Category Archives: Universality

Monastic Life

I applied to become a monk but was turned down.

Not being debt free raised a frown.

Also I am too old, I can’t help that.

I thought I might be stress free, fancy that.

I got a nice email in return, spelling it all out.

Aspects of the monastic life would not suit me, no doubt.

Possibly my motivation was wrong.

As I said before, where do I belong?

Jim Reeves had a song, this world is not my home.

Maybe I should become a garden gnome.

Tich Ennis

19th February, 2018

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Normal People

Normal people like my stuff, so I heard, that’s enough.

Young and old alike, the rest get on your bike.

I sing what I like.

The best of the old is great, it was new once, age is your fate.

Why hesitate?

I won’t say more, I could say less.

My parting words, God bless.

It cheers me up to ring a friend, try it, this is not the end.

Make do and mend.

Eternal friend.

Tich Ennis

7th February, 2018

Messages

If you don’t send a message you can’t expect one in return.

I have a lot to learn.

I spoke with various friends today.

I have not gone away.

They heard what I had to say.

Life has its ups and downs for all concerned.

That is what I learned.

Message returned.

This poem appears to say almost nothing at all.

That’s all.

Tich Ennis

3rd February, 2018

Tich Ennis Club

Don’t blame me, its my kid brother’s idea. He was secretary of the Irish Chinese Cultural Society and has experience in these matters.

Membership: Free. But you must at least buy my CD or one of my books so far published, one out of print, but who knows, I may bring it back to life.

Rules: No kneecapping.

Aims: Yet to be determined.

Inaugural Meeting: When? I don’t know.

Possible Venues: Dublin Zoo, The Duke Pub in Duke Street, Dublin or somewhere else that doesn’t come to mind at the moment. Maybe the Bridge Hotel in Arklow.

Benefits of Membership: Unstated.

Note: This is NOT a political party, more a birthday party.

The Duke Pub sold my first book Pub Talk, I am undyingly grateful.

If James Joyce was alive today he would patronise the Duke, among other places. Why not?

My work has been compared, by me, with James Joyce, unfavourably.

I am not James’ biggest fan, Flann O’Brien is my man. Also many others from here and there, J.D. Salinger is good, why not P.G. Wodehouse, John Betjeman, the list goes on and on.

I like good music, Irish or otherwise, it must have feeling. I like a house where I can’t touch the ceiling.

When will we reach critical mass? When our membership exceeds a million, or a hundred, or ten.

Become an honorary member, join the club, come as you are, give the relic a rub.

There’s many a true word spoken in jest. No nice people, nice is fake good. Touch wood.

I once suggested a nice people’s club where you could go and meet only nice people. You wouldn’t be allowed in, said the barman.

So raise a glass, all things must pass, alas, alas, don’t cry in your beer, get in here.

This club founded on the first of January 2018, I having stopped the clock. At 2:59 and fifty nine seconds. The eleventh hour. I didn’t come down in the last shower.

During the coming year we wish to consolidate our gains without going to great pains.

My brother has over a hundred names and addresses of people who may or may not put their money where their mouth is, wherever that may be. Wait and see.

The rest is history. Start before you’re ready. But, where can I buy? Right here right now. Tich Ennis, Reality, 22 Seaview Avenue, Arklow, Co. Wicklow, Ireland.

Some years ago says I to my brother I will found the Tich Ennis appreciation society. It would have only one member says he. Now the club is born.

A club was good enough for cavemen, why not you?

Get writing. Heaven may be yours. Who knows? Not you if you don’t try. Would you risk it for a biscuit?

All welcome. Irrespective of race, colour or creed. Forget those things. Join the club.

TEC. We shall rule the world. If you’re not in you can’t win. Begin.

It starts here.

Now is the hour, me oul’ flower. Me oul’ segocia.

Pen and ink were made for this, it started with a kiss.

Eternal bliss.

If you don’t buy my book I’ll burn you at the steak. I like mine medium rare.

Write if you care.

Tich Ennis,

Reality,

22 Seaview Avenue,

Arklow,

Co. Wicklow,

Ireland.

Book (Reasonable Rhymes) 5 euros.

CD (Great Irish Songs) 10 euros.

Add 2 euros for post and packing.

If even one buys that’s something.

Spread the word.

Tich Ennis

3rd January, 2018

 

Fake News

Pope to canonise Paisley to make the unionists happy.

Bob Dylan said Abba are sappy.

Jerry Lee Lewis said I’m better than Elvis and I’m not dead.

Donald Trump says that’s not what I said.

Teresa May, the Virgin on the Rocks, says what she really thinks.

Arlene Foster stinks.

Tich Ennis

5th December, 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

Nude Girl

Some man said I should have a nude girl on the cover of my book. Sexist pig!   I think it was the same man who said I should have rape, violence and bloodthirsty murder in my book.   For that sort of thing read the papers. Sex sells, it has been said, ask a brothel keeper.

My mother said nudity symbolises truth, the truth stands naked. Did I ever swim naked? Yes. In the presence of women? No. Would that this were for Ireland, said a man dipping his toe in the water.

In London when young I visited a sex shop, done up like a Boots chemists. The female assistant asked me could she help me, I said I was only looking. She was disgusted. No money in that. I bought nothing. I treated it like a museum, they are free.

In Moore street in Dublin the vegetable sellers at stalls ask are you buying? Think twice before you do. Nice white mushrooms on the stall, but brown ones from under the counter if you buy.   They sell throw outs from the fruit and vegetable market, a little known fact. I’ll scrawb the fatures off you said one to another, so my father told me.   The song Biddy Mulligan celebrates them and their ilk.

This is a long way from nude girls, my mind wanders. The female form has been celebrated by artists throughout the ages, not to speak of the male. See the Sistine Chapel, was that Leonardo or Michelangelo? Don’t tell me, don’t show off. I don’t care if the Pope has dirty pictures in his chapel, we’re not having them, said a politician in our parliament discussing censorship of books with W.B. Yeats, poet and senator. We’ve got over that now, we have sex shops.   There was no sex in Ireland before television said another politician of ours. We are all the result of miracle births.

I speak of course of the old days. We have grown up and got sense since. Or what passes for it.   You learned about sex by osmosis in the old days, but you did learn. What is the difference between education and training? There’s sex education in schools, not sex training. Now you know.

A pretty girl on the cover sells a book, said Laurence O’Bryan, novelist and editor, to me, so I had one there. Hence the remark of that man, the nude girl fancier. So far, no nude girls in or on any book of mine. You have to draw the line somewhere, as Picasso might have said.

Imagination is a wonderful thing. Use your imagination. Did you have any bad thoughts, a priest might ask a confessor. In totalitarian states there’s such a thing as thought crime. I have thoughts but I don’t agree with them, said a man when asked in those circumstances.

A pretty girl is like a melody said someone, maybe Shakespeare. They’re all the same in the dark, said someone else. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is only skin deep. Beauty comes from within. Make up your own mind, if you have one.

I leave you to your fantasies.

How about a nudist colony in the Arctic Circle?

Tich Ennis

3rd December, 2017