Category Archives: Personal Taste

Sock

Deer Oirish Riters’ Soc, I want to rite but should I?

I can’t spell, but what the Hell?

Does grammar matter, should a thin person be fatter?

A writer must have something to say more than have a nice day.

Nothing rhymes with I except die.

That’s not completely true, are you?

I’ll put a sock in it for now.

Have a nice day despite the rain anyhow.

Tich Ennis

16th August, 2017

Contradiction

I said I would post no more to my blog yet here I am again. So, I changed my mind, what’s wrong with that?

I just talked with my best friend Michael O’Brien on the phone. He said to put my poem Believe Me on my blog, so I did, just now.

Why do I write? To make money? No. Posting to a blog makes no money. Michael more or less said to put all my stuff up there, although he agreed with me recently not to give everything away for nothing.

It costs nothing to post to my blog.

Man does not live by bread alone, but does need bread. (Bread = money, hippy talk). I have almost no bread in the house, of either kind. I will buy two loaves in the cheapest supermarket later today.

I have no idea what the future holds. (Predictions are impossible, especially about the future).

I write because I love it. Is my writing good? That’s not for me to say. If someone else wrote it, would I like it? Yes. Then there would be no need for me to write it.

Does what I write need to be said? I think so. I believe so. So I say it, so I do it.

Have any real live people I meet face to face liked my writing? Yes. Not only one. Genuine people, people I trust and like. So that’s something. So its worth doing. I mean every word I say. I believe meaning. Is there anything else to believe? No. That is my message. All the time, for all time.

There is more rubbish on the internet than good stuff but there is good stuff. The world is the same. More bad stuff than good stuff but there is good stuff. (What’s rare is valuable).

Don’t lose hope.

Tich Ennis

9th August, 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

Jukebox

The gloss and glitter of an old jukebox,

play rhythm and blues, the music rocks.

Play something slushy, play something sweet,

the music gets you right off your feet.

Elvis, Chuck, Fats, Little Richard, Buddy, Eddie Cochran,

the music’s great, its gone, gone, gone.

The Promised Land, oh yeah, Chuck Berry,

Rock ‘n’ Roll music gets you there in a hurry.

Don’t forget Brenda Lee, Sweet Nothin’s, Fool Number One.

Play Stupid Cupid, Connie Francis, under the setting sun.

Never force anything, feel it, that’s the way.

Rock ‘n’ Roll music has a lot to say.

Tich Ennis

10th July, 2017

Funny Clothes

Why do people now wear funny clothes?

Apparently now anything goes.

I won’t say they get up my nose.

I always thought Bermuda shorts looked pretty stupid, but now look.

If they were photographed would you buy the book?

My sister gave me what I think is called a djellaba, but she said no.

She said a djellaba has a hood, so now I know.

I said that garment suits the odd very hot sunny day.

Will I ever wear it?

I may.

Tich Ennis

5th July, 2017

Open Letter to John Carey

John Carey emeritus professor of literature at Oxford university and beekeeper

Dear Professor,

I admire your book reviews in the Sunday Times. It may have been you, and I think it was, who said the great writers possess greatness of soul. Also that eighty per cent of what is accepted as art in any age is not art. I write. We can’t all be Pushkin or indeed Russians of any description. I write poetry and what have you. Another said I write rhymes.

Avoidance of cliches, such as ‘the struggle of the artist to get his voice heard’, is important. I have said, and I quote, I breathe new life into old cliches. Truisms are nonetheless true for being self evident.

I have written possibly a thousand poems and am seventy-six years old, but enough statistics. I call them poems, and why not? Also plays, essays, stories mostly suited to the short attention span generation. But does anyone pay attention? Some, yes. A poem of mine, Snowdrop, has been spoken of in the same breath as the work of Seamus Heaney, Nobel prize winner. Not by an emeritus professor but by a farmer’s wife.

Pardon me for writing to you, but a cat may look at a king.   You may quote Oscar, I don’t know you but your manner is familiar.

Now, serious matters. John Kennedy Toole’s masterpiece A Confederacy of Dunces was not published until after his death by suicide and only then after his mother gave it to a literature professor who recommended it for publication, when it won the Pulitzer prize. History has been said to repeat itself, the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.

Now, farcically, I provide you with links to recent writings of mine which please share if you feel so inclined.   Cliché. There’s no harm in asking.   There’s lots more where these came from.   I and my writing exist more than merely in cyberspace. But, yes, there.

Now, links:

https://tichennis.wordpress.com/2017/07/01/thats-all/

https://tichennis.wordpress.com/2017/07/03/my-mind-wanders/

https://tichennis.wordpress.com/2017/07/01/renegade/

Question: Does a sense of humour preclude one from serious consideration? What about Dostoevsky? Catch 22?

Regards,

Tich Ennis, birth name David, although that may be disputed.

3rd July, 2017

You Know

You know when something is good, you don’t have to be told.

What you are told may be fool’s gold.

And often is, showbiz.

What suits you suits you, that’s that.

You may like a dog or cat.

Or not, or a bird singing in a tree.

You are me.

Do you understand?

That’s grand.

You are unique, everyone’s a freak.

On some things almost everyone agrees.

We need peace in times like these.

Tich Ennis

30th June, 2017