Category Archives: Entemology

Bird Table


My Mother Said

Me: If I said I would do something when I’m good and ready when will that be?

She: A very long time.

Me: Why are there two words, real and reality when they both mean the same thing?

She: They don’t mean the same thing. Reality means the essence or meaning of a thing.

Me: Then why do people use them as if they mean the same thing?

She: No answer.

When I left school my mother said if you won’t go to school you’ll have to get a job. I made a joke. She said don’t you take anything seriously? I didn’t answer, I couldn’t think of anything I take seriously.

At a party some guy was talking to me. I made a joke. He said lets talk seriously. I said seriousness is morbidity and morbidity is death. He walked away from me.

The next guy was nice. Or friendly, to use a better word. I said the last man who spoke with me walked away from me. He said that was very rude. I said he wanted to talk seriously.

I said a party is for fun, its not a funeral. You can be serious at a funeral. In New Orleans they play happy jazz music at funerals.

He said that’s because they are more intelligent than we are.

Tich Ennis

4th March, 2017

Butterfly Boy

When young, butterflies would land on him, but not in later years.

When young he was as good as gold, no fears.

Why not when older, what went wrong?

Did he forget the song?

Now in Summer butterflies fly all day.

In dreams, they never go away.

Look forward to a Summer day.

Tich Ennis

16th January, 2017

Dark Glass

Its all becoming clear but very, very slowly.

A slug or snail or worm are creatures very lowly.

A lark in the clear air may soar higher.

How high may we aspire?

Its all the one to me, the universe, a molecule.

I was not very good at school.

Or so I may have been perceived.

Is the truth to be believed?

I await your answer, I must find mine first.

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

When shall they end, hunger and thirst?

Tich Ennis

23rd November, 2016

Inky Spider

I dipped a spider in ink and put it on a page.

What words did it write, was it a sage?

It said my legs are inky, that’s not how to write, you dope.

If you think that’s all there is to it then there is no hope.

Random rubbish is just that.

You’d be better off feeding the cat.

I said, oh well, alright, if that’s what you say.

I’ll have another think, good day.

The spider got up on his legs and spoke.

He said a joke is not funny when it’s not a joke.

I am a spider, let me go.

Rubbish is rubbish, I told you so.

Tich Ennis

11th October, 2016