Category Archives: Personal

Cosmic

Far be it from me to mention Mars.

Even further away are stars.

They don’t all have names or if they have them I don’t know.

I have not been introduced here below.

I know one is called North, possibly South, the morning star is somewhere about.

Its strange to think they are always there but can’t be seen in daylight, so there.

We are neighbours in the milky way, I know that for a fact, our galaxy, okay?

I could go on for a light year and a day.

I appear not to have mentioned the Sun.

I have not time to name every one.

I notice I mentioned I a lot.

Am I big in the Cosmos?

Not a jot.

That’s your lot.

Tich Ennis

19th June, 2017

 

Theresa May

Theresa May is up a gumtree, she made a mess.

As she is first to confess.

Do you like her dress?

She is a power walker, power strutter, is she a nutter?

She appears to lack empathy, if you know that word.

Are grammar schools absurd?

So I’ve heard.

So said Jones minor of the lower third.

Well I suppose she learned a lesson.

We’ve heard her confession.

Margaret Thatcher did not have advisors, she made up her own mind.

Theresa is not that kind.

Tich Ennis

17th June, 2017

Crime Scene Investigator

I saw a guy with that on his tee shirt, I thought, what crime?

He looked more like a hippy, maybe he served time.

Perjury is committed thousands of times every day on both sides in court.

On my oath I heard that, the truth to abort.

I have some legal experience, but not vast.

I sailed before the mast, in my past.

I’ve seen the law from both sides, I sailed among the flowing tides.

Crimes against humanity are committed by just who?

Me and you.

Has Sherlock Holmes a clue?

Tich Ennis

15th 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

14th June, 2017

Words Are Not Enough

How can I say it in words that contradict themselves?

There are books on the shelves.

Might they as well not have been written?

I am smitten.

Say, Why Our Children Can’t Read, to name but one.

Who is swayed by that under the Sun?

Even one?

If words could do it we are doing well.

In truth, though I hate to say it, we are in Hell.

Talk the talk or walk the walk or both?

We have truth by the throat.

Liars, liars everywhere.

Poisoning the air.

Lies kill, if we let them do it they will.

In the name of God do you want to live?

To love means to give.

Give yourself, give what you do your all.

When you hear music go with it, your ears are not a wall.

Must we sink in a sea of corruption, death and lies?

You know you don’t believe them, be wise.

All I ask, all you have to do, in everything be true.

Why oh why do you think that’s a tall order?

Who wants a wall on the Mexican border?

All it means is doing what you do.

Really doing it, for your sake and God’s be true.

Let yourself go, sink into a book.

Or film or whatever, if its good its worth a second look.

You know what’s good, its what suits you, and often many others too.

Don’t let others make up your mind, you own your brain, be kind.

Accept guidance from the good, they’re on your side the good ones, be as you should.

When you know if you know tell others, share.

If you care.

It’s a hard oul’ station as people in Ireland say and getting harder all the time.

We suffer from crime.

You can do this, you can’t, you can’t say that, who made the rules?

Crooks and fools.

Don’t be argumentative, don’t be like them, just do it.

Be yourself, there’s nothing to it.

Why do I have to tell you what a baby knows?

The king has no clothes.

The truth stands naked with nothing to hide.

When people cover up you know they lied.

Say what you mean, mean what you say.

You are as good as your word.

I go away.

The truth is here to stay.

It never goes away.

Truth is your friend.

I end.

Tich Ennis

14th 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

13th June, 2017

Fear

I am afraid of learning new things.

Okay, I’m over forty, older than some kings.

A friend said when you get to forty you don’t want to learn anything new.

Has that happened to you?

Einstein made his great discovery before the age of twenty-five.

For the rest of his life he did more or less nothing except say he is alive.

And so also with some other famous men.

When my uncle and aunt were middle aged he said they are two setting suns.

Children are more or less learning machines then they forget everything they ever knew.

I am an old child not knowing what to do.

That friend of mine is eighty-two.

What’s more he still cuts his grass.

I do not, alas.

If you don’t move with the times you’re dead.

I said.

A nephew of mine said when you stop learning its over.

His dog is not called Rover.

Einstein, relatively speaking, was right.

Though not absolutely, I could go on all night.

Scientists keep disproving the last one’s work.

What about me? I shirk.

Its too much like work.

Why doesn’t a man on a white horse come riding by and solve my problems in the wink of an eye?

I suppose I’ll have to do it before I die.

I should mention Goya said he was still learning at the age of ninety-five.

Though not that age I am still alive.

All my faculties are alive and kicking.

When will I stop tricking?

I was not put on Earth to disappoint.

Come priest, anoint.

When I die will I make a wonderful corpse?

People may say, he died waiting for a horse.

Come, pale rider, is the pale rider me?

As Shakespeare said, to be or not to be.

Instead of doing things I write poetry.

That’s me.

I have an awful lot to say.

Some other time, I’ll be on my way.

My mother said if you won’t go to school you’ll have to get a job.

Big nob?

She also asked do I take anything seriously.

Not me.

A cup of tea.

Seriousness is morbidity, morbidity is death.

I’m not there yet.

I lament Tibet.

How about girls with slashes in their jeans at the knees?

Designer poverty, puhleese.

In times like these.

I am God’s misbegotten son.

Not the only one.

Have fun.

Should I say more about why I am so slow?

A snail gets there, you know.

Shell rhymes with Hell.

Self inflicted wounds are hardest to cure.

Endure.

Roses grow in manure.

Do I mean a word I say?

Oh everything.

Meaning is king.

I mean to say I go.

Words no one wants to hear, I told you so.

Tich Ennis

10th June, 2017