Category Archives: Heaven

Fancy Free

Money and me are passing acquaintances, money is fancy free.

I borrow from a friend to bring music to you.

You and you and you and me too.

Artists only buy from each other an artist said.

Are we all artists before we’re dead?

I wrote a book, I sang a song, how long, oh Lord, how long?

For a joke God made a money tree.

I sit under the apple tree.

My pockets are empty, can’t you see?

Tich Ennis

16th October, 2017

Advertisements

Perfection

Perfection knows no flaw, maybe I never saw.

If scenery is any indication we have some good stuff in this nation.

Perfection, to which I aspire, is it always higher?

Before I expire in the mire.

How good is my best, I suppose I know.

Its good, alright, I’ll let it go.

Only best is good enough for me.

Whether it be gold or a cup of tea.

Or a meal at a hotel.

I dislike saying oh well.

Hell and Heaven are opposite extremes.

Must we be in between?

You know what I mean.

The middle way is not good enough.

If you don’t like this poem, tough.

This is my kind of stuff.

You probably know words like mediocre, mediocrity.

How about a plastic covered sea?

I say what I see.

Perfection, no, I have not found.

Music?

I like the sound.

Tich Ennis

9th October, 2017

Sayings

You can’t reveal the truth without revealing yourself. So it has been said.

I am alive, not dead.

The truth, when perfectly expressed, is incontrovertible.

I never owned a convertible.

The truth, though imperfectly expressed, is still the truth.

I read these sayings in my youth.

Is there something else I have forgotten?

Eugene O’Neill wrote A Moon for the Misbegotten.

Yes, T.S. Eliot said the truth is what is most hated.

This is the end of this poem, I’m glad you waited.

It is necessary to confront evil in order to defeat it.

You know it when you meet it.

I thought I’d throw that one in.

To leave it out would be a sin.

Tich Ennis

17th September, 2017

Strange Prayer

I’d have to be better than God to give up smoking.

Only joking.

I am pretty old but I haven’t given up yet.

Living that is, and the old wine cup, you bet.

Alright, beer, or as I call it, stout.

Am I found out?

Lord make me good but not yet was Saint Augustine’s prayer.

Before he became a saint, I am not there.

To be smoke free would improve my financial position.

Otherwise I am in good condition.

Heal thyself, physician.

To give up would make one or two people glad.

And I would be less mad.

Not bad.

If God is doing the right thing then its up to me.

The rest is history.

Or should I say the past.

I was a trawler fisherman, my years before the mast.

I end in inconsequentiality.

Wait and see.

Tich Ennis

12th September, 2017

To Do

I want to fix the world and bring an end to war and want.

The truth is staring me in the face, I can do it and you can’t.

I left home today without eating porridge.

I ate from the tree of forbidden knowledge.

As I walked to the café I saw litter on the ground.

Sometimes I pick some up, it would make a mound.

I ordered a breakfast, it costs eight ninety-five.

I want to stay alive.

When will I get around to doing the things I want to and should do?

Would it incur your displeasure if I say the same to you?

Tich Ennis

11th September, 2017

Game

Playing hide and seek with God, will I ever find him?

My turn, your turn, my turn again, he’s crying, don’t you mind him.

Blind man’s buff, that other game, find although you’re blind.

Guess who, its you, the other guy, oh no, oh me, oh my.

Tip and tig, an Irish jig, who will be caught out?

Oh God you’re there oh do I care, turn and turn about.

Will you catch me, will I catch you, I’ve had the measles, caught the ‘flu, spent days and nights in bed.

When I play a game I know I am alive not dead.

If you don’t catch me I’ll catch you instead.

Tich Ennis

10th September, 2017

All Roads

All roads lead everywhere unless it’s a cul-de-sac.

If it’s a cul-de-sac turn back.

On a straight road you can’t go round the bend.

A long road seems to have no end.

May the road rise up to meet you and the wind be at your back.

A long straight road is called a tramp’s heartbreak, that’s a fact.

Boreen means small road, or maybe a lane.

Here I mean, not in Spain.

Dark alleys have a bad reputation.

In more or less every nation.

Don’t believe you can’t get there from here.

At the end of the road enjoy a beer.

Tich Ennis

9th September, 2017