Category Archives: Heaven

Monastic Life

I applied to become a monk but was turned down.

Not being debt free raised a frown.

Also I am too old, I can’t help that.

I thought I might be stress free, fancy that.

I got a nice email in return, spelling it all out.

Aspects of the monastic life would not suit me, no doubt.

Possibly my motivation was wrong.

As I said before, where do I belong?

Jim Reeves had a song, this world is not my home.

Maybe I should become a garden gnome.

Tich Ennis

19th February, 2018

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Rich And Famous

If I became rich and famous might I become obnoxious, I asked a friend, he said do you mean more obnoxious than you are?

I don’t own a car.

God may be sparing me for something, but what the Hell?

Oh well.

Fame has not gone to my head, I have obscurity instead.

Its not hard to be humble when no one knows you’re there.

Ask me, see if I care.

Could I possibly stand up to fame?

You don’t know my name.

I am honest, I am poor.

May the truth endure.

Tich Ennis

7th February, 2018

The Question

My best friend Michael O’Brien said I will be famous after I’m dead.

He died first, instead.

Do I want fame for myself, no.

The truth comes dropping slow.

I want what everyone wants but hardly dares to expect.

World peace, an end to war and argument as you might suspect.

I write my words, they say the same.

Allow children play a game.

Maybe Michael’s right, may my words be true.

I want a perfect world for you.

How about me too?

A perfect world requires perfected people, they are rare.

The burning question, do you care?

Tich Ennis

2nd February, 2018

The Troubles

The trouble with Ireland is all the hardworking, intelligent, energetic people emigrated. I stayed behind, draw your own conclusions.

Some people come to live in Ireland. What the Hell for? The weather? It takes all sorts to make a world. Once there were nothing but Irish people here or more or less, God was it boring. All the buildings falling down and all that sort of thing.

If you go to England you can meet Irish people, but why? Or Spain or America or wherever the Hell else. Avoid Irish pubs, they rip you off. Okay for one day, they will tell you the good places to go, somewhere else is a good idea.

So some Irish guy was in a pub in America going on and on about how wonderful Ireland is, the people, the music, the mountains, the scenery and so on and on and on. If its such a great little country why did you leave it, said his drinking companion.

We Irish love to talk. So a friend of mine was in a foreign country not very far away and he started talking to the man beside him.   The other man, who was not Irish, said you came here to drink, why do you want to talk? That question would not make sense in Ireland.

During the seventies the I.R.A. were bombing, shooting and murdering everyone, mostly each other. We called that the troubles. The second world war was called the emergency in Ireland. Do we ever call things what they are?   We were neutral during that war, but neutral on which side?

Come to Ireland, its better than nothing. It’ll do to be going on with. But don’t stay long, we might drive you mad.   If you’re not mad already.   Ireland is a state of mind, it exists only in the imagination. The imagination of a drunk God. We take after him. What are you having yourself?

I could go on and on, being Irish, but its closing time. Have you no homes to go to?   We have your money, you can go home now. A barman at closing time.   The long goodbye.

So some American came back from the toilet in a bar in Dublin. He said there’s no lock on the toilet door.   I never heard of anyone stealing a shit said the barman. That’s Ireland for you.   Me too.

I’m Irish, what do you expect?

Tich Ennis

22nd January, 2018

 

 

Last Option

Now at last I do or die.

Or at least try.

I cannot pay one who knows, I can’t afford new clothes.

No money, don’t you understand?

I don’t, things are not grand.

I myself must find out how, that’s the best way.

I may ring one last friend, today.

Writing this is postponement, I must make atonement.

For what I am not sure, maybe a lazy mind.

I am not the thinking kind.

Some things come easily to me.

Not everything, you see.

My best friend believed in me.

So I will try, and hopefully achieve.

I must myself believe.

Others have done it, so can I.

I tell myself that is no lie.

It will happen if I try.

I have no other choice, its up to me.

I will do it, wait and see.

