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Sock

Deer Oirish Riters’ Soc, I want to rite but should I?

I can’t spell, but what the Hell?

Does grammar matter, should a thin person be fatter?

A writer must have something to say more than have a nice day.

Nothing rhymes with I except die.

That’s not completely true, are you?

I’ll put a sock in it for now.

Have a nice day despite the rain anyhow.

Tich Ennis

16th August, 2017

Good In Parts

I am good in parts like a curate’s egg.

I do not have a wooden leg.

Some people should be brought down a peg.

But what of others, what of I?

I do my best before I die.

We can but try.

Far from perfect, okay.

Have it your way.

Not without a glimmer of hope.

Mostly, but not always a dope.

See the good and not the bad.

Sometimes the best of us are mad.

Tich Ennis

8th July, 2017

Parody

Why parody the past?

If the past made no sense why point it out?

What about the present?

That’s what its all about.

The truth is simple and profound, simple means easy to understand, profound means it goes on forever.

It is not one or the other, no never.

Both at once, you dunce.

Do not oversimplify you fool before you die.

Nor over complicate, get it straight.

Confusers are all the same, pardon me for calling you a name.

I know your game.

You seeker after fame.

Tich Ennis

5th July, 2017

You Know

You know when something is good, you don’t have to be told.

What you are told may be fool’s gold.

And often is, showbiz.

What suits you suits you, that’s that.

You may like a dog or cat.

Or not, or a bird singing in a tree.

You are me.

Do you understand?

That’s grand.

You are unique, everyone’s a freak.

On some things almost everyone agrees.

We need peace in times like these.

Tich Ennis

30th June, 2017

Depend

You can’t depend on the weather in Ireland or anything else at all.

Hear politicians talking, they might as well be talking to the wall.

They make no sense at all.

Ireland is rather small.

Does it punch above its weight in anything or is it fate?

We’re not bad at talking, when will we start walking?

We wrote some books, we sang some songs, we tried to right some wrongs.

Occasionally, once or twice, we get it right.

We emigrate, take flight.

Beannacht De libh, good night.

Alright.

Another wonderful day, as Beckett said.

Cheer up, you could be dead.

Tich Ennis

30th June, 2017

 

Serious Matters

It would be funny if it wasn’t so serious.

Am I delirious?

Fake news and all that, is a dog a cat?

Fancy that.

The real thing is Spring, after Winter, you know the thing.

Can you trust anyone or anything at all?

Graffiti on a wall.

That’s not all.

I suppose you’ll have to trust yourself or me.

The truth will set you free.

Tich Ennis

17th June, 2017

Deodorant

Do you use deodorant? No sweat.

What’s this, another stinking ad I’ll bet.

Because you’re worth it die in a dung heap.

Hopefully while you’re asleep.

Is it vulgar, is it rude to mention unmentionables, is it crude?

Is your name Ermintrude?

Why is a Latin name of a body part alright but not to say fart?

The scent of roses poets talk about, they don’t say smell.

It seems to me the same thing, oh well.

If you had a bath or shower you would not stink.

That’s what I think.

Tich Ennis

17th June, 2017