Category Archives: Friends

Voice

What’s going on in the inside world, in the outside world, can the two of them combine?

If I were a dictator I would say speak with one voice, mine.

Luckily for you I’m not, I wished to be in times forgot.

Music tells us how to be, why can’t we live in harmony?

On your approach to the sublime do not forget to sing in time.

Tich Ennis

10th August, 2017

Explaining Myself

Or attempting to. What am I? Who am I? Do I matter? If so to who or, much less, what? Are these irrelevant questions? If irrelevant, irrelevant to what? To what matters. What does matter? You. You matter to me. Do I matter to you? You who hear or read these words. Does it matter if I matter to you? It matters to me. Does it matter to you if you matter to me? I suppose so. It should. Who says? I do. Am I what I say and do? To a large extent yes. In fact that is all that matters about me. You too? Yes. Questions are limited. How, where, what, why, when and who. Am I defined in those terms and are those things all there are to say about me? For me read you. What is the most important question? Not what, that’s for sure. Why is the question, the supreme question. Why am I? Why are you? Why not? Why a pear, an apple, a blade of grass? Our environment. The environment from which we spring and of which we are a part. Self aware matter. Does matter matter? Yes. For a while. Our life is a while. We could not exist in material form except in a material world. Or universe or galaxy. Does matter last forever? No. It changes form. Will I or you last forever? No. Not in material form. Life is a life sentence. Hard labour. I mention that in passing. Life is a passing thing. Why and how are important, more than what. Reality is the essence of the real. I am my essence, you are yours. You are how you are what you are. I attempt to explain myself but explain you. A poor explanation. Another word for essence is spirit. When the spirit leaves the body we are dead. Dead to the world. We are no more. In the eyes of the world. We are our spirit. How we are. I am I. You are you. You are your spirit, me too. Does this matter? The word matter again. The soul of the thing. The thing I am, but more than a thing. What is my wish? That people not be treated as things. I or you. Anyone anywhere. Speaking for myself I know people have not much time for my longer pieces such as this. Unparagraphed now as I write. Should I care? Yes. About that? I don’t know. Should people care for each other? Yes. Who is the other? You. Me too. There are more questions than answers. Always. Here in this piece for example. The question why is all important. I must be talking to myself. You too. Have I answered those questions about myself? It seems not. I still don’t know. Do you? About you? Meanwhile I press on regardless. What have I said? I don’t matter, I am not matter, not a thing. If I matter to myself I am wrong. You matter. Who will read these words? Almost no one perhaps. Only you. That makes two. Me and you. A dream come true. Poets ask these questions and answer them better than I. Every man his own poet. We are part of a poem, you and I. The poem is the universe. Words are stars sprinkled in the sky. The question why. Maybe I will answer before I die.

I have a friend in hospital, maybe I will read him this. He will say it is too long. He is usually right. So long.

I read it to him. He said blog it. As is.

Tich Ennis

24th July, 2017

Fancy That

I live in oblivion but I don’t like words like that.

I like words like dog and cat.

Fancy that.

I have made no mark on the world, I am alone, unhonoured and unsung.

I bite my tongue.

Its not quite that bad, I don’t want to be a drama queen.

I am, as far as I know, a human being.

Sooner or later everything comes to a conclusion.

I end now to avoid confusion.

Tich Ennis

23rd July, 2017

Shakespeare

The written word remains said Shakespeare for his pains.

I am no Shakespeare, I know.

I come, I go.

The truth comes dropping slow.

That’s all I know.

Tich Ennis

14th July, 2017

Hope

Is there a glimmer of hope for even the maddest dope?

Throw me a rope.

I walk across, at a loss.

The line is tight, alright, all night.

No safety net.

Not on your Nelly, you bet.

I’ll get there yet.

Where is there, it is not here, I’m only here for the beer.

Give me no push or shove, I search for love.

Heaven’s above.

Tich Ennis

14th July, 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

Top

I don’t want to lift your spirits any further than the top.

If I go too far, say stop.

So far, no, as far as I know I have no further to go.

Although there is a lot more to say.

Before I go away.

Every little thing matters, don’t say, not quite.

From small things big things are made, you were small, alright?

The whole Earth matters, every river, every tree.

Who says you don’t matter? Not me.

When you climb a hill you aim for the top.

Then and only then, say stop.

Tich Ennis

30th June, 2017