Category Archives: Charm

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

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Honey

Stands the clock at half past three and is there coffee still for tea?

Who wrote that, me.

Strongly influenced by Rupert Brooke who’s poem is worth a second look.

He died in the first world war possibly in the trenches.

When alive he may have sat on village benches.

Everyone loved his poem he said he wrote it in five minutes flat.

That’s that.

I suppose I’m less serious than him.

The boy in Treasure Island is called Jim.

Robert Louis Stevenson wrote that and many others you have heard of but may not know he wrote.

Frank Sinatra was called old golden throat.

I sailed on the mailboat.

I name some famous names here.

They come and go and disappear.

Life is not homosexual but queer.

I’m still here.

Tich Ennis

30th November, 2017

Am I?

Am I a conventional poet am I damn.

I don’t know what I am.

Bread and jam.

I ate as a child, did I go wild?

What am I now anyhow?

The sum of all my experiences, pig and sow.

Behind the plough.

I’m experimental now.

Yes I believe oh God I do.

In you.

In that sense I might as well go to Hell.

Oh well.

To Hell and back for the crack.

I will be back.

When I know I’ll tell you so.

I am old and I am new.

You too.

Tich Ennis

29th November, 2017

Gift

Thanks for the gift of birds in the sky I wish I could fly.

Boy its cold today the breeze would bring me to my knees.

Perhaps I would say a prayer then if I care.

I come in out of the cold I must remember I am old.

I saw swans flying looking wonderful well designed, I took my coffee inside, I changed my mind.

I’ll ask for credit today if that’s okay.

I’ll pay back tomorrow when I get my pension from a grateful state.

Or else they’ll have to wait.

The pub is not open then, it opens at half ten.

I’ll wend my way up then.

Tich Ennis

23rd November, 2017

Gentle River

I watch the river flow while dirty go.

Its cold I know.

A black bird in the shade well made.

Looking for a crumb or two in the view.

Its less cold than an hour ago.

Possibly Winter snow.

The bird found something but did not sing.

His voice is raw, a caw.

I see a duck and more wildlife, flying by.

Its peaceful here, never mind the time of year.

Where only man is vile a poet said.

One who’s dead.

Some traffic going gently by.

I smoke a cigarette.

Bye bye.

Tich Ennis

13th November, 2017

Fan Letter

Upheavals everywhere.

Its in the air.

The authorities clamp down.

Freedom is out of town.

Even Fats Domino is down.

If I see eighty-nine will I be free?

And others along with me.

We’ll see.

Blue Monday, Blueberry Hill, I remember them still.

Happiness is not dead, it never goes away.

Its here to stay.

Why look the other way?

We have our music, all the same.

Fats Domino, I’m glad you came.

Tich Ennis

25th October, 2017

Ireland

Ireland is a magnet, it repels and attracts.

These are the facts.

Or maybe that is life.

Would you like an Irish wife?

When people disagree with everything you say its time to go away.

We have our saving graces, some of us wash our faces.

Don’t forget to wash behind your ears my mother used to say.

Who would look there I replied before I went away.

I more or less did as I was told.

I am not quite as good as gold.

Ireland will do to be going on with until the real thing comes along.

Hear my song.

Tich Ennis

23rd October, 2017