Category Archives: Topical

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

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Latest Fashion

God is out of fashion because God is truth.

Fashion is a fickle jade, it corrupts our youth.

Who wants the latest thing, who rejects the old?

Who says only new is good, who says a child is bold?

Who says it makes no difference, who says it doesn’t matter?

Who says its no one’s fault the obese are getting fatter?

The same ones who hate free speech, they hate freedom too.

Its never anybody’s fault, the blame is all on you.

Logic, reason, truth itself, are they dead and gone?

They are in the mouth of some and yet the truth lives on.

Tich Ennis

9th December, 2017

Memo

I haven’t been happy with your work lately. I prefer to smile.

Its been a while.

Perfection is hard to attain.

I know that, do you?

Me too.

It is worth the pain.

There is much to gain.

You may not seek my approval.

Are you ready for removal?

God knows I’m a patient man.

At least I think I am.

To end my report, must do better.

Don’t cry when you read this letter.

I’ll see you in my office after work.

May I quote Edmund Burke?

I may, and many others too.

Do Shakespeare’s words mean anything to you?

To be or not to be and so on.

Mull over my words, I won’t go on and on.

See you later on.

Tich Ennis

7th December, 2017

Must I?

Must I write poems all the time, must I say everything in rhyme?

My best friend said yes, keep writing, at least when you’re writing you’re not fighting.

Long ago, so we were told, Ireland was nothing but saints and scholars.

Now we sell ourselves for dollars.

Priests don’t wear collars.

Maybe this will never see the light of day, so what, its what I have to say.

I have not gone away.

Neither I nor the IRA.

I do as needs must.

Before I turn into dust.

Gold does not rust.

Tich Ennis

23rd November, 2017

Converging Concepts

Maths, art, science, literature, philosophy, religion are converging to a single point.

A Russian scientist said that, whom the saints anoint.

Speaking for myself, I concur.

I who infrequently err.

Love is where you find it wherever that may be.

An old pop song or a cup of tea.

Did Adam and Eve do wrong or did they make a mistake?

The Reader’s Digest said that in my years of heartache.

I made mistakes in my time.

Who is without crime?

Everything should rhyme.

I do be and I does be talking rot.

That’s not all I’ve got.

Whoever is responsible, thanks a lot.

I think this poem is rather good but who am I to say?

Have it your way.

Perhaps the last two lines should be in parentheses or, as you might say, bracket.

If you have a bad child do you smack it?

Tich Ennis

4th December, 2017

Explaining Stupidity

I will now explain stupidity to those who have no brain.

There are none of those, the emperor wore no clothes.

A child could see and see it all.

Yet others chose blindness turning their faces to the wall.

Use your brain you dope you lazy thing.

See through the emperor or king.

Stupidity is not using your brain, you have it, use it.

It is really there, you didn’t lose it.

Is it true you’d rather die than think?

If so that’s why you’re stupid, my pen runs out of ink.

Tich Ennis

29th November, 2017

Am I?

Am I a conventional poet am I damn.

I don’t know what I am.

Bread and jam.

I ate as a child, did I go wild?

What am I now anyhow?

The sum of all my experiences, pig and sow.

Behind the plough.

I’m experimental now.

Yes I believe oh God I do.

In you.

In that sense I might as well go to Hell.

Oh well.

To Hell and back for the crack.

I will be back.

When I know I’ll tell you so.

I am old and I am new.

You too.

Tich Ennis

29th November, 2017