Category Archives: Prayer

Beard

I don’t need to shave because I grew a beard.

The truth is most feared.

I do need to wash my face to be in a state of grace.

Sometimes I wash my hands.

I listen to rock’n’roll bands.

Or did in times gone past, the future is catching up with me fast.

Its pointless complaining that I have to cut my nails, my patience fails.

I do get out of bed, well said.

I am alive until I’m dead.

I enjoy life more or less.

God bless.

Tich Ennis

16th October, 2017

Advertisements

Way

Which way to the world and which way back?

Can I get in through a crack?

I am a poet no one knows.

I wear old clothes.

I have a big nose.

I like the word penumbra but I haven’t got one of those.

Must I toil and weep and moan?

Who pays for my telephone?

I wend along my meandery way.

Never forgetting bills to pay.

Who hears what I have to say?

One or two, maybe you.

Tich Ennis

9th October, 2017

Solution

Concepts are converging, so a Russian scientist said.

Things are mighty complex, will I know before I’m dead?

The Devil has been described as the master of confusion.

String theory is a ball of twine, just another illusion.

The theory of everything, when will it emerge?

Oh my God simplicity, towards thee I ever urge.

When theory and practice are one in one place then and only then are we in a state of grace.

Human race wash your face.

Tich Ennis

3rd October, 2017

Strange Prayer

I’d have to be better than God to give up smoking.

Only joking.

I am pretty old but I haven’t given up yet.

Living that is, and the old wine cup, you bet.

Alright, beer, or as I call it, stout.

Am I found out?

Lord make me good but not yet was Saint Augustine’s prayer.

Before he became a saint, I am not there.

To be smoke free would improve my financial position.

Otherwise I am in good condition.

Heal thyself, physician.

To give up would make one or two people glad.

And I would be less mad.

Not bad.

If God is doing the right thing then its up to me.

The rest is history.

Or should I say the past.

I was a trawler fisherman, my years before the mast.

I end in inconsequentiality.

Wait and see.

Tich Ennis

12th September, 2017

All Roads

All roads lead everywhere unless it’s a cul-de-sac.

If it’s a cul-de-sac turn back.

On a straight road you can’t go round the bend.

A long road seems to have no end.

May the road rise up to meet you and the wind be at your back.

A long straight road is called a tramp’s heartbreak, that’s a fact.

Boreen means small road, or maybe a lane.

Here I mean, not in Spain.

Dark alleys have a bad reputation.

In more or less every nation.

Don’t believe you can’t get there from here.

At the end of the road enjoy a beer.

Tich Ennis

9th September, 2017

Becalmed

My interactions with the world are largely to no avail.

Am I a ship without a sail?

Come fair wind, headwind, blow me home.

All roads lead to Rome.

Perhaps some current may catch me and from the doldrums set me free.

I sit and wait and hope twiddling my fingers like a dope.

Throw me a rope.

Yours faithfully, a misanthrope.

Tich Ennis

9th September, 2017

Impossible Odds

Conquering false gods.

Love your neighbour as yourself, your neighbour is all mankind.

Someone said that, do you mind?

The gods of hate and greed we do not need.

Putting yourself first is the worst.

We are cursed.

Where do I begin?

I who sin.

I do not wish to live and die a lie.

Thank God for faithful friends and true.

I don’t know what to do.

Do you?

Be true.

The answer comes from me to you.

Via who?

Tich Ennis

1st September, 2017