An attempt at poetry ...just for yuk

[Mitch Cronin]

The Poet and the Pariah

A poet was sitting one day

worming his way through his words

at his keyboard he sat

marvelling at that

he felt so driven

compelled...

A pariah sat there too

pecking away at his board,

wondering why

he sat alone with this guy ,

almost as though

expelled...

This poet and this pariah,

actually shared the same name

and the answers to that which plagued him

were likewise one and the same...

The words the poet had found

had created this solitary ground

as all too often in our lives it seems,

words too true exceed one's means

to deal with reality just as it lay

so we tend to stay away

Some read the poet's writing

and silently nod their agreement

but to sit with him might be inviting

precisely the same kind of treatment

...this poet and this pariah...

certainly no one's messiah

But he couldn't quite get

why all he had met

had left him to wallow in sorrow

That the sun would still shine

he knew all could see

words so benign

to everyone's glee

would have too small a chance

at surely anyone's glance

of actually altering tomorrow

So the pariah shuns the poet,

who vows to write no more

sits at his keyboard and types out his woes

just to even the score

MC

two thousand and three

andsoendsabottleofrum

[Guest PilotsWife]

Hey whatever happened to our resident writer Kip?

JP

[Mitch Cronin]

So that's whatcha think of my attempt huh?

Kip's still out floatin' around on the Trent Severn Waterway some place (maybe in Georgian bay now?)... He called me on his way through Lake Simcoe and said he'd call again on the way back and hopefully I'll get to meet up with him there... (he used to teach waterskiing and I'm dyin' to get some tips for my kids!)

Cheers,

Mitch