Monthly Archives: July 2016


Is God a verb or a noun? I don’t know, do you? A verb is an action word, seeing, being etcetera. A noun is the name of a person, place or thing.

To call God a thing is to objectify him, so I’ll skip that one. Place? Well, I haven’t been there. Person? Personally speaking, I don’t know.

God is perfection, which is said to be impossible on Earth. Without a miracle. Miracles are impossible, by definition. Therefore, God is impossible, on Earth. Without a miracle.

Some believe in miracles, but there is no accounting for belief. The fact that one or more people believe something does not make it true, whatever truth is.

God is truth, what is the truth of God? That he is the truth. Truth is a quality. That much we can agree on.

Is truth a quantity? By definition, no. If God does exist, dictionaries will have to be rewritten. Who is up to the job? Samuel Johnson is dead.

However, as lawyers like to say, the existence or nonexistence of God is hypothetical. Lexicographers, relax.

Whether God exists is open to question. The truth is undeniable, that truth is denied. That keeps lawyers in business. Truth itself is not in question.

If God exists is he the personification of truth? You tell me. God, if he exists, is beyond the comprehension of man. Well, this man anyway.

If I talk about God without understanding him can I reasonably be said not to know what I’m talking about? Yes. But I won’t let that stop me.

Assuming for a moment that God exists, he is infinite. I am finite. May the finite comprehend the infinite? No.

As a person who doesn’t know what he’s talking about I presume I may be allowed to speculate. Quality is not quantifiable.

God is spirit, quality, truth, goodness itself and infinite, therefore unmeasurable, unquantifiable. So I believe. There is no accounting for belief. People may believe whatever they choose to believe. And do.

God also is love. Okay, I was more or less joking in part here, but that’s just me. What do you expect, a miracle?

Tich Ennis

31st July, 2016

The Real Thing

This is not the real thing, the real thing is full of love and laughter and makes your heart sing.

When shall we see the real thing?

When Winter turns to Spring.

Cold hearts become warm, no one wishes any other any harm.

Do you look forward to that day? I do.

I do my best for you.

To make your dreams come true.

What can I do? I write, who reads, do you?

Can words change the world? If so, be true.

Tich Ennis

30th July, 2016


I’ve heard it all before, must I take more?

There are those of you who judge a person on the quality of their P.R.

I know who you are.

I leave that aside, your conscience died.

Others are very good at marshalling fact,

would you ever act?

Does anyone listen when the truth is told?

It is as rare as gold.

What should be done by, with, from or to the people, or do you care?

I wish you weren’t there.

Unless you care.

You can get there by talking.

But you also must do some walking.

Who will we get to do it?

You get to it.

Tich Ennis

30th July, 2016

Journey Into Hell

When thugs invade a family and hold them to ransom with children screaming is God there?

When the children’s happiness and peace vanishes into thin air?

I thought I’d speak of something other than birdsong and love and Heaven above.

Sometimes reality grabs you by the throat and threatens your life.

If you live through it, are you stronger, broken, do you hide the kitchen knife?

Beneath the surface lies Hell.

Heaven is its opposite, may you live there, take steps to do so, protect and love, may all be well.

Evil lives and good too.

The sky is not always blue.

Yes, God is there, do not despair.

God is caring, loving, putting others first.

What is the best but the opposite of the worst?

The law exists to protect you, so do walls and common sense.

Fix that hole in your fence.

Look after yourselves and each other.

I am your brother.

Tich Ennis

30th July, 2016

Dreary Day

Misty rain is falling, as it often does.

I live in Ireland, because, because.

It is not warm, Summertime is here.

Today I will drink a beer.

A slight breeze blowing, moving leaves and trees.

We have a lot to be grateful for, let’s get down on our knees!

Afterwards, I walk to the café, collect my pension, and then.

Who knows? What way the wind blows.

Maybe I will read Of Mice And Men.

Should I begin this rhyme again?

Tich Ennis

29th July, 2016

Old And New

Why does no one read my old stuff, only the new?

I was young once, too.

The new is made from the old,

so the story told.

Must I forever make, create?

Do you want it on a plate?

Books have a page one too,

so have you. Me too.

Click, for God’s sake, on the old.

Its all there, search for gold.

Right beside you, right there now.

Shakespeare is still read, anyhow.

Tich Ennis

28th July, 2016


Shall I give my pen a rest and also my tongue?

I am old with memories of being young.

I cannot live in memory, the future beckons bright.

If I told half the tales I tell we would be here all night.

What is life for, why are we here, oh give my head a rest!

I only know nothing is worthwhile unless you do your best.

Now back to my nest.

Tich Ennis

28th July, 2016