Dave Stancliff AS IT STANDS POETRY CORNER: ‘THE POLITICAL POLLSTER’ blogarama.com

Monday, April 9, 2012

AS IT STANDS POETRY CORNER: ‘THE POLITICAL POLLSTER’

                            Good Day Humboldt County!

In an attempt to travel as many creative roads as possible, I sometimes write bad poetry. I paint and draw too, both equally unspectacular attempts at mastering the arts, but fun to do nevertheless. Besides writing my own mediocre poetry, I like parody. Today, I’m going to share an example. Fair warning: you may want to go to another website immediately to save your sanity! 

 


                                                                    The Political Pollster 
                                         (With apologies to Edgar Allen Poe‘s classic The Raven
                                                                         By Dave Stancliff

This year’s election is so dreary, I can’t help already being weary.
Voters listening to many a quaint and curious partisan issue are becoming leery.
While I nodded, nearly napping during the 6:00 news, there came a tapping,
As if some one gently rapping, rapping at my front door -
Only this, and nothing more.

Ah distinctly I remember, hoping it wasn’t a Tea Party member,
And how sick I was listening to them last December, an didn’t want to hear any more.
Eagerly I hoped they would go away, and never come back another day.
From my book of gripes - I knew their types, and that’s why I posted on my front door -
Political Hacks Not Welcome here, now or evermore!

And the person rapped again louder than before
Suddenly I got up from my chair and walked across the floor
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my front door; -
That’s it, and nothing more.

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Hey man,’ said I, or lady, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, while watching the news and didn’t hear you rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my front door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more!

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing
Listening, for the footsteps of The Pollster who had come here once before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
The only word two words I spoke were the whispered words, Political Pollster?
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back two words, …Political Pollster.
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the house turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard that tapping somewhat louder than before.
‘Surely,’ said I, surely there is someone outside my window;
Let me see then, what it is, and this mystery explore; -
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!’

Open here I flung the shutter, and saw the startled face of a Pollster who began to mutter,
“If I could just have some of your time…”
Political Pollster! Said I, thing of evil - false prophet for the masses! -
Whether tempter sent, or political party driven, I don’t want you at my window or door,
‘Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Don’t leave a token, or written track, that would show you’ve been here before,
Political Pollsters will never be welcome here, now… or forever more!

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