Category Archives: Reasonable Rhymes

Rich And Famous

If I became rich and famous might I become obnoxious, I asked a friend, he said do you mean more obnoxious than you are?

I don’t own a car.

God may be sparing me for something, but what the Hell?

Oh well.

Fame has not gone to my head, I have obscurity instead.

Its not hard to be humble when no one knows you’re there.

Ask me, see if I care.

Could I possibly stand up to fame?

You don’t know my name.

I am honest, I am poor.

May the truth endure.

Tich Ennis

7th February, 2018

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Goodbye Fantasy

I haven’t written for a while, now I do, maybe raise a smile.

I must justify my existence for what it worth, here on Earth.

Apparently all is fantasy, illusion, may I dispel confusion.

It sure is realistic as Hell, oh well.

Reality is the essence of the real, the real thing is how you feel.

My life progresses on from day to day, I have not gone away.

I hope to cross my bridges as they come and go, today a stranger said hello.

He asked had I sold any books, I said no one has any money.

He thought that was funny.

This poem arrives at no conclusion.

Free us from delusion.

Tich Ennis

1st February, 2018

To Belle Gibson, Australia, fantasy cancer con artist

Theory

In theory I am a genius but in practice no.

I have a long way to go.

I am an apprentice millionaire, just starting out.

When I find out how I’ll give you a shout.

I am the world’s greatest lover, I have some practice in that sphere.

I just say to a girl, come here.

Theory means nothing if not put into practice, learn that first.

Then do your thing, shut up, or else you’re cursed.

Dream while you’re asleep, not all day.

That’s more or less all I have to say.

Mere words are a waste of time.

Is this a poem or a rhyme?

Don’t live only in theory, don’t you see.

Leave that to me.

Tich Ennis

21st January, 2018

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

Fantasy And Reality

I am considering entering the digital world, publishing digitally, the real world having failed me miserably. I view the digital world with some revulsion for not being the real thing. I am real and live in reality, literally and metaphorically.   Those who live in the digital world wouldn’t know reality if it bit them in the you know where.   Fantasy addicts everyone. Clinics for their treatment have been set up in South Korea, or try Lourdes.

So why enter this fantastical phantasmagoria, the enemy of flesh and blood, mania itself, home of addicts, fantasists and deluded self- made fools, to coin a phrase?   To rescue them from their delusion and myself from misery.   Bring sanity to the mad house.   Set my people free.

In the real world books are made of paper, see them, feel them, smell them, drop them on your toe and know they’re there. Not so in the virtual world.   The Library of Congress in your hand but nothing in reality.   Suppose a power failure, what then? Does madness ensue? Lost without your phone.   Curl up with a book, a real book. Kiss a real girl.

So I too enter the mad house for I hope a short stay.   To visit those who fly from reality, fear it, hate it, ignore it and treat it as not existing. I know the feeling, c’est la grande illusion.   Brush up your French.

My purpose is nothing less than to bring reality to life.   The virtual world is a stepping stone to the real thing, a stone’s throw away as you might say, not to put words in your mouth.   Step one: the virtual world. Step two: the real world. When I find the key to the virtual world. So I must approach the drug peddlers.

Everyone and his aunt describes themself as a writer or author today because they live in the virtual world publishing their work there, but who buys? Almost no one. Who gets rich? The digital media barons, the drug peddlers.   You might as well scrawl on a wall.

So I will enter the world of the deluded, the fantasists, because I have nowhere else to go. The real world does not want me or my wares. It having been taken over by fantasy.   I enter your world in a reverse take over bid.   When? When I get around to it. I act the madman with an aching heart so as to conform but it is only an act. I hate myself for doing it.   But do it I will.

I am no conceptual artist. I believe in the realisation of concepts and many other things which appear to have been forgotten in this age of fantasy. Fantasy is fake reality.   Ideally I exist in both worlds, I and my work. Until the real thing comes along.

So I shall be coming soon to a device near you.  Don’t say you weren’t warned.

Tich Ennis

19th January, 2018

Life

If you’re before your time you’re too early and too late too late.

I don’t believe in fate.

Play the hand life dealt you, no cheating, play it well.

Take your time, consider things, you are one step from Hell.

Things are never quite as bad as they seem, wake up from a bad dream.

Possibly you win, possibly you lose, does it really matter, your choice is yours to choose.

Practice makes perfect when you care.

Fame is neither here nor there.

Tich Ennis

10th January, 2018