Category Archives: Waiting

Tomorrow

Tomorrow is another day, it never comes, the present is here to stay.

If you like it, fine, if not, do your time.

I make mine.

Another glass of wine?

I dislike poems when you don’t know what they mean.

Do you believe a dream?

Oh well, I thought I’d write this anyway.

Tomorrow is another day.

That’s all I have to say.

I go away.

Tich Ennis

22nd June, 2017

When

When quantum computing comes all codes will be crackable, that includes Russian, American and Chinese and what have you.

And terrorists and drug dealers too.

It will be an open book if you want to take a look.

That will give the security services something to do, pornographers look out.

There’s a spy about.

The truth will find you out.

At leat I hope so, God willing.

Are you the full shilling?

I look forward to the truth.

I have since youth.

Okay, so your missile codes are known.

Will you be blown up alone?

Call a help line on the phone.

When secrecy and double dealing ends will we be friends?

When hatred ends.

I pen a line or two to you now and then.

I’m heartsick, sore and sorry until when?

Tich Ennis

22nd June, 2017

Spinner

I spin a web of golden threads from the story of my life, of this world, my world, your world, the Moon above, the universe.

I wish to free all that and those from war and want and misery, to free all of us above all else from a fatal curse.

A golden ladder to Heaven’s gate I wish to build, I wish to make, a bridge that all may cross who live under the Sun.

I dream this dream asleep, awake, I dream with every breath I take that all may be one.

Well, not quite, but more or less.

I’m only human, goodnight, God bless.

Tich Ennis

16th June, 2017

Intensity

The intensity of feeling when it is for something or someone good.

How can we understand things, are we lost in a wood?

How may I explain love and hurt and death and pain?

Must I explain all to you and me too?

I do my best, I am a smoker, drinker, thinker.

Can a man in a pub give the brass jug a rub?

Call forth the genie, make a wish, enlightenment is all.

I muse, I wonder, write words here, I love large and small.

Zeitgeist is a word that means the spirit of the age.

It is filled with hatred, greed, gluttony and rage.

Indifference is not quite complete.

When may true hearts meet?

I am quite old, must it go on like this?

Is there joy in life more than a lover’s kiss?

Oh bliss.

I’m not sure how to end this poem or my life.

Many girls could have been my wife.

What is or was or could be everlasting joy?

Playing with a hoop when I was a boy.

Tich Ennis

14th June, 2017

Unwritten Books

Bubbles in the Bath by Wynne D. Bottom

Stains on the Wall by Hoo Flung Dung. He’s a Chinaman.

Heard in the playground at age ten. Need I be more specific? There were others, some of which I heard and others they would not tell me because they said I was too innocent. I would like a complete list of them for posterity’s sake, and to make me laugh.

They say everyone has a book in them, with some maybe it should stay there. At least in written form. We write the story of our own lives, for better or worse.

The nub of the issue. I die, I face God.

God: What did you do with your life?

Me: Nothing much. This and that. Kissed girls, drank beer, gave good parties. Danced. Listened to music. Went out. Talked with people, known and unknown. Had friends. A lot of nothing.

God: So I see.

Me: If you know everything why ask me? Is this a case of out of their own mouths they are condemned?

God: Something like that. And to pass the time of day.

Me: Am I going to Heaven or Hell?

God: It’s a matter of choice. Which do you prefer?

Me: I don’t know. Irish people say they want to go to Hell, all their friends will be there. People say Heaven would be boring.

God: What do you think?

Me: Perfection can’t be boring.

God: Have you met perfection?

Me: I’m talking to you amn’t I?

God: In real life?

Me: What we laughingly call real life. If I haven’t then something very close to it. From time to time.

God: Often?

Me: No.

God: What do you want?

Me: The same only different. A little of what you fancy does you good. Me too.

God: What were you told at school?

Me: We are vehicles for the truth.

God: What did you think?

Me: I don’t know the truth. Maybe I will when I’m older.

God: What age were you?

Me.: Ten.

God: Years?

Me: Not days. If you weren’t God I’d say don’t be stupid.

God: That wouldn’t be nice.

Me: Nice is fake good.

God: Now you’re talking.

Me: I thought the truth was something said in words.

God: What do you say now?

Me: It is done, not spoken. Words may be lies.

