Category Archives: Advertisements

Poster Boy

Poster designed by me not printed yet.

CD not duplicated yet.

Its coming, like Christmas.

Book ready in small quantities.

We can but try, Tich Ennis, 9th December, 2017

Advertisements

Prestige Project

This is my prestige project, I am what you see.

Are you another me?

To see means understand, I’ll let that pass.

I am trees, green grass.

It fails to pass my understanding why prestige projects exist.

I kissed a girl who never kissed.

You are on my list.

A monument to your own glory, hang the expense.

Does it make sense?

Your achievements speak for themselves, such as they are.

Who made a shooting star?

You are what you are.

I am ordinary, you are extraordinary.

Far be it from me to gild the lily.

This poem might become silly.

I am the Sun, the stars, the Earth, the flowers.

Holy hours.

I warned you this might happen, now you see.

Elvis sang now and then there’s a fool such as me.

And Hound Dog, Don’t Be Cruel, All Shook Up.

I love a simple flower, e.g. buttercup.

Now like a flower I shut up.

Tich Ennis

6th December, 2017

Fake News

Pope to canonise Paisley to make the unionists happy.

Bob Dylan said Abba are sappy.

Jerry Lee Lewis said I’m better than Elvis and I’m not dead.

Donald Trump says that’s not what I said.

Teresa May, the Virgin on the Rocks, says what she really thinks.

Arlene Foster stinks.

Tich Ennis

5th December, 2017

Nude Girl

Some man said I should have a nude girl on the cover of my book. Sexist pig!   I think it was the same man who said I should have rape, violence and bloodthirsty murder in my book.   For that sort of thing read the papers. Sex sells, it has been said, ask a brothel keeper.

My mother said nudity symbolises truth, the truth stands naked. Did I ever swim naked? Yes. In the presence of women? No. Would that this were for Ireland, said a man dipping his toe in the water.

In London when young I visited a sex shop, done up like a Boots chemists. The female assistant asked me could she help me, I said I was only looking. She was disgusted. No money in that. I bought nothing. I treated it like a museum, they are free.

In Moore street in Dublin the vegetable sellers at stalls ask are you buying? Think twice before you do. Nice white mushrooms on the stall, but brown ones from under the counter if you buy.   They sell throw outs from the fruit and vegetable market, a little known fact. I’ll scrawb the fatures off you said one to another, so my father told me.   The song Biddy Mulligan celebrates them and their ilk.

This is a long way from nude girls, my mind wanders. The female form has been celebrated by artists throughout the ages, not to speak of the male. See the Sistine Chapel, was that Leonardo or Michelangelo? Don’t tell me, don’t show off. I don’t care if the Pope has dirty pictures in his chapel, we’re not having them, said a politician in our parliament discussing censorship of books with W.B. Yeats, poet and senator. We’ve got over that now, we have sex shops.   There was no sex in Ireland before television said another politician of ours. We are all the result of miracle births.

I speak of course of the old days. We have grown up and got sense since. Or what passes for it.   You learned about sex by osmosis in the old days, but you did learn. What is the difference between education and training? There’s sex education in schools, not sex training. Now you know.

A pretty girl on the cover sells a book, said Laurence O’Bryan, novelist and editor, to me, so I had one there. Hence the remark of that man, the nude girl fancier. So far, no nude girls in or on any book of mine. You have to draw the line somewhere, as Picasso might have said.

Imagination is a wonderful thing. Use your imagination. Did you have any bad thoughts, a priest might ask a confessor. In totalitarian states there’s such a thing as thought crime. I have thoughts but I don’t agree with them, said a man when asked in those circumstances.

A pretty girl is like a melody said someone, maybe Shakespeare. They’re all the same in the dark, said someone else. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is only skin deep. Beauty comes from within. Make up your own mind, if you have one.

I leave you to your fantasies.

How about a nudist colony in the Arctic Circle?

Tich Ennis

3rd December, 2017

Dream – Immortal Word

I’m always getting ready never doing.

Or so it seems.

I achieve in my dreams.

When all the pieces fall into place will I be in a state of grace?

I was not dealt the perfect hand I am no rock‘n’roll band.

Whoever heard of a band of one is there such a thing under the Sun?

Throw a pack of cards in the air or a jigsaw puzzle.

Beware of a dog without a muzzle.

Toast always falls face down, so said some clown.

If I do nothing will anything happen, anything at all?

When I talk to myself I’m talking to the wall.

