Category Archives: Art

CD and Book

Singing and writing, who’s fighting?

I fight myself and sometimes win.

Is it too late to begin?

I nearly built a shop down a street where no one goes.

I still may do it, who knows?

Maybe someone lost their way.

Why not walk down and stay?

Bring something home with you, you may share it too.

If you wish to hear and see then come along with me.

I don’t cost much, not much, a widow’s mite.

Why fight?

Tich Ennis

17th October, 2017

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The Halloween Ring

Slowly, imperceptibly things are happening, or maybe.

What rhymes with gravy?

I waited for a man on a white horse.

He never came, of course.

Could Clint Eastwood make my day?

He stayed away.

Mind you I said nothing, don’t get all excited.

May I allow myself to be delighted?

For every horizon there is another one.

I follow the Sun.

Something is better than nothing, I search for something.

Maybe I will get the Halloween ring.

Tich Ennis

16th October, 2017

Fancy Free

Money and me are passing acquaintances, money is fancy free.

I borrow from a friend to bring music to you.

You and you and you and me too.

Artists only buy from each other an artist said.

Are we all artists before we’re dead?

I wrote a book, I sang a song, how long, oh Lord, how long?

For a joke God made a money tree.

I sit under the apple tree.

My pockets are empty, can’t you see?

Tich Ennis

16th October, 2017

Commemoration

Am I the greatest thing since scrambled eggs or sliced bread?

Will I be commemorated when I’m dead?

Get your act together, I live in stormy weather.

Should I be awarded the Nobel prize posthumously it will make no difference to me.

I never won a beauty competition, I went fishin’.

The prizes I won in life would fit in a matchbox.

In the Victorian era people gave their lovers locks.

Of their hair, I mean.

I used Brylcream.

I remember Elvis Presley and James Dean.

Tich Ennis

7th October, 2017

Full Flower

Art and science walk hand in hand, shall we allow them to despoil the land?

At their best they are wonderful, supreme, at their worst an adolescent dream.

To be mature or immature, wine aged in the wood.

Or whiskey ten year old, its good.

Thought and imagination find their flower now and then.

Oftentimes we wait and wait, saying oh God when?

At any level good is good, trees and shrubs make up the wood.

Some stand tall and stately, magnificently made.

Affording, as someone said, the weary traveller shade.

Tich Ennis

28th September, 2017

Genius is of the Spirit

Genius is of the spirit not the mind.

You have it, be kind.

In every little thing you do be true.

And in big things too.

Goya said he was still learning at the age of ninety-five.

Learn while you’re alive.

You will be dead a long time, so the mournful people say.

You are not dead today.

Use your brush, your words, your hands and feet.

Joy is unconfined when lovers meet.

Life is your work of art.

Be of good heart.

Tich Ennis

19th September, 2017

Sayings

You can’t reveal the truth without revealing yourself. So it has been said.

I am alive, not dead.

The truth, when perfectly expressed, is incontrovertible.

I never owned a convertible.

The truth, though imperfectly expressed, is still the truth.

I read these sayings in my youth.

Is there something else I have forgotten?

Eugene O’Neill wrote A Moon for the Misbegotten.

Yes, T.S. Eliot said the truth is what is most hated.

This is the end of this poem, I’m glad you waited.

It is necessary to confront evil in order to defeat it.

You know it when you meet it.

I thought I’d throw that one in.

To leave it out would be a sin.

Tich Ennis

17th September, 2017