God: They often are. Too often. Words can be true.

Me: Words mean nothing if not put into action.

God: Did you follow that in your life?

Me: I wrote and spoke words. Often for fun. Shaw said if you want to write a comedy tell the truth. Nothing is funnier than the truth.

God: Do you love the truth?

Me: It’s the only thing.

God: If I send you to Hell will you convert others to your way of thinking?

Me: That’s the divil of a job.

God: I asked him but he was busy.

Me: I don’t know what to say.

God: I will put words in your mouth.

Me: Is this like being a Hindu, getting another go?

God: Keep going until you get it right.

Me: Is Hell eternal?

God: It could be. Maybe yes, maybe no. Not unless you want it to be.

Me: Why me?

God: That’s what they all say.

Me: I’ll have a go. I might as well be doing something as nothing.

God: That’s the spirit.

Me: Will I forget this?

God: Yes. You always do.

Me: Sorry to keep you waiting.

God: The man who made time made plenty of it. On the count of three, go. One, two, three.

Me: I’m gone.

After that brief digression back to unwritten books. Who will write a book to change the world? A friend asked that and said he knows it could not happen. Who believes in miracles? Some. Sorry to keep you waiting.

Tich Ennis

13th June, 2017

Fix The World

Right said Fred.

I’ll do it when I’m dead.

Its too late then said the undertaker.

Who will pay my cabinet maker?

I’ll try to fit you in on Monday after Coronation Street said Fred, speaking again.

Alright said the undertaker, that’s alright then.

Are you a man of your word?

You wouldn’t believe the rubbish I have heard.

I don’t believe it myself said Fred to me.

Any chance of a cup of tea?

I’ll put the kettle on said she.

Wait and see.

You took the words out of my mouth said he.

I will be back. Probably.

No mention of infinity.

That means so much to me.

After all I’m no Einstein or only relatively.

You workmen are all the same!

Promises are your game.

Still, I’m glad you came.

I’ll expect you when I see you.

Until then, do you take sugar? One or two?

Oh, thank you.

Tich Ennis

13th June, 2017

Fear

I am afraid of learning new things.

Okay, I’m over forty, older than some kings.

A friend said when you get to forty you don’t want to learn anything new.

Has that happened to you?

Einstein made his great discovery before the age of twenty-five.

For the rest of his life he did more or less nothing except say he is alive.

And so also with some other famous men.

When my uncle and aunt were middle aged he said they are two setting suns.

Children are more or less learning machines then they forget everything they ever knew.

I am an old child not knowing what to do.

That friend of mine is eighty-two.

What’s more he still cuts his grass.

I do not, alas.

If you don’t move with the times you’re dead.

I said.

A nephew of mine said when you stop learning its over.

His dog is not called Rover.

Einstein, relatively speaking, was right.

Though not absolutely, I could go on all night.

Scientists keep disproving the last one’s work.

What about me? I shirk.

Its too much like work.

Why doesn’t a man on a white horse come riding by and solve my problems in the wink of an eye?

I suppose I’ll have to do it before I die.

I should mention Goya said he was still learning at the age of ninety-five.

Though not that age I am still alive.

All my faculties are alive and kicking.

When will I stop tricking?

I was not put on Earth to disappoint.

Come priest, anoint.

When I die will I make a wonderful corpse?

People may say, he died waiting for a horse.

Come, pale rider, is the pale rider me?

As Shakespeare said, to be or not to be.

Instead of doing things I write poetry.

That’s me.

I have an awful lot to say.

Some other time, I’ll be on my way.

My mother said if you won’t go to school you’ll have to get a job.

Big nob?

She also asked do I take anything seriously.

Not me.

A cup of tea.

Seriousness is morbidity, morbidity is death.

I’m not there yet.

I lament Tibet.

How about girls with slashes in their jeans at the knees?

Designer poverty, puhleese.

In times like these.

I am God’s misbegotten son.

Not the only one.

Have fun.

Should I say more about why I am so slow?

A snail gets there, you know.

Shell rhymes with Hell.

Self inflicted wounds are hardest to cure.

Endure.

Roses grow in manure.

Do I mean a word I say?

Oh everything.

Meaning is king.

I mean to say I go.

Words no one wants to hear, I told you so.

Tich Ennis

10th June, 2017