Category Archives: Soul

Two In One

Do I have to say this, don’t you know?

The spiritual is expressed through the physical, there you go.

Its not one or the other or the other not at all.

Its both together hand in hand or else look how we fall.

Why do I have to say this, listen to a singer sing.

He uses heart and lungs and soul and voice, he gives everything.

Or she, not to be gender specific.

When done right it is terrific.

Body and Soul is an old jazz standard, it says what I say here.

Someone has to brew your beer.

I’m a poor poet saying what needs to be said.

Before I’m dead.

Tich Ennis

20th February, 2018

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Rubbish Man

What do I want, I want the truth to be.

To Hell with me.

I write and sing for what its worth.

I want peace and happiness on Earth.

Joy, let joy be unconfined.

I am imperfect, do you mind?

So where is the perfect man, nowhere I suppose.

In the meantime may I wear his clothes?

I speak truth, I hope to be it too.

I waited everlastingly for you.

Some clown here says he wants the truth to be.

Who? Me.

I well know I may be misunderstood.

The rubbish man says swap bad and mad for good.

I want to make it perfectly clear.

That’s why I’m here.

My aim is for perfection, may I not aim in vain.

The world is in pain.

May my words not go down the drain.

The rubbish man would like a holiday in Spain.

Tich Ennis

10th January, 2018

Ballbreaker

God keeps kicking me in the balls or is it the other fellow?

Have I a streak down my back of vivid yellow?

I never really expect anything much, I sure don’t get it.

I lay in bed as a child and wet it.

Now in later life I have no wife.

If I had how would she put up with me?

Patron saint of lost causes, rescue me.

Some few like what I do.

Do you?

A lonely soul struggling to be true.

I apologise for using a coarse word.

Its not the worst I ever heard.

That word is synonymous with bravery.

I’ll have a cup of tea.

Should I end here or say so many promises are broken?

I speak a truth unspoken.

Where is Hoboken?

I do my best all the time.

Am I guilty of a crime?

Kafka instructed that all his work be burned.

I am the worm who turned.

No, I don’t want my stuff to go up in smoke.

I don’t want my life to be a dirty joke.

Self-pity is despicable, I know that too.

I’ll get over it, will you?

Believe me I pity all of you.

I have more or less run out of tears in my advanced years.

Against all odds I have one more thing to say, to turn night into day.

This dope has hope.

Tich Ennis

10th December, 2017

Prestige Project

This is my prestige project, I am what you see.

Are you another me?

To see means understand, I’ll let that pass.

I am trees, green grass.

It fails to pass my understanding why prestige projects exist.

I kissed a girl who never kissed.

You are on my list.

A monument to your own glory, hang the expense.

Does it make sense?

Your achievements speak for themselves, such as they are.

Who made a shooting star?

You are what you are.

I am ordinary, you are extraordinary.

Far be it from me to gild the lily.

This poem might become silly.

I am the Sun, the stars, the Earth, the flowers.

Holy hours.

I warned you this might happen, now you see.

Elvis sang now and then there’s a fool such as me.

And Hound Dog, Don’t Be Cruel, All Shook Up.

I love a simple flower, e.g. buttercup.

Now like a flower I shut up.

Tich Ennis

6th December, 2017

In The Event Of My Death

Do not despair.

I’m still there.

What to do?

Who will make the Irish stew?

Maybe you.

I could say sell all my shares and buy government bonds.

But I have no shares, only fish in ponds.

My massive gold hoardings and my gold mines sell them off if I have any at the time.

Highly unlikely, pay for my past crimes.

My debts I leave to the poor said Voltaire.

They’re used to them, I’ve been there.

So now my cost of living is zero.

I’d rather be a live coward than a dead hero.

Tich Ennis

30th November, 2017

Clown

I wonder should I say hello or should I say goodbye?

I wonder should I laugh or should I cry?

I wonder should I live or should I die?

As long as I keep wondering at least I am not dead.

When young my mother called me to get out of bed.

Sleepwalk or talk?

Do I talk in my sleep? How would I know?

I could ask a girl I used to know.

Some guy said I made sense when I was drunk, I should write it down.

Would I listen to a clown?

Tich Ennis

27th November, 2017

Irish Soul Reborn

Irish soul in the freezer in the fire.

Can my soul go higher?

Before I expire?

Or tire.

I wish to bring the truth to you, what’s a man to do?

Between me and you.

Here is Hell and here is Heaven.

I know them both since I was seven.

How may I turn them around to show the music, lovely sound?

I ask oh my task neverending eternity.

Who am I only me.

I sailed the sea.

Free me.

And thee.

Tich Ennis

15th November, 2017