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The Royal Family

The royal family are wonderful people, I demur.

They have their saving graces, I concur.

If the royal princes weren’t born where they are would they be on the dole?

Could an ignoramus play their role?

The queen has crown jewels, the Irish had until 1910.

Someone stole them then.

I was not around, don’t blame me.

Someone else dunnit, you see.

What price pageantry?

Tich Ennis

11th November, 2018

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My Sins

For my sins I smoke outside.

Some people never smoked and died.

When I die will I go to Hell?

Oh well.

You’d have no trouble getting a light there.

Heaven has fresh air.

The wind tries to blow out my lighter.

I look forward, things will be brighter.

I don’t believe in hypnotism, I want a certain cure.

I don’t smoke gangster cigarettes, I am too pure.

Choose your way of wasting money.

Freedom isn’t funny.

Well, not really.

Its touchy feely.

Now my trousers are falling down.

I am an unofficial clown.

Why do I smoke, to ease the pain.

Its subtly comforting, life has its strain.

Do as I say, not as I do.

My advice to you.

As Sherlock Holmes said, I haven’t got a clue.

My sins are scarlet, or maybe slightly pink.

I also drink.

Smoking costs me most.

I am the holy ghost.

Who burned the toast?

Why should I impose on you this infliction?

Its all to do with my addiction.

Tich Ennis

8th November, 2018

Farmer

Your man thinks he knows everything but could he catch a calf, can he make a haystack?

If he saw things through my eyes would he think he was so wise?

I know he has two degrees, I’m sick of hearing about it, he brings me to my knees.

There’s no fool like an educated fool said some man who should know.

I have a herd of cattle to sell, I bought them this morning.

I would not have come if I knew you were here, next time give me warning.

You could bore for Ireland with all your show off talk.

You don’t impress me though you try, oh brother take a walk.

It takes all sorts to make a world and some of them are nuts.

Mr. Eccentric shut your mouth with all your ands and buts.

I see you coming and I groan.

End of moan.

This poem is incomplete, not a complete demolition job.

I’ll leave that to God.

Go ahead, tell him a thing or two.

That’s just like you.

I know this poem does not rhyme in every line.

Next time.

Tich Ennis

30th October, 2018

Advertising

Am I advertising myself or God?

I am an ordinary bod.

Is ordinariness enough?

Have you enough of that stuff?

I speak in a silent voice.

Rejoice, read Joyce.

I know that second last line doesn’t mean much, I just thought it sounded well.

People who use the words just or well should go to Hell.

I mean in excuse, what’s the use?

God, speak for yourself your humble spokesman begs.

I will succeed when a cripple wins running without legs.

In other words never.

Miracles happen hardly ever.

Still I live in hope.

An unrepentant dope.

Shall I advertise the skies?

Blessed are they who don’t tell lies.

At last I shut up.

Enjoy your coffee from your cup.

I know this poem is not bad, not good, not quite.

Its morning now, I slept last night.

Tich Ennis

25th October, 2018

The Crock Of Gold

The Crock of Gold, written by James Stephens, is a neglected masterpiece of which I wish to make an audio recording. This is an intimidating prospect, the book may be two hours long when read aloud. Nothing less than perfection suits me, I am a hard taskmaster. Of myself.

The book is divided into five books and consists of eighteen chapters. I recorded ten of the chapters a few years ago but am not satisfied with my reading of them. So I will start all over again. Joe told me every recording should be made at least three times and select the best. One chapter is over sixteen minutes long to read. There is a pause button on my recording device.

I thought I read too quickly in the first four chapters I recorded and played back to myself, but from there on did better. Of course I would not record this book in one day. At home, with a good quality microphone and a pop filter, which a recording engineer said should be used. Sounds called plosives do not record properly otherwise. This week I will have a pop filter, an inexpensive item.

When the recording is finished, whenever that is, my plan is to have it mastered, as I did with my singing recordings. Mastering improves the sound quality by a large percentage. This costs money, the mastering. Recording this book will be a labour of love, and love costs.   Audio books sell, I have been told, and know from experience.

My plan then would be to put it up for sale on Bandcamp, which costs nothing to sell from, except a small percentage on sales, if any. The best laid plans of mice and men gang oft a-gley. I dislike telling people what I am going to do because it might never happen. However, in this case I make an exception.

The Crock of Gold is an exceptional book, and worth going out of your way for. Therefore I make an exception in its case. I never panic until its time to panic. I am unique because I am the only person in the world who is not unique.

Tich Ennis

10th September, 2018

Christ Talks

Passerby: Hi Christ. Someone said you are the son of God. What are you doing here?

Christ: I’m flogging bibles.

Passerby: They haven’t been written yet. Aren’t you being a bit premature?

Christ: A bit previous. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

Passerby: I’ll put my name down for one.

Christ: Sign here. A first edition is a good investment. You could flog it at Sotheby’s.

Passerby: If I’m around that long. Is it readable?

Christ: It took ten years to write and would probably take the same amount of time to read.

Passerby: That’s very funny.

Christ: Not if you wrote the book.

Passerby: It will give people something to swear on and at and throw at people, anyway.

Christ: A best seller.

Passerby: And I thought you were just a waste of space.

Christ: Wait for the Hollywood epic.

Passerby: You’ve seen the film, now read the book.

Christ: Dance to the musical.

Passerby: You are a man before your time.

Christ: A man out of time.

Passerby: Whatever that means.

Christ: Gutenberg, thou should’st be living at this hour.

Passerby: I’ll wait for the audio version.

Christ: That’s me. Born before TV.

Passerby: If you had an air to that you could sing it.

Christ: I’ll be on my way.

Passerby: Mine too.

Christ: It’s a rocky road.

Passerby: You can say that again.

Christ: And again and again and again.

Passerby: Where does this road lead?

Christ: Where indeed.

Passerby: You’re a bit of a poet.

Christ: Don’t I know it.

Passerby: Sayonara, Japanese for goodbye.

Christ: Au revoir, until we meet again.

(Both figures depart. The End.)

Tich Ennis

26th July, 2018

 

Great Truths

You think you’re talking about others but you’re talking about yourself and your perception of the universe.

It could be worse.

Is the self a curse?

If I ask you will you tell me what to do?

Or only speak about you?

I for one believe in the Sun oh yes and the Moon.

Will enlightenment come soon?

Well yes, the Sun will rise another day.

That is all I have to say.

On this fantastic day.

Tich Ennis

7th July, 2018