I don’t want to be rude but should I get up off my arse, my bum?

Hand me the key to kingdom come.

I speak in the vulgar tongue.

I am a common man, as common as muck.

I bet you thought I was going to say fuck.

Tich Ennis

27th November, 2017

Dear Millionaire

Millionaire, Somewhere

1st December, 2017

Dear Millionaire,

I wrote to you in 2014 enclosing a copy of my book Pub Talk which you paid ten euros for and wrote a nice letter of appreciation, thank you.   I am still alive and kicking at the age of 76 and writing and, what’s more, singing!

Here is my latest (second) book also self-published, Reasonable Rhymes, and my CD (self singing) Great Irish Songs and a Christmas Card, self and Santa. Cost of CD ten euros.   Book five. (Twenty would be nice).

I hope you enjoy them all. If the music is not to your taste perhaps you know someone to whom it would make a suitable gift.

I now live in Reality, Seaview Avenue, Arklow, Co. Wicklow, house named by me. My brother thinks it funny to have civil servants writing to reality!

Technical and price details: The book, saddle-stitched, costs me three euros to have printed here locally and the CD hopefully costs me about or less than four euros to have duplicated, cover and all.   All design and layout work by me. Cover photo on book a lily from a neighbour’s garden, photo by my sister, idea of my brother.

Also here are two pieces of writing, a poem I wrote today while thinking of possibly writing to you, called Millionaire, and something I wrote called Books And Other Things. I have a blog with 81 followers, If I was a pop singer I suppose I would have millions.   Also am on Facebook and YouTube, under my professional name of Tich Ennis, birth name David.

Someone said you don’t get rich writing poetry, how about singing?   My brother says its much easier to sell a music CD than a book of poetry, people are put off poetry because of the strange, meaningless stuff written in its name today, that’s why I called my book rhymes,

I hope you may at least play and listen to my CD, of course as well as read my book, you liked the last one. The songs are all out of copyright, so I won’t have to pay any royalties if I manage to sell any. The CD mastered by Beardfire of Dublin, some people here are professional and know what they’re doing, you may take that personally if you like.   My brother says the CD sounds 25 per cent better since mastering, presentation is all-important.

Oops, I came onto a second page, I meant to keep this fairly short, I know you are busy. As I am on a second page I may as well put that poem I wrote today (26th November) here.   Title arbitrary, with or without your second name. Here goes:

Millionaire

You live in your world I in mine may our worlds collide?

Or intersect if that’s correct, the Moon controls the tide.

Who knows what may happen all is happenstance.

What girl may dance with you at a dance?

The Muse is musing and comes not at a time of your choosing.

Life is for living has been said at the worst confusing and at the best amusing.

If I go all transcendental here you might say I’m mental.

Have a very good year.

Tich Ennis

25th November, 2017

         Now that I’ve got that out of the way what else is left to say? Okay, nix with the rhymes. Address me as David, hear final track on my CD, In reality, or Reality, I am David.

What I like about those songs are the great words, basically I am a writer, I love words. The slogan on the front, At least you can hear the words, was said by someone I gave the CD to in an earlier incarnation, I thought it was funny so I put it on. I was the best reader in my class at school (showing off!)

My best friend says I can’t sing but I have a unique voice. I was told at school I can’t sing, so was Elvis. We have that in common.

My mother, a piano teacher, said timing is more important than getting the exact note, my rhythm I think is good. And you can hear the words, which is more than can be said for some singers. I love all the songs.   A local singer said you should only sing songs you like.

The Santa on the card I send is a local guy, the best Santa I ever saw, and what’s more his beard is real, he started growing it last June.   I saw him on the street and asked a girl to photo me with him.   Kids followed him off stage and were having their photo taken with him.   Happenstance, see poem above!

So I got the photo printed and am using it as a Christmas card and costing less than shop bought ones!

The number of people who have paid for my work are a small and select group, join the club, please, if you will. Enjoy!

         Tich Ennis

26th November, 2017

Important Fact

There are two forms of criticism, constructive and destructive, sometimes constructive is mistaken for the other.

If you want praise ask your mother.

So said AA Gill.

He rests in peace, his brain is still.

What use is overpraise unless you want to spoil a child?

I am not quite Oscar Wilde.

Those who can do and those who can’t teach, in a figure of speech.

Be your severest critic, its cruel to be kind.

I can’t make up your mind.

Have you got a match?

Yeah, my arse and your face.

Isn’t that a disgrace?

Tich Ennis

18th November, 2017