Author Archives: kestrelridge

Examination

To examine one’s own life and the life all about.

To find them wanting, how do I fit in, how do I get out?

To understand everything and find the cure.

How to do it I’m not sure.

The road to perdition is a war of attrition.

People fall like flies, a part of me dies.

The world belongs to the wise.

Must I wear disguise?

Do I pass with honours my exam or just say damn?

Having examined through a microscope I believe in hope.

Yours faithfully, a dope.

Tich Ennis

24th February, 2018

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Radio

Intensely earnest person on the radio.

Should I listen to his show?

His manner is not calm, considered.

On and on he blithered.

I realise it’s just filling space.

Painting by numbers presenter man, you are a disgrace.

It gets no one anywhere, that stuff.

A load of waffling guff.

I’ve had enough.

Tich Ennis

22nd February, 2018

Aspiration

Why is there a word perfection when there’s no such thing?

You may say the same of God or a wedding ring.

Someone said there’s no such thing as happiness, I disagree.

That’s only me.

A lawyer acts for either side, its about pounds shillings and pence.

He does not care if he makes sense.

I may state a case merely to demolish it.

What is truth, should we abolish it?

God is what you put first, best or worst.

I do not drink only because I thirst.

There’s such a thing as aspiration.

Getting there requires a destination.

Tich Ennis

22nd February, 2018

My Rubbish

I’m dumping my rubbish on your doorstep and hope you find something interesting there.

The detritus of a life made of moon and stars and many, many bars.

Something to rhyme, care.

Sweep up after me pick up the orange peels and potato skins.

Once upon a time love begins.

No gold here just beer mats and memories of kisses, girls and all the rest.

Love is best.

A life spent looking and searching, did I find?

Only what you find here I have my secrets never, never mind.

Is it true if I was behind the bar no one would buy a drink?

Let me think.

Here is the kitchen sink.

Tich Ennis

21st February, 2018

Two In One

Do I have to say this, don’t you know?

The spiritual is expressed through the physical, there you go.

Its not one or the other or the other not at all.

Its both together hand in hand or else look how we fall.

Why do I have to say this, listen to a singer sing.

He uses heart and lungs and soul and voice, he gives everything.

Or she, not to be gender specific.

When done right it is terrific.

Body and Soul is an old jazz standard, it says what I say here.

Someone has to brew your beer.

I’m a poor poet saying what needs to be said.

Before I’m dead.

Tich Ennis

20th February, 2018

Nameless

Do you have to be semi mad or sick to get a following, do I do the trick?

It is necessary to define your terms before you are eaten by worms.

What is mad and what is sane and what is pleasure, what is pain?

We each are mad in our own way, am I mad, what do you say?

If mad is different then I’m glad, I wish to be completely mad.

We are different and the same, madness I am glad you came.

All I love are different, that is so.

For instance Kafka and Van Gogh.

I am a snail so I am slow.

Let us eat a lettuce leaf.

Life is not only always grief.

Tich Ennis

19th February, 2018

Monastic Life

I applied to become a monk but was turned down.

Not being debt free raised a frown.

Also I am too old, I can’t help that.

I thought I might be stress free, fancy that.

I got a nice email in return, spelling it all out.

Aspects of the monastic life would not suit me, no doubt.

Possibly my motivation was wrong.

As I said before, where do I belong?

Jim Reeves had a song, this world is not my home.

Maybe I should become a garden gnome.

Tich Ennis

19th February, 2018