Category Archives: The End

Santa Claus

Not believing in Santa Claus doesn’t mean there isn’t one, you are responsible for your own belief.

Don’t give me grief.

At one time people believed the Earth is flat.

Fancy that.

So therefore you could be wrong.

Can you sing a song?

You may think so but what do others say?

Go away?

Are you looking forward to a Christmas present, be youPagan, Christian or Jew?

Or Muslim, to name but a few.

Possibly one will come.

Son of a gun.

The circulation of the blood and many other things were not believed.

Are you easily deceived?

Who gets your vote, who has you by the throat?

Speak up, spit it out.

Have you found out?

What makes you so sure?

Do roses grow well in manure?

Wherein lies your expertise?

Birds and bees?

Almost no one knows anything, that’s a fact.

Some actors don’t know how to act.

Consult yourself, what do you know?

One thing is sure, a snail moves slow.

Therefore, hang up your sock on Christmas Eve.

Santa Claus will tell you what to believe.

Or maybe he did long ago.

What do I know?

The Earth is round.

Sound.

I may speak the truth incidentally.

Do you know many like me?

Tich Ennis

11th October, 2017

 

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Lost

I left my belongings at the gate and hurried inward to my fate.

I rang my sister about my brother and did one or two or more things other.

Then I said, where are my things, who knows what misfortune brings.

I looked high and low and on the floor, then gave up, no more, no more.

I settled for a substitute, bitter fruit.

Later I went out again and discovered my belongings then.

Cigarettes, a lighter and a pen.

A lapse of memory occurred.

This is not my final word.

I found what’s lost, oh welcome home!

Turn of the tide, bedecked with foam.

Tich Ennis

10th October, 2017

Euthanasia

If you booked euthanasia would you cancel because you’re afraid of flying more than dying?

That could be so, I don’t know.

What is life but a mystery between two mysteries, the mystery of our coming and the mystery of our going.

In Ireland right now it is not snowing.

What do you expect in September?

A day to remember.

It has all been most interesting an old lady said on her deathbed.

Maybe she was being sarcastic someone said.

Tich Ennis

18th September, 2017

The Absolute Truth

Are you waiting for the absolute truth from me?

You may be waiting a long time, its all relative you see.

I do not have your history nor you mine.

Wait, maybe things will turn out fine.

The truth is true in principle, not fact.

Be careful how you act.

You have a different history than me.

You are you and I am me.

Will your future be better than your past?

The burning question, I end for now at last.

Look inside, you have nowhere to hide.

Why should you anyway?

Be born today.

This means what it means to you.

You know what to do.

Me too.

Tich Ennis

16th September, 2017

Artist

I am an artist, I just want to make.

If I said I was in PR I’d be a fake.

Who wants to manufacture distribute and sell?

To me that’s Hell.

What price the Liberty Bell?

So almost no one knows of me or my output, my work, my art.

My breaking heart.

I don’t want to cry on your shoulder, I might shrink your collar.

Can you spare a dollar?

Nothing is free, not even me.

I am unwritten history.

I will have to learn to swim sometime.

Doing nothing is a crime.

I speak metaphorically of course, I’m a poet, not a horse.

Some idiot asked do I not know how to swim, that’s Michael O’Brien, that’s him.

Can I get anything into anyone’s thick head?

I’ll keep trying until I’m dead.

By swim I meant come down to Earth, get in the swim of things.

Knock on doors, try bell rings.

Must I speak simply as if everyone is a dope?

Including myself and the Pope.

Some hope.

Tich Ennis

11th September, 2017

Game

Playing hide and seek with God, will I ever find him?

My turn, your turn, my turn again, he’s crying, don’t you mind him.

Blind man’s buff, that other game, find although you’re blind.

Guess who, its you, the other guy, oh no, oh me, oh my.

Tip and tig, an Irish jig, who will be caught out?

Oh God you’re there oh do I care, turn and turn about.

Will you catch me, will I catch you, I’ve had the measles, caught the ‘flu, spent days and nights in bed.

When I play a game I know I am alive not dead.

If you don’t catch me I’ll catch you instead.

Tich Ennis

10th 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