Category Archives: Art

Agree

I don’t know who you are who agree with me.

I don’t try very hard, you see.

Poetry comes easily to me.

In real life I almost do not act.

That’s a fact.

Still, its nice to know some are of one mind with me, one mind.

The truth is hard to find.

But yet easy, everyday.

It never goes away.

Some of you are damaged goods and some are not.

Whoever you are, thanks a lot.

The last line of a poem is often hardest to write, the last line.

The truth is yours and mine.

Don’t try to write a poem, let it come.

Write some.

Tich Ennis

8th November, 2018

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Ghostwriter

Ghostwritten in invisible ink.

A book to make you think.

Now you see it, now you don’t.

You think you get it but you won’t.

A mystery for you to solve.

Grit your teeth with firm resolve.

This book is your life story too.

It may include a kangaroo.

It has a cast of characters of every race and creed.

It says a lot to those who learn to read.

Others may be unaware, not knowing it is there.

Look up the index, there’s your name.

Aren’t you glad you came?

Read on, read on until the end.

It’s a neverending book, my friend.

You may find this meaningless.

More or less a mess.

God bless.

Tich Ennis

7th November, 2018

Start

Poem of my heart.

Start.

When will you conclude?

Don’t be rude.

I’ll start when I begin.

Original sin.

Forgive me for my faults.

Lets waltz.

This is more or less it.

Except for this bit.

But someday soon.

Beneath the Moon.

I’ll start again.

I won’t finish then.

Poetry and me.

Set us free.

Tich Ennis

7th November, 2018

Save The World

If I wrote the perfect poem to save the world would you read it?

If I gave you a million pounds would you need it?

Would you thank me for it before you put it in the bank?

I don’t expect much of you, to be frank.

People everywhere breathe air.

Some wear masks, pollution doesn’t care.

Some say things are getting better, some say worse.

It’s a bit of both, here comes your hearse.

Who will save the world from us, from each other?

Are you leaving it to me and my brother?

Or another?

Tich Ennis

6th November, 2018

Intellectual

I am an intellectual, I prefer Adrian Mole to Harry Potter.

Is Sue Townsend a better plotter?

I revel in the prose, God knows.

Mole appears pedantic, to me.

Is Potter frantic, do you see?

I only read one book of each, the first in each case.

Will Potter vanish without trace?

There appears to me to be more brain power in the one I prefer.

Both written by women, long live her.

Am I out of touch with popular taste?

For this are forests laid to waste?

Mole is, unfortunately for him, chaste.

Sue Townsend is R.I.P.

J.K. Rowling is still writing, she.

I said she because it rhymes with R.I.P.

Tich Ennis

6th November, 2018

Madmen

Why are madmen taken seriously in this country of ours?

How very tolerant, are weeds flowers?

How about the past and intimidation now?

Have the gunmen hung up their guns anyhow?

Should men who shot people in the back be given the sack?

They want to stand you up against the wall, walk tall.

They are destroyers, they never make, blackmail is their thing.

The men who would be king.

Tich Ennis

5th November, 2018

Be Mine

Be mine, inspirer of all things.

May inspiration come as Saturn’s rings.

May I inspire and inspired be.

Oh inspiration come to me.

When thou art mine oh I am thine.

Forever glass of wine.

May I bring solace and inspire.

Forever ever climbing higher.

As a family, around a fire.

May I bring happiness and love.

Oh peace, where art thou, whitest dove.

Rest on my shoulder, sing your song.

With you I belong.

May I make right from wrong.

This is my prayer, this my plea.

May I forever walk with thee.

This my poem, let it be.

How great thou art, how little me.

I walk in humility.

Tich Ennis

5th November, 2018