Category Archives: First World War


My life’s blood spills out upon a page.

Will I die in peace or rage?

Get over it, it could be worse, cheer up, Irish people say.

Yeah, right, I say in my last words, who will write them down except this clown?

Oh, sorry, I wrote a line that does not rhyme.

Someday I may.

Blood, they say, is thicker than water, I know which I like to drink.

Hello there, my pen has not run out of ink.

Tich Ennis

25th June, 2017


You never tell me whether you like my stuff, okay, what am I looking for, praise?

The end of days.

Lost in a maze.

See through the haze.

Is that the white flag of peace I see through the smoke or a bloodstained bandage, give my heart ease.

The turmoil and the tumult batter on.

When peace comes war is gone.

So I die and no one knows.

Do you prefer poetry or prose?

God knows.

Tich Ennis

23rd June, 2017


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.


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


A student started the first world war in which millions died including many, many young.

Treated like dung.

Ask students will they do it again before they turn into men.

Students have a lot to learn if they do it.

Get down to it.

Should students teach or preach or ban free speech?

In case you don’t know or never think the answer is no.

Sense tells you so.

They don’t know.

A student is one who studies, look it up.

If I was rude I might say shut up.

So learn.

Then you may earn.

Tich Ennis

20th May, 2017



Are you taking the pill of life? Is it doing you good?

It will, touch wood.

Touch wood is superstition, never mind.

The harmless kind.

As long as you don’t believe it, take it or leave it.

For what or when or where is life the cure?

Illusion? Delusion?

Is the cure worse or better than the disease?

Are you on your knees?

I mention fleas.

In times like these.

Take the tablets one day at a time.

Read rhyme.

Life sentence for what crime?

Yours or mine?

Live coward or dead hero?

You killed your mother, Nero.

Must we take the blame?

For shame.

The first world war was based on illusion.

I thought I’d just say that, the hero delusion.

Stupidity has no limit nor the potential of the human race.

We live in more or less disgrace.

So it seems to me.

You may or may not agree.

Should we fight about it, shout about it or live in harmony?

What’s best for you and me?

Have you a clue?

How do you do?

I end here.

Thanks for your ear.

(Must I spell things out as to a child?

Peaceful tribes live in the wild).

Tich Ennis

19th May, 2017

UN Address

My fellow blithering eejits. It is with great pleasure that I accept your kind invitation to address you as the unknown gurrier, one among many. Humility, as we all know, is the greatest virtue but not widely practised, and so say all of us.

When eventually I am laid to rest in the tomb of the unknown gurrier, who shall shed a tear? Your place in history is assured, mine as a mute inglorious Milton merely an addendum. I am a statistic, a blip.

You are the men and women who know what to do.   It may be said of you you are the people who knew what had to be done. Yes. The result stands before you.   The judgement of history awaits.

You may write your own histories and I’m sure you will. Lies, damned lies and statistics. History is written by the victors. Who won the war? Truth, they say, is the first casualty. One among many.

The future lies before us. What else is new? Heroic mythology is all around, the good guys and the bad guys.   I know which side you are on. As you keep saying. How could I forget?

To always be right as you are must be pleasurable, you seem satisfied. What of the gurriers of the Earth? Do they matter? Apparently not. History happens.

What have we gurriers to look forward to except winning the lotto? In the lottery of life we drew the short straw. Cannon fodder. Tread lightly for you tread on my dreams.

In your place would I do the same? The same only different.   Is there no hope?   I wouldn’t go that far. We have a lot to look forward to.   A happy ending. And they all lived happily ever after.   A tall story.

I am a simple minded man. Problems are complex. Is there a simple solution? Is a simple solution best? To a simple minded man, yes. But what would I know?   You have power, I have not.

War and peace, fact or fiction? All too true, thanks to you. You have presided over many battles, to the victor the spoils. Power for its own sake. What power for the powerless?

Is right on your side? Who’s side are you on? The side of right or your side? The good guys get shot. Who has the bullets? You.

Is it true to say there are no good guys?   Good is a myth. It is, unless believed in. Belief is proved in practice. Actions speak louder than words. I believe what you do, not what you say.

The state we’re in is not a state of grace. I understand you all too well. You would try the patience of a saint. Thank you for allowing me to speak. I allow myself. Unspoken words, seldom heard.

The truth lies bleeding.

Tich Ennis

30th March, 2017


Various Points

The war has been called off owing to bad weather.

Will we ever get our heads together?

I’ll leave that one hanging there, in the air.

I thought of numbering the lines in this poem for ease of reference, but decided not to, out of deference.

I defer to your brain power, holy hour.

I had various thoughts running through my head such as will anyone ever listen to me, I do exist, you see.

I am a real cup of tea.

The best is yet to be.

Am I mad or glad or sad?

A choice of three.

I’ll wait and see.

Tich Ennis

20th March, 2017