Category Archives: Favouritism

The Arts Council

Is it true the Arts Council are creeps and they only support pretentious stuff?

I’ve had enough.

I’m no insect, I don’t crawl.

I’ve heard shite, I’ve seen it all.

It cuts no ice with me at all.

Am I completely, absolutely, totally wrong, do they ever get it right if only by mistake?

Should I take a chance, are they completely fake?

Will there be any mourners at their wake?

When people don’t understand something they say its art.

A bloody fart.

Not in my face, drop dead.

Enough said.

Tich Ennis

30th November, 2017

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Court

Blackening one person’s name does not make another’s white.

If you believe that of yourself, goodnight.

So are some people shades of grey as far as you may know?

Including yourself, you ought to know.

Who is your judge and who are you to judge?

Yourself I say, and do not fudge.

As far as I am concerned the jury’s out.

I am inclined to give myself the benefit of the doubt.

Tich Ennis

3rd September, 2017

Daggers Drawn

Why are we at daggers drawn until dawn?

Who fights a duel except a fool?

Death rather than dishonour, yes, he said, as for me I’d rather stay in bed.

He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.

So they say.

Why fight all night, why be uptight?

Alright.

I am seventy-six and survived some dirty tricks.

Its as clear as mud to me its better if we agree.

Now and then, as Elvis sang, there’s a fool such as me.

People just like me died young, alone, unhonoured and unsung.

I don’t wish to die for a flag or any other rag.

That’s not my bag.

Nor do I wish to die alone in a tangled mess of blood and bone.

Why can’t we leave each other alone?

Talk, at least on the telephone.

Friendliness is not unknown.

Blood or an ice cream cone?

I know which choice is mine.

I hope the weather keeps fine.

Tich Ennis

13th July, 2017

Depend

You can’t depend on the weather in Ireland or anything else at all.

Hear politicians talking, they might as well be talking to the wall.

They make no sense at all.

Ireland is rather small.

Does it punch above its weight in anything or is it fate?

We’re not bad at talking, when will we start walking?

We wrote some books, we sang some songs, we tried to right some wrongs.

Occasionally, once or twice, we get it right.

We emigrate, take flight.

Beannacht De libh, good night.

Alright.

Another wonderful day, as Beckett said.

Cheer up, you could be dead.

Tich Ennis

30th June, 2017

 

Axe

Everyone has an axe to grind.

When I say everyone I mean nearly everyone, do you mind?

Take the media, for example.

Look at a cross sample.

Video, print, whatever.

Are they objective never?

Hardly ever.

Similarly in politics and people supporting football teams.

Fairness? Honesty? In your dreams.

My country right or wrong is an old song.

As some black guy said, why can’t we get along?

His name was Rodney King if memory serves me right.

The white police were spoiling for a fight.

Goodnight.

Who knows wrong from right?

We have wars, dislike and hate because we choose.

That is the news.

No wonder black men sang the blues.

You would in their shoes.

In wars we lose.

How many dead and wounded on both sides?

As fish in the sea in waves and tides.

Pick up the pieces after, son or daughter, from the slaughter.

A child knows peace is best.

Harmony, music, a friend and the rest.

Out of the mouths of babes came forth the truth.

Must young men die in youth?

I say no.

And so I go.

Tich Ennis

18th June, 2017