Tich Ennis

15th January, 2018

 

Fantasy And Reality

I am considering entering the digital world, publishing digitally, the real world having failed me miserably. I view the digital world with some revulsion for not being the real thing. I am real and live in reality, literally and metaphorically.   Those who live in the digital world wouldn’t know reality if it bit them in the you know where.   Fantasy addicts everyone. Clinics for their treatment have been set up in South Korea, or try Lourdes.

So why enter this fantastical phantasmagoria, the enemy of flesh and blood, mania itself, home of addicts, fantasists and deluded self- made fools, to coin a phrase?   To rescue them from their delusion and myself from misery.   Bring sanity to the mad house.   Set my people free.

In the real world books are made of paper, see them, feel them, smell them, drop them on your toe and know they’re there. Not so in the virtual world.   The Library of Congress in your hand but nothing in reality.   Suppose a power failure, what then? Does madness ensue? Lost without your phone.   Curl up with a book, a real book. Kiss a real girl.

So I too enter the mad house for I hope a short stay.   To visit those who fly from reality, fear it, hate it, ignore it and treat it as not existing. I know the feeling, c’est la grande illusion.   Brush up your French.

My purpose is nothing less than to bring reality to life.   The virtual world is a stepping stone to the real thing, a stone’s throw away as you might say, not to put words in your mouth.   Step one: the virtual world. Step two: the real world. When I find the key to the virtual world. So I must approach the drug peddlers.

Everyone and his aunt describes themself as a writer or author today because they live in the virtual world publishing their work there, but who buys? Almost no one. Who gets rich? The digital media barons, the drug peddlers.   You might as well scrawl on a wall.

So I will enter the world of the deluded, the fantasists, because I have nowhere else to go. The real world does not want me or my wares. It having been taken over by fantasy.   I enter your world in a reverse take over bid.   When? When I get around to it. I act the madman with an aching heart so as to conform but it is only an act. I hate myself for doing it.   But do it I will.

I am no conceptual artist. I believe in the realisation of concepts and many other things which appear to have been forgotten in this age of fantasy. Fantasy is fake reality.   Ideally I exist in both worlds, I and my work. Until the real thing comes along.

So I shall be coming soon to a device near you.  Don’t say you weren’t warned.

Tich Ennis

19th January, 2018

Patreon – Maybe?

I am considering signing up for the artists’ patronage site, Patreon.  At a glance it appears good or maybe very good.  I don’t allow myself to get excited.  Some guy said he doesn’t believe in positive thinking because you think its going to happen and it doesn’t then you get all depressed.

Where have all the patrons gone?  Gone to the digital world, everyone.  There goes the mob, I am their leader, I must follow them.  After further consideration.  Look before you leap.  Yesterday we stood on the edge of an abyss, today we take a great leap forward – Russian politician.

My most recent poem blogged here, Sinn Fein, is not my most recent poem, I normally put them up chronologically, in order of writing.  I suppose I’ll get around to putting that earlier one up.   I need to read up about Patreon.

Its snowing here now, first snow I’ve seen for a long time.  Predicted, but predictions are often unreliable.  You can’t be wrong all the time.

About Patreon, when I know what, how, and why I may write further on that topic.  If it works, it works.  It appears to work for some, as far as I can see from a brief study.

I feel my stuff is uncategorisable, does not fit any niche or genre, I know some like it.  The real world and the virtual, the real world is more expensive.  Matter matters, matter costs.  Paper, ink, printing, plastic discs, but I like that world too.  It is my first love.

So I climb a learning curve.  Slow learner though I be.  I desire a comprehensive overview.  I feel it may take me three days to get there, the summit, apex, pinnacle, look up your thesaurus.  Top.  From where I will survey the scene.

Where to have the picnic?  Or whether, weather permitting.  The top will do, enjoy the view.  Birds may eat the crumbs.  The joy of alfresco, no floor to sweep up.  And if you spill your drink don’t panic.  Far from the kitchen sink.

Patreon here I come but will you notice?  New worlds to conquer, said the unwanted immigrant.  Napoleon was not French, I console myself with that thought.  An outsider.  With an objective view.

Does anyone want my tourist postcards?

Tich Ennis

16th January, 2018