Category Archives: Heaven

Litter

Should I write a poem about the bad things in life, a mugger’s weapon or a surgeon’s knife?

A knife may be used for good or ill, to cure or kill.

Dirt is misplaced matter, eat the wrong food and get fatter.

Uranium makes a bomb or an x-ray, kill or cure children while they play.

I hate the word nice, nice is fake good, I should take my advice.

Superstition is not good, touch wood.

Does a gun serve any useful purpose except as a paper weight?

Skaters skate a figure of eight.

Self defence it was decided in the year four hundred is alright.

Make a preemptive strike, goodnight.

I am not quite so sure.

May peace and love endure.

Tich Ennis

16th August, 2017

Coin

The good things and the bad things are both made by man.

Two sides of a coin, thats God’s plan.

Do you need to toss a coin to make your choice?

Choose good, then rejoice.

You made your choice.

A coin may balance on its edge.

Sucicides stand on a ledge.

In life we take rough with the smooth, good and bad.

Sane and mad.

Good makes you glad.

Tich Ennis

26th July, 2017

God’s Fatal Error

He made me. I let him down.

Into a hole in the ground.

The rest is history.

It is no mystery.

He trusted me.

I will exhume if I can.

To fulfill his plan.

God being God can rise again.

The question, when?

When I get down to it.

Should I do it?

I suppose so.

Here I go.

Call me mister Slow.

Now I know.

His mistake was mine.

It happens all the time.

Tich Ennis

26th July, 2017

Heart And Head

A heartless society would be awful and a mindless society would be mad.

Can heart and head be at one in a day to make us glad?

Lesser options are sad.

Can art provide the answer where skill and care are one?

That appears to me to be the case, behold the setting sun.

When eternal war comes to an end we face eternity.

Another name, another time, peace, infinity.

Oh, may it be!

Tich Ennis

16th July, 2017

Advanced Years

Just when I get too old good art exhibitions come here.

Caravaggio and Vermeer.

The world is becoming a smaller place.

It knows its place in outer space.

So, what should I do?

I have a free bus ticket too.

I suppose I should go.

The real thing is what I want to know.

Money is dead and gone.

I live on.

Maybe not too old.

I want real gold.

Should I, as a book selling barrow boy shouted, get culture before the cataclysm?

Or maybe that was the catechism.

Tich Ennis

12th July, 2017

Molecules

Does every molecule of matter matter, yes it does.

I am made of them, you too.

Me and you.

Read up about them, it will blow your mind.

It reads like fantasy, the strangest kind.

Electrons made of electricity whizzing around.

The speed of light without a sound.

How much is butter, a pound?

Gravity and other forces come into play.

It will all become clear some day.

Tich Ennis

14th July, 2017

Shred

Should I write every shred before I’m dead?

Do not dismiss others without a thought.

Love cannot be bought.

Is it pointless for me to write things down?

What is the point of a circus, the clown?

I suppose so, yes.

That’s true, I guess.

Suppose no one came, no one wanted to see or hear?

There’s always the next town when you’re not wanted here.

I might mention beer.

Be of good cheer.

Tich Ennis

14th July, 2017