Category Archives: Fourth Estate

Screaming Headlines

Oh God is it the end of the world right now?

I’m not ready anyhow.

You mean like that’s it?

Time to quit?

I have things to do, I don’t know about you.

If I believed what you say I’d call it a day.

Heck, its not that bad.

One of us is mad.

Is it your job to make us worry?

Be in a hurry?

Pull the other one, its got bells on it.

I’m not ready to quit.

That’s it.

Tich Ennis

11th November, 2017



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.


Another wonderful day, as Beckett said.

Cheer up, you could be dead.

Tich Ennis

30th June, 2017


Mad Poet

I wrote two poems yesterday, one called Care. I rang a friend and read them to him.  He said I sounded angry. I don’t want to sound angry.

Me: Do you think I was always mad or am I going mad in my old age?

He: I think the former rather than the latter.

Me: I’m glad to hear it. I wouldn’t like to think I am deteriorating in my old age.

He laughed.   I asked another friend if I got rich and famous might I become obnoxious?   Do you mean more obnoxious than you are, he asked?

An English girl barmaid in the same place said the Irish are very friendly until you get to know them. She chooses to live here. Is she a masochist? Join the club.

In life we must choose the least worst option. It’s a matter of choice.   My brother and I had a car accident when an English couple drove head on into us. My head hit the windscreen and I was temporarily unconscious. Did your whole life flash before your eyes, a barman asked? It was like a porn movie I said.

An Irish writer said a friend of his swore he saw a headline in an Irish paper, Irish girl killed by English train. They’re still doing it to us said another person.

Being Irish is defined as not being English, said an Irishman, not me. We’re Irish, we don’t do rules, said someone else.

If I am a poet why am I writing prose? What is prose, asked a barman who reads five books a week? Anything that isn’t poetry I said. Is a poet mad to write prose? Quite likely. A politician said we campaign in poetry, we govern in prose. A would be senator who failed to get elected said the people have spoken, the bastards. Similarly, the British voted for Brexit.

Do people know what’s good for them? They vote for heroin, cannabis, obesity, eating disorders and many other fads and fancies, with their feet and their mouths. What is populism? Giving the people what they want, not what they need. They don’t want that. Self inflicted wounds are the hardest to heal.

Populism is popular, the easy option. Its always someone else’s fault. Like blaming the English in Ireland. Who runs this bit of it anyway?

The Irish are an acquired taste. I dislike the term love-hate but it will do to be going on with. Says I who am Irish. Yours madly,

Tich Ennis

30th May, 2017



If you don’t care what words mean you don’t care what anything means including you.

I do.

Politicians and journalists please note, you have truth by the throat.

Is life a lie, a game, a dirty look?

Not in my book.

Do or dare.

If you care.

You might as well not be there.

Why are people fed up with you?

You rotten crew.

Because you are not true.

You steer our ship on to the rocks, give us electric shocks.

Speak the truth for once, you dunce.

For once and for all.

You don’t fool me at all.

That’s all.

This may seem an angry rant.

You do.

I can’t.

Tich Ennis

29th May, 2017


Dream Poetry

I dream poetry.

Is something wrong with me?

Sometimes I write them down.

Sometimes I am a clown.

Sometimes I shut up.

Sometimes I put up.

Like this one here now.

Its better than nothing anyhow.

Tich Ennis

26th May, 2017



Kevin Myers

       Good article by you in today’s Sunday Times on social media, which I may or may not fully agree with. its not all bad, it has its good points when used well. Drugs serve a purpose, good and bad.
       I hate to see an eight year old walking along with her head buried in a machine.  Teachers say four year olds come to school not knowing how to talk to others.  My brother said young people today don’t know how to write a letter, they don’t even know how to talk said a friend.
       A recent book said children should not go to school until they are six so they learn how to socialise.  A friend cheered when I said that.
       Could you do an article on post-truth and fake news?  See Post Truth, the New War on Truth and how to Fight Back by Matthew D’Ancona reviewed in the same paper along with another book on the same topic.  These may not fully cover the subject.  Hear the podcast from BBC Radio 4 of last week in, I think, Start the Week on that subject, which is very good.
        A Chinese woman was good on the topic, D’Ancona also spoke.
        God knows there is much to criticise in the modern age.  A friend, a lecturer, said half the subjects in university are just there to make money for the university.  A fake world?
         Keep up the good work.  see Voltaire on free speech, also under attack today.
          Keep smiling,
Tich Ennis
22nd May, 2017


I have the name of this poem written but what will I say?

A journalist’s problem that will not go away.

I have part of a page to fill more or less against my will.

Its quite easy, really, let it flow, hold on and don’t let go.

I had something quite different planned but this happened instead.

I am old but not quite dead.

This poem has zero to do with the title or headline.

Its over, I made my deadline.

Tich Ennis

17th May, 2017