Monthly Archives: March 2019


Is all art about the artist I wonder?

Let me not burst your dreams asunder.

Is the artist singing me, me, me as he tells his history?

He may be a she.

Its all about perception, am I right?

What the artist saw and heard in plain sight.

Nature or nurture, the argument drags on.

For a while we’re here, then gone.

The artist’s way of looking at things and what he saw.

Is objectivity against the law?

Skill has a part to play but that’s for another day.

Some tell a story well, others go to Hell.

A flower, plant, a tree as seen by me.

The Mona Lisa too, on view.

Art is about everything, the artist’s mood.

Celebrating the nude.

The nude symbolises truth, stands bare.

We stand and stare.

Art tells us what is there.

Art or artist, which comes first?

Great art shall slake your thirst.

Art and artist are at one with all.

Big and small.

Tich Ennis

31st March, 2019


Was Gerry Adams in the IRA? Do you believe lies?

Is that wise?

This may come as a surprise.

Politicians tell lies.

Some kill, there are murderers in the Dail.

God help us all.

Were you raped by the IRA?

What does Mairia Cahill say?

Is that politically correct, feminists tell me is rape wrong and if so why, does it matter who does it, don’t tell a lie.

We’re supposed to swallow rubbish, do you?

There are protestant murderers too.

All are equal, capable of right and wrong.

Equality is my song.

When I say all I mean all, English too as well as me and you.

The Irish generally speaking talk too much.

Some talk double Dutch.

Again I say not all.

In the Dail.

Would the English taoiseach hear what I say?

Borders go away.

Gerry Adams I apologise for using your name in vain.

You give me a pain.

Still, you got this poem off to a good start.

Have a heart.

Tich Ennis

31st March, 2019

Unimportant Poem

I don’t want anyone to say they like my stuff unless they do.

I’m talking to you.

The world is full of liars, as you should know.

I’ve had it up to here with them here below.

Don’t say anything you don’t mean.

Come clean.

I don’t want you to be what you might call kind.

Do you mind?

I want the real thing this Spring.

Mean what you say or go away.

I’m here to stay.

I prefer that you ignore me than lie.

I will not die.

Tich Ennis

30th March, 2019


May I say something in favour of calm?

Sometimes I am.

Then I don’t say damn.

Damn is rude.

Chewing gum I chewed.

Sometimes I’m glad.

Sometimes I’m mad.

Maybe sad.

I am a multihued rainbow.

Now you know.

Subject to mood.

Am I ever rude?

Yes, among other things.

So are beggars and kings.

I prefer calm, must it be before a storm?

God between us an all harm.

Goodbye funny farm.

Welcome charm.

Someone spoke of astronomy.

Not me.

The Moon has charm.

And Irish scenery.

And a cup of tea.

Where does that leave me?

In poetry.

A poem is meant to be spoken.

Some are heartbroken.

I was once or twice.

Still life goes on, is calm best?

At night I rest.

Calm and peace and love.

And happiness.

These are best of all.

A reminder to you all.

You once were small.

That’s all.

Tich Ennis

30th March, 2019

Real Life

We want real life to be better, it is in art.

In real life where do we start?

Art has feeling, number one.

In a song or painting, scenery and Sun.

It is technically accomplished, it takes time, and care and thought, as in this rhyme.

It is amusing, enjoyable, made by those who care.

It is for everyone, though sometimes rare.

Life is nothing if not a work of art.

When do we start?

We means you and I.

Don’t make me cry.

By the way if you want to do something you have to find out how.

Is that enough for now?

They say art is not about real life.

This time it is, they got it wrong.

I’ll be seeing you, so long.

Tich Ennis

30th March, 2019

Naked Beggar

I wish to be a naked beggar as in India, a holy man.

That is my plan.

Living on alms, singing psalms.

Owning nothing at all, that is my ambition.

Will it come to fruition?

One or two points require consideration before I change my station.

Being naked is agreeable in the Southern hemisphere, not here.

Secondly, if everyone was a naked beggar they would have no money to give each other.

This is a tough problem, I’ll ask my brother.

I reserve the right to misquote poetry.

The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft a glee.

A naked beggar I will never be.

Tich Ennis

29th March, 2019


I have no morals but I’m a very good hypocrite.

Therefore listen to me or I will spit.

Everything I say is moral and above reproach.

Do as I say, not as I do, let me be your coach.

When you are perfect you will put me to shame.

I will say I must up my game.

Then I will become the same as you.

And everyone else too.

There will be nothing left to do.

My brother says this poem hasn’t got enough bite.

He and I have been known to fight.

Tich Ennis

29th March, 2019