Category Archives: Abyss


Why do people tell lies and fantasise?

There’s no such song, you’re wrong.

Should I believe anything you say, go away.

You heard something from who about what?

Manure grows flowers, it is rot.

Hell I tell someone, then it isn’t true.

I don’t know why I believed you.

You seemed sincere, you’re more or less bright.

Dream at night.

Tich Ennis

Wednesday,29th January, 2020

Teenage Boys

Two teenage boys have just left a cinema. Place: Ireland. Time: Late fifties. The national anthem or part of it was played and the flag shown on the screen at the end of the showing. People would stand for the anthem and then leave the cinema.

Me: Standing for the anthem is something I don’t want to do. When I was at my last school my pal and the guys he knew would leave before the anthem. I don’t like doing things you have to do, and anyway, who says? The flag symbolises freedom, so be free, including not to have to stand for the anthem. If I was born in England I wouldn’t want to stand for their anthem. That’s worshipping a symbol, and a symbol is not the thing it symbolises. Its like Mass. I don’t know if you go to Mass. Mass is not important, its what it symbolises.

Martin: What does it symbolise?

Me: My brother is all mankind. Let me know when that happens.

Martin: You’ll be waiting a long time.

Footnote: Being Irish is sometimes defined as not being English, but not by me. You are defined by what you are not what you’re not. I am Irish, which means no less or more than being from anywhere else. Is that clear? I love Ireland of course, everyone loves their home. It gives me a pain in the neck now and again.

Tich Ennis

Wednesday, 29th January, 2020


Allow a poet speak.

His voice is weak.

A poet speaks the truth.

To today’s disaffected youth.

And the old and young.

Of whatever tongue.

A poet must be true.

Are you?

Its hard to be.

Set yourself free.

You are only me.

Me too.

And you.

I hope and pray that one day truth will be the way.

Its up to you.

Me too.


Tears glisten.

Banish fear.

Truth is here.

In you.

You know what to do.

Be you.

Be true.

There’s not much to it but to do it.

Try now.

I do anyhow.

Paradoxically its hard and easy.

The pole of life is greasy.

Your enemy is you.

I find that too.

If I could say it in less words I would.

Do what you should.

I’ve said it all, its up to you.

Me too.

Believe the true.

I have said what I have said.

Do it and be it before you’re dead.

You may feel a fool, so what, I do.

The price of being true.

Allow yourself be you.

I won’t say it again.

I lay down my pen.

Truth is your friend.

The end.

Tich Ennis

Wednesday, 22nd January, 2020


Charles Haughey said if politicians listened to economists they wouldn’t get elected.

It is as I suspected.

They say anything to get elected.

The truth is one and one makes two.

Where is my other shoe?

Does the main thing matter or how it looks?

If we get hungry we can cook the books.

Who elects a gang of crooks?

Tich Ennis

Saturday, 25th January, 2020


There is an election on, we’re supposed to be interested.

The country is politician infested.

All I can say is vote for the least worst option, lets not go from bad to worse.

When they blame each other do they curse?

The IRA army council want your vote, unelected men.

Do we want them again?

Who is whose mouthpiece, who do you want as yours?

Peddling quack medicine, fake cures.

Tich Ennis

Tuesday, 28th January, 2020

Ideal World

I would like an ideal perfect world in which no one said fuck.

Is this it? No such luck.

Drink can get the better of a man, is that a good excuse?

I can think of better, what’s the use?

I could have been a barrister or even a solicitor, God knows.

I can count my toes.

I don’t want to defend murderers and crooks and read law books.

I could have been a priest, at least.

But that would not suit me, I like to play around.

My theology is unsound.

Instead I did this that and the other, when unemployed I went home to mother.

I did not do absolutely nothing at all, I did something, however small.

I mean by the way exactly what I say.

I may underestimate myself, I’m not a person selling a house or a car.

I sing no praises of myself, I like a bar.

God only is my judge, not even me.

I believe in wait and see.

That’s me.

I wish also I wrote poetry not childish but suitable for a child.

Unfortunately I am not Oscar Wilde.

I mixed with rough guys at school and after.

I love laughter.

If there is even one word in this poem with which you find fault, console yourself with a film made by Disney, uncle Walt.

The perfect world I want would have no slush, sentimentality, politics or crap.

I don’t fall for rubbish, I’m no sap.

The ideal world is not defined in negatives, positive is all.

That’s what I’m trying to convey, I might as well talk to a wall.

I do not solemnly promise never again to use the word I rhymed with luck.

An ideal world is an ideal poem, without muck.

I can’t think of any more to say.

For now, good day.

Words like that should not exist.

They do, in Irish mist.

Tich Ennis

Friday, 24th January, 2020