Axe

Everyone has an axe to grind.

When I say everyone I mean nearly everyone, do you mind?

Take the media, for example.

Look at a cross sample.

Video, print, whatever.

Are they objective never?

Hardly ever.

Similarly in politics and people supporting football teams.

Fairness? Honesty? In your dreams.

My country right or wrong is an old song.

As some black guy said, why can’t we get along?

His name was Rodney King if memory serves me right.

The white police were spoiling for a fight.

Goodnight.

Who knows wrong from right?

We have wars, dislike and hate because we choose.

That is the news.

No wonder black men sang the blues.

You would in their shoes.

In wars we lose.

How many dead and wounded on both sides?

As fish in the sea in waves and tides.

Pick up the pieces after, son or daughter, from the slaughter.

A child knows peace is best.

Harmony, music, a friend and the rest.

Out of the mouths of babes came forth the truth.

Must young men die in youth?

I say no.

And so I go.

Tich Ennis

18^th June, 2017

Spinner

I spin a web of golden threads from the story of my life, of this world, my world, your world, the Moon above, the universe.

I wish to free all that and those from war and want and misery, to free all of us above all else from a fatal curse.

A golden ladder to Heaven’s gate I wish to build, I wish to make, a bridge that all may cross who live under the Sun.

I dream this dream asleep, awake, I dream with every breath I take that all may be one.

Well, not quite, but more or less.

I’m only human, goodnight, God bless.

Tich Ennis

16^th June, 2017

My Work

People who are too intelligent won’t like my stuff, its not difficult enough.

You don’t have to strain to know what I mean, I come clean.

I prefer a simple explanation, do you?

Simplicity is true.

The truth is simple and profound and sound.

See you around.

Tich Ennis

16^th June, 2017

Rules Are For Fools

An indirect acquaintance of mine was in the U.N. army in Bosnia during the war.

That’s what the U.N. is for.

He and his comrades stood idly by while seven thousand men and boys were marched off to die.

I mean, be shot.

You probably heard of it, you hear a lot.

He said he felt awful, but what could he do?

I ask you.

The bloody bloodstained U.N. rules allowed them to do nothing, the fools.

If your house was on fire would you go on watching television? Oh well.

Welcome to Hell.

Rules are for normal circumstances not abnormal ones.

God preserve us from people with guns.

A man in Dublin would not leave a restaurant on fire because he paid for his steak.

The firemen dragged him out or else we would be at his wake.

For Heaven’s sake.

Some Irish guy said we’re Irish, we don’t do rules.

Now and then maybe but not always, we’re not all fools.

In dictatorships everything not compulsory is illegal.

Do rules apply to a Golden Eagle?

Tich Ennis

16^th June, 2017

Spring

Must I write every blooming thing?

Should I recite the seasons, including Spring?

Porn is not my thing.

Porn treats people as things, are you a thing?

Porn of every type is everywhere, to children, of children, with children, its in the air.

Do you care?

People like heroin, would you put in your children’s stew?

Is giving people what they want the thing to do?

I ask you.

My meandery mind is not made up.

Often I am told, shut up.

I say nothing everyone doesn’t know.

I told you so.

The truth is everywhere ignored.

Why heroin, are you bored?

There are many drugs and addictions, of course.

Computer games, don’t get me started, back a horse.

The inventor of the iPad would not let his children have one, ask why?

Does a drug dealer feed his children fantasy, truth or lie?

Very clever people sell their soul.

To part you from your money, make you pay a toll.

For what? For rubbish, waste your time.

A little goes a long way, like wine.

Nothing is inherently good or bad, too much of a good thing makes you mad.

I am sad.

Doing things because others do them makes no sense.

Who says you have to? Get up off the fence.

Alright, someday I will be dead.

These things should not go unsaid.

It’s as clear as day to me, look at our horrible history.

Now is now and one day will be past.

In living memory Jews were gassed.

I do not care about the colour of your skin or creed, I take no side.

Has truth nowhere to hide?

Look inside.

Pretend you don’t understand, what do you want to happen in your land?

How about old fashioned love and peace?

They had more sense in ancient Greece.

This is not my last poem, I guarantee.

You will hear more from me.

When do people die, when they are fed up?

I’m not dead yet, I will not shut up.

Drink the loving cup.

Its all so bloody obvious, I don’t want to curse.

Are you afraid of something worse?

Things are bad enough, too bad, the way they are.

Truth is my guiding star.

If I do not shut up why do you?

If you prefer it, do it, be true.

I am like you.

I’m just another you.

Trying to be true.

That will do.

For me and you.

Now I have a coffee to drink and a cigarette to smoke.

Perhaps I’ll ring a friend and tell a joke.

I’m not sorry I spoke.

I’ll leave it at that, I can’t go on forever.

When will the truth be, never?

