Monthly Archives: August 2016


I’m wondering is it all worthwhile, maybe it’s a mood I’m in, later I will smile.

By all I mean what I strive to do, by and large communicate the true.

Things come on top of me from the world outside, is it all too much for me, has hope died?

Well no, not quite, I write day and night.

Things are usually not as bad as they seem.

As Martin Luther King said, I have a dream.

Tich Ennis

31st August, 2016


I wrote a poem before called nice, I may change the name of this one.

Nice is fake good, not true, no fun.

Some of my family are nice, unfortunately, pity me.

Possibly I went over the top today, I said I would not go, she drove away.

I said I’m never visiting my family again, I can’t stand people being nice.

No dice.

I will not be nice, no never.

Friendly yes, your ever.

Why should any subject be taboo?

It is not to me. To you?

You can’t be nice to some people, not to others.

Remember we are sisters, brothers.

An aim of mine in life is avoiding stress.

I hope you understand, God bless.

I am sorry for you getting so uptight.

If you can’t control your temper, goodnight.

I realise we all have our flaws.

Don’t condemn without just cause.

I will not be moulded into another shape though I am descended from an ape.

It would take a God to sum up a family, I am not he.

I am only me looking for serenity in all places, in all time.

Is that a crime?

I answer my own question, no.

That’s why I did not go.

Now you know.

We may live miles apart but you are still part of my heart.

As you may have guessed I could go on forever.

To put it backwards, I don’t want to see you never.

Or hardly ever.

I am old, time will run out.

Do call when you are about.

We ought to make allowances for others.

Whether or not they are brothers.

That is my point of view.

I know you have one too.

Peace and harmony are also aims of mine.

I dislike battlefields and rows and unforgiven crime.

But that’s just me, be as you want to be.

It takes all sorts to make a family tree.

Including you and me.

And others too, who have disappeared from view.

This poem may seem neverending.

Just one thing.

Bridges need mending.

 Tich Ennis

27th August, 2016


As a spectator sport it can provide amusement like a day in court.

Lots of stance adopting, scoring points, belittling each other and throwing taunts.

Arguing and opposing to do the others down, what use is most of it when they mostly act the clown?

Are they there for their own sake or ours, how can things be so wrong?

If they were really governing I’d sing a different song.

Are the ones who put party first the worst or are they all in the same boat?

They have us by the throat.

Of course there’s more to this than meets the eye.

People vote for them. Why?

Tich Ennis

30th August, 2016


If you ignore things do they go away?

Not necessarily, from day to day.

Yes, its true, rain goes away, the sky goes blue.


Other things though, this is not the case.

Ignore them, fall flat on your face.

There’s always someone worse off than yourself, does that make you happy to know?

I don’t think so.

If ignorance is bliss, why not kiss?

It could be worse, this verse.

Tich Ennis

30th August, 2016


When you are a journalist you have to listen to an awful lot of waffle and pretend it makes sense.

Pretend to be dense.

I was a journalist, past tense.

Taking rubbish seriously is your job.

Otherwise they won’t talk to you, you’ll get the sack, be a slob.

If you believe it, more fool you.

You could go into P.R., that’s the thing to do.

Politicians need press advisors pretty badly.

Otherwise people might think or know they act madly.

What has logic to do with politics, asked a politician.

Bing and Satch went fishin’.

A journalist needs logic, commonsense and to be able to spot a lie.

Just don’t ask why.

Then you’ll get by.

Tich Ennis

30th August, 2016


I’ll treat you as if you know absolutely nothing whatever, starting from scratch.

You are the first of a new batch.

When did you hatch?

I see. You could have fooled me.

You should know something by now, but I’ll let that pass.

What colour is grass?

You won’t pass your exam if you don’t give a damn.

Do you know who I am?

I am your teacher, an older, wiser version of you.

Perhaps you may become a teacher too.

There are a lot like you.

Have you cotton wool between your ears?

One of my fears.

You are young beyond your years.

As I supposed.

Class is closed.

 Tich Ennis

30th August, 2016


I struggle against tremendous odds.

False gods.

Confusion and delusion to name but two.

How about you?

They have feet of clay.

Why don’t they go away?

Are they here to stay?

They are everywhere, in the air.

Here and there.

They don’t care.

I do, I know, I told you so.

I have not given up hope.

Should I give them more rope?

Might they hang themselves, saving me the job?

I am a lazy slob.

Tich Ennis

30th August, 2016

War Victims

No one wants to let them in, they have nowhere to go.

They should be in their own countries at peace as we all know.

War has reared its ugly head leaving many people dead.

If you were they what would you say if people told you go away?

Have a nice day?

Or something other meaningless.

The world is a God awful mess.

I have no cure, I confess.

Except one word, love.

God above.

Tich Ennis

30th August, 2016

Self Harm

They hurt themselves to feel something in an uncaring world.

They must care for others as well as themselves.

Where and when does caring start, oh loveless heart?

The world is too much for them, its not very good.

War is normal, apparently, get used to it, you should.

Is that what growing up should be?

If you know you tell me.

Little hatreds, little lies and bigger ones before your eyes.

Not to love this is no surprise.

 Tich Ennis

30th August, 2016


Can a poet save the world from self inflicted wounds?

Is truth the balm that heals all ills, that and Summer sounds?

If music be the food of love then let the music play.

May mere self interest spoil all things, when will it go away?

Must disaster strike before rebirth, are lessons never learned?

Sad history speaks of war and woe, love is always earned.

Self sacrifice, where are you now when greed has all laid waste?

Dedicate to goodness, it has a lovely taste.

Must I tear out my guts for you and try to say it all?

The truth is obvious to a fool, the writing’s on the wall.

Tich Ennis

29th August, 2016