul.

And, as I speak, inspiration has swooped down and struck hard - with the next freeze frame. Time, I guess, to go back to work.

Thanks mucho for reading.

CYN

 

Time to rescue this lovely bit of inspiration from the depths of obscurity

 

How could anyone make a sarcastic comment about this wonderful poem?? Wow... You never cease to amaze me, CYN.

 

A beautiful peice, Cyn, as always!

Only you could write an "Ode to Obi" and really do it justice!

Brava, Cyn, brava!

 

That was truly lovely, Cyn! A hauntingly beautiful ode to a more than deserving Jedi Knight.

 

Wow! I have to admit to being shocked. I really thought this would get a couple of posts, then sink like a stone. Poetry is NOT - as a rule - going to set the world on fire. Not to say that this is doing so, but it's still sweet to have some of you drop in to say you like it.

Merci beaucoup, Mes Amis.

CYN

 

Ummm yea that about sums it up...

Till Later~
Siri

 

"Poetic enough"


That was just beautiful, CYN!

 

Is there nothing this one can't do, people?

 

TheFallen

Nope!



Till Later~
Siri

 

UP!!

 

Well, just now getting to this....and I'm quite impressed, CYN!!

-Tim

 

I am definitely NOT believing this. Hell-o-o-o out there - it's a POEM, People. You're supposed to run from the room screaming when somebody tries to force you to read poetry!

CYN is now doing cartwheels around the perimeter, drunk with pleasure, delighted - like Blanche Dubois - with the kindness of strangers. Of course - you guys aren't strange or - at least - not any stranger than the nutcase who wrote this.

Oh, and by way of confession, this was written, originally, as a paean to Ewan - not Obi-WAn. To adapt it, I had to eliminate a few references to the Stones and U-2 and driving rock beats and cigarettes.

Obsessed, you say? Who - me?

Still, I hope it fits well enough.

Eternal thanks - you've really made my day!

CYN

 

Umm, Cyn, may I remind you that I actually LIKE poetry, even write some myself

LOL

-Tim