Category Archives: Nature

Late

I’ve left it rather late to do anything at all.

I like writing most of all.

So I write, that’s what I do.

Do I sound anything like you?

I thought I couldn’t do it, now I don’t care.

I feel, the words are there.

I’m old, shall my story be told?

The most boring subject is oneself, that book stays on the shelf.

Everyone’s life is interesting, so I heard.

I believe in the word.

I wanted to write when young, and did some, sometimes I bit my tongue.

Don’t want to be, just do.

An old man’s advice to you.

Tich Ennis

17th January, 2018

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Converging Concepts

Maths, art, science, literature, philosophy, religion are converging to a single point.

A Russian scientist said that, whom the saints anoint.

Speaking for myself, I concur.

I who infrequently err.

Love is where you find it wherever that may be.

An old pop song or a cup of tea.

Did Adam and Eve do wrong or did they make a mistake?

The Reader’s Digest said that in my years of heartache.

I made mistakes in my time.

Who is without crime?

Everything should rhyme.

I do be and I does be talking rot.

That’s not all I’ve got.

Whoever is responsible, thanks a lot.

I think this poem is rather good but who am I to say?

Have it your way.

Perhaps the last two lines should be in parentheses or, as you might say, bracket.

If you have a bad child do you smack it?

Tich Ennis

4th December, 2017

Gentle River

I watch the river flow while dirty go.

Its cold I know.

A black bird in the shade well made.

Looking for a crumb or two in the view.

Its less cold than an hour ago.

Possibly Winter snow.

The bird found something but did not sing.

His voice is raw, a caw.

I see a duck and more wildlife, flying by.

Its peaceful here, never mind the time of year.

Where only man is vile a poet said.

One who’s dead.

Some traffic going gently by.

I smoke a cigarette.

Bye bye.

Tich Ennis

13th November, 2017

Outside World

Should I join the outside world, become part of a part?

Here perhaps I should make mention of my aching heart.

Your bureaucracy does not appeal to me.

You see.

That’s not me.

Still when in Rome and all that sort of thing.

I swear fealty to no king.

I suppose I can ring up and maybe find a human there.

This ape would escape his cage and breathe free air.

I’m almost there.

Is this enough to say right now?

I’ll get there sometime, somehow.

That’s all for now.

Expect the unexpected, a knock on your door.

I like your ceiling, can I take the floor?

Tich Ennis

9th November, 2017

Long Poem

Well, long for me.

No one does.

Do you agree?

I am not beer but I am here.

I disappear.

Should I say more?

I have the floor.

No wish to bore.

I bear in mind your short attention span.

So goodbye, I am a man.

Tich Ennis

28th October, 2017

Full Flower

Art and science walk hand in hand, shall we allow them to despoil the land?

At their best they are wonderful, supreme, at their worst an adolescent dream.

To be mature or immature, wine aged in the wood.

Or whiskey ten year old, its good.

Thought and imagination find their flower now and then.

Oftentimes we wait and wait, saying oh God when?

At any level good is good, trees and shrubs make up the wood.

Some stand tall and stately, magnificently made.

Affording, as someone said, the weary traveller shade.

Tich Ennis

28th September, 2017

Sloppy Guy

I am a messy sloppy guy, don’t ask the reason why.

I was born to feel not think, I can do things, I write with ink.

Technical explanations leave me cold, I have grown to be so very old.

When they tell me what to do but leave out how I’m all at sea I cannot plough.

So I should ask some other guy, less sloppy than you or I.

Maybe some guy says it clear, I wish he would show up here.

Or preferably do it for me while I drink a cup of tea.

Will that ever be?

Why leave it all to me?

Set me free.

Yours frustratedly.

I want to do things in the simplest possible way.

That’s all I’ve got to say.

Today.

Or for now anyway.

Tich Ennis

2nd September, 2017