Category Archives: Friends

Rasta Guitar

4th May 2018

Tim,

Here are two recordings from BBC Radio 4 of this month and last, Guitar Maker (Roger Bucknall) and Rastafarian Poet, the life story of Benjamin Zephaniah, read by himself. As well as a song of this year, Someone Out There Loves You, sung by Rae Morris.

If I ever buy a guitar if I ever have the money I would like to get it from Roger Bucknall, one of the great accoustic guitar makers of the world. To make a great guitar requires great knowledge of woods and other materials and a lot of skill, care and attention, the Devil is in the detail.

More than one person (two) have said about my singing I should learn the guitar, in the meantime what, air guitar?   The guitar sounds on the Bucknall CD are surpassingly beautiful.

Zephaniah, U.K. born, of Jamaican ancestry, asks why do white people hate us? Good question. He was a poet, a gangster, then a poet again. It sometimes seems it helps to be a member of an oppressed community if a person wishes to be an artist, it provides motivation. Not that anger is a pleasant emotion.

Persecution is good for you said someone known to you and me. You have to be twice or three times as good to get promotion if you are a woman or black. The rich are deprived. Wealth is of the spirit. Money in the right hands is as wonderful as anything else.

I have a lot of other recordings on my computer I can send you over time. I hope you enjoy these.

I might send you a DVD of myself reading some of my stuff if I get around to making it. Once a technophobe, always a technophobe. Before I tell you the solution to this problem tell me how difficult it is because when I tell you the answer you will say how obvious it is, said Sherlock to Dr. Watson.

Dr. Watson was painting a door lemon. Sherlock Holmes walked by. Lemon entry Watson, he said.

Must I?

I sold two copies of my singing CD, Great Irish Songs, to a couple outside a café here this week. At this rate it will take me a long time to become a million seller. No answer from Claddagh Records about the disc I gave them, I must not be purist enough for them. Long live the common people!

Best wishes and happy listening from David (Tich) Ennis

 

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The Road

There is a road where our house used to be a man said to me.

My old family home has now thirteen houses on the site, alright.

The only constant is change said some Indian man.

Is this God’s plan?

If things remained the same life would be very tame.

More of the same.

Each day is different, you have good days and bad.

Don’t let the weather drive you mad.

Its not that bad.

I lived in a house with a lovely view, now I’m happy where I am.

God don’t say damn.

What a fool I am.

Someone said I should write a song.

Where do I belong?

This is my song.

Don’t let me go wrong.

How long, oh Lord, how long?

How long is the road home?

Home is where you are.

So said my guiding star.

I am, I am, you are.

Friends disappear and new ones come along.

A neverending song.

I sing my song.

Move with the times or die.

I tell no lie.

Tich Ennis

14th February, 2018

Healer

Today I met a healer who cannot cure smoking, no joking.

He has not given up because it helps him to relax, these are the facts.

He said smoking is an addiction, you have to want to give up.

Tell yourself to shut up.

It takes all sorts to make a world and I have met quite a few.

Some as mad as me or you.

One man said he carries a gun in case someone in a pub starts a fight.

So you shoot him, goodnight.

His behaviour was completely weird, but he seemed serious.

If you ask me he was delirious.

Tich Ennis

10th February, 2018

Normal People

Normal people like my stuff, so I heard, that’s enough.

Young and old alike, the rest get on your bike.

I sing what I like.

The best of the old is great, it was new once, age is your fate.

Why hesitate?

I won’t say more, I could say less.

My parting words, God bless.

It cheers me up to ring a friend, try it, this is not the end.

Make do and mend.

Eternal friend.

Tich Ennis

7th February, 2018

Oldie

In my declining years I said no to death and to Heaven said hello.

As John Wayne said when you gotta go you gotta go.

A man must do what a man must do, that’ll be the day.

Parents of teenage daughters get down on your knees and pray.

I spent my young years in thrall to the silver screen.

Then came Bill Haley, Elvis and James Dean.

Popcorn and ice cream.

Then came the words The End, the national anthem drives me round the bend.

All stand up and home we go.

Jukebox cure my woe.

Rock’n’roll and dancing and romancing.

I never said no.

Now at last life comes to an end.

I am remembered by a friend.

Glorious technicolour, wide screen.

Death of a human being.

I did not want to go, I fought against it to the last.

I have a wonderful past.

I remember you and you remember me.

The best is yet to be.

At last I’m free.

Tich Ennis

11th December, 2017

Dedicated to the memory of Michael O’Brien

Best Friend

My best friend died today, my friend when young and old.

Should his story be told?

He served in the U.S. army during Vietnam, he served uncle Sam.

But in Germany where nothing was going on, he was called up, drafted, trained, then gone.

He was an Irish citizen working in the U.S.A., unamerican as were a quarter of the boys sent away.

I don’t wish to write an epic, the thought would make me sick.

He served two years then went back and worked again then was called up again.

He emigrated to Australia, a man among men.

So, draft dodger, you are dead.

You could have died in Vietnam instead.

I don’t feel you’ve really gone away, I feel your presence, friendship is here to stay.

Now I must plug along alone without you on the phone.

May I live up to you and friendship too.

You said you wanted to leave nothing behind.

I have your memory in my mind.

You were part of what makes life good.

I would be with you if I could.

I never will forget.

I’m glad we met.

I could go on and on about how good it was to know you but I don’t feel you’ve gone.

With me you live on.

You believed in me and what I do.

May there be more like you.

My brother wanted me to add to this stuff, but I think this is enough.

Okay, you died on Elvis’s birthday, so I heard.

I won’t say another word.

Tich Ennis

8th January, 2018

Expecting Nothing

I expect nothing from you and you expect nothing from me.

You may tweet till you’re blue in the face, as blue as the sea.

If I follow you will you follow me, get lost, drop dead attention seeker, the world shall be inherited by the meeker.

Fake news, fake friends, would you lend or give me money?

Of course not you don’t mean a thing fake person, does a bee make honey?

So I follow no one, why should I?

Do the good guys have to die?

I must say not absolutely all are fake.

That would be a big mistake.

Tich Ennis

18th November, 2017