Category Archives: Choice

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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Jews

Why are Jews so hated?

Are they underrated?

Einstein, Freud, Marx, Jesus, each one was a Jew.

I am not, are you?

Also great composers and people in other fields, they’re not much good at sport, you can’t have it all.

Kicking a ball.

There are poor Jews too you dope, people like you make me lose hope.

Well, not quite.

I’m used to your shite.

Persecution is good for you said a friend, it forces you to achieve.

Ask a woman or a black then you might believe.

Be twice as good or three times to get promotion.

How many drops make up an ocean?

Or love potion.

I am unaware of any perfect person or race.

I am Irish, say that to my face.

Must people by their worst be defined?

Killers everywhere, never mind.

Evil, yes, serial killers, torturers, corrupt governments, of these I’m well aware.

Fuck your reasons, I don’t care.

The problem is you don’t, for humanity.

There’s none so blind as those who don’t want to see.

If I say a word or two for a Jew does that mean I don’t like you?

Don’t be stupid, I mean you too.

What’s a guy to do?

With people like you.

I said fuck, I could say damn.

I speak your language, what a fool I am.

Does loving yourself mean hating others?

Not to me, sisters and brothers.

I am Irish, I could talk all day.

As a boy I knelt to pray.

I have not gone away.

Lesson over for today.

For Jew read anyone.

Even me, my mother’s son.

Maybe in future I won’t say fuck.

With any luck.

Tich Ennis

2nd December, 2017

Explaining Stupidity

I will now explain stupidity to those who have no brain.

There are none of those, the emperor wore no clothes.

A child could see and see it all.

Yet others chose blindness turning their faces to the wall.

Use your brain you dope you lazy thing.

See through the emperor or king.

Stupidity is not using your brain, you have it, use it.

It is really there, you didn’t lose it.

Is it true you’d rather die than think?

If so that’s why you’re stupid, my pen runs out of ink.

Tich Ennis

29th November, 2017

Who Shoots First?

Okay, international relations are at a critical point.

Someone’s nose is out of joint.

If I bomb you should you bomb me too, two can play that game.

Eternal shame.

Go on punk, make my day, I’ll blow you to smithereens.

Human beings.

It was ever thus, why make a fuss?

Will there be any left of us?

Here comes my bus.

I know I’m just a slob.

Someone has to do this job.

Tich Ennis

29th November, 2017

Problems

Deal with your problems one at a time.

That is the message of this rhyme.

You can’t deal with too much at once.

You are not a dunce.

Take it one step at a time as you learned to walk.

Call on a friendly person, have a talk.

Maybe a teacher who used chalk.

You have it in you if you follow my advice.

Not everyone is nice.

Some are.

Let me be your guiding star.

There you are.

Tich Ennis

24th November, 2017

Time

The effluxion of time is taking place even as I speak.

Before you know it it will be the middle of next week.

Seasons pass by one by one and days in two and threes.

Oh no, I got that wrong, forgive me please.

Watch the seconds ticking by on a digital clock.

Just how many have I left, don’t give me a shock.

There once was a beer called time about which someone made a rather rude joke.

If I repeated it here you’d say I should not have spoke.

P.S.

My brother thought I should add this.

Its rude, it mentions piss.

An ad agency ran a slogan competition for the beer called time, slogans not necessarily in rhyme.

Some guy said pissing is a waste of time, he sent that in.

No sin.

He got a fiver in the post, they enjoyed his slogan the most.

Need I say it was never printed.

If it was an archbishop might have squinted.

I never pissed the beer called time.

End of rude rhyme.

Tich Ennis

23rd 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