I won’t say hardly ever.

That’s it, I’m tired.

I have not expired.

Old, but not retired.

End, begin. Win.

I really can’t go on.

Sometimes I go on too long.

So long.

Au revoir, before you say get out.

I prefer a whisper to a shout.

Leave me out.

I am driven nearly mad by life but not quite.

Before I die I hope to see things right.

Goodnight.

Yes, I do mean what I say.

Good day.

No one thinks anyone means what they say.

How on Earth can you talk to people then?

Am I alone among men?

I know I do have followers, some few.

Thank you.

Followers on my blog I mean.

As a boy I ate ice cream.

I still do on rare occasions when Summer shows its head.

I’m not dead.

As I seem to go on and never stop I now, for now, shut up shop.

I look forward to Spring.

Do your thing.

Tich Ennis

15^th June, 2017

Intensity

The intensity of feeling when it is for something or someone good.

How can we understand things, are we lost in a wood?

How may I explain love and hurt and death and pain?

Must I explain all to you and me too?

I do my best, I am a smoker, drinker, thinker.

Can a man in a pub give the brass jug a rub?

Call forth the genie, make a wish, enlightenment is all.

I muse, I wonder, write words here, I love large and small.

Zeitgeist is a word that means the spirit of the age.

It is filled with hatred, greed, gluttony and rage.

Indifference is not quite complete.

When may true hearts meet?

I am quite old, must it go on like this?

Is there joy in life more than a lover’s kiss?

Oh bliss.

I’m not sure how to end this poem or my life.

Many girls could have been my wife.

What is or was or could be everlasting joy?

Playing with a hoop when I was a boy.

Tich Ennis

14^th June, 2017

Unwritten Books

Bubbles in the Bath by Wynne D. Bottom

Stains on the Wall by Hoo Flung Dung. He’s a Chinaman.

Heard in the playground at age ten. Need I be more specific? There were others, some of which I heard and others they would not tell me because they said I was too innocent. I would like a complete list of them for posterity’s sake, and to make me laugh.

They say everyone has a book in them, with some maybe it should stay there. At least in written form. We write the story of our own lives, for better or worse.

The nub of the issue. I die, I face God.

God: What did you do with your life?

Me: Nothing much. This and that. Kissed girls, drank beer, gave good parties. Danced. Listened to music. Went out. Talked with people, known and unknown. Had friends. A lot of nothing.

God: So I see.

Me: If you know everything why ask me? Is this a case of out of their own mouths they are condemned?

God: Something like that. And to pass the time of day.

Me: Am I going to Heaven or Hell?

God: It’s a matter of choice. Which do you prefer?

Me: I don’t know. Irish people say they want to go to Hell, all their friends will be there. People say Heaven would be boring.

God: What do you think?

Me: Perfection can’t be boring.

God: Have you met perfection?

Me: I’m talking to you amn’t I?

God: In real life?

Me: What we laughingly call real life. If I haven’t then something very close to it. From time to time.

God: Often?

Me: No.

God: What do you want?

Me: The same only different. A little of what you fancy does you good. Me too.

God: What were you told at school?

Me: We are vehicles for the truth.

God: What did you think?

Me: I don’t know the truth. Maybe I will when I’m older.

God: What age were you?

Me.: Ten.

God: Years?

Me: Not days. If you weren’t God I’d say don’t be stupid.

God: That wouldn’t be nice.

Me: Nice is fake good.

God: Now you’re talking.

Me: I thought the truth was something said in words.

God: What do you say now?

Me: It is done, not spoken. Words may be lies.

God: They often are. Too often. Words can be true.

Me: Words mean nothing if not put into action.

God: Did you follow that in your life?

Me: I wrote and spoke words. Often for fun. Shaw said if you want to write a comedy tell the truth. Nothing is funnier than the truth.

God: Do you love the truth?

Me: It’s the only thing.

God: If I send you to Hell will you convert others to your way of thinking?

Me: That’s the divil of a job.

God: I asked him but he was busy.

Me: I don’t know what to say.

God: I will put words in your mouth.

Me: Is this like being a Hindu, getting another go?

God: Keep going until you get it right.

Me: Is Hell eternal?

God: It could be. Maybe yes, maybe no. Not unless you want it to be.

Me: Why me?

God: That’s what they all say.

Me: I’ll have a go. I might as well be doing something as nothing.

God: That’s the spirit.

Me: Will I forget this?

God: Yes. You always do.

Me: Sorry to keep you waiting.

God: The man who made time made plenty of it. On the count of three, go. One, two, three.

Me: I’m gone.

After that brief digression back to unwritten books. Who will write a book to change the world? A friend asked that and said he knows it could not happen. Who believes in miracles? Some. Sorry to keep you waiting.

Tich Ennis

13^th June, 2017