Smoke

Why is everyone so screwed up, including me?

I watch your faces, you see.

Okay, not always, not quite everyone.

Why do most look like they never had any fun?

Had or have, have it your own way.

All potential customers of mine walk by every day.

I went so far as to write a book, some enjoyed it, some won’t even look.

My brother gives my book away, for God’s sake why?

Alright, its not that bad, some pay for it before they die.

Would you die laughing if I told you a joke?

I am a living cliché, a poet who is broke.

And I smoke.

Tich Ennis

12th October, 2017

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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

 

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

Perfection

Perfection knows no flaw, maybe I never saw.

If scenery is any indication we have some good stuff in this nation.

Perfection, to which I aspire, is it always higher?

Before I expire in the mire.

How good is my best, I suppose I know.

Its good, alright, I’ll let it go.

Only best is good enough for me.

Whether it be gold or a cup of tea.

Or a meal at a hotel.

I dislike saying oh well.

Hell and Heaven are opposite extremes.

Must we be in between?

You know what I mean.

The middle way is not good enough.

If you don’t like this poem, tough.

This is my kind of stuff.

You probably know words like mediocre, mediocrity.

How about a plastic covered sea?

I say what I see.

Perfection, no, I have not found.

Music?

I like the sound.

Tich Ennis

9th October, 2017

Way

Which way to the world and which way back?

Can I get in through a crack?

I am a poet no one knows.

I wear old clothes.

I have a big nose.

I like the word penumbra but I haven’t got one of those.

Must I toil and weep and moan?

Who pays for my telephone?

I wend along my meandery way.

Never forgetting bills to pay.

Who hears what I have to say?

One or two, maybe you.

Tich Ennis

9th October, 2017

Commemoration

Am I the greatest thing since scrambled eggs or sliced bread?

Will I be commemorated when I’m dead?

Get your act together, I live in stormy weather.

Should I be awarded the Nobel prize posthumously it will make no difference to me.

I never won a beauty competition, I went fishin’.

The prizes I won in life would fit in a matchbox.

In the Victorian era people gave their lovers locks.

Of their hair, I mean.

I used Brylcream.

I remember Elvis Presley and James Dean.

Tich Ennis

7th October, 2017

Sure

I was sure I had it, but I was wrong.

Something or other, I get along.

I thought it was nearly over, there’s nothing to it.

Wrong again, how do I do it?

Some things come easily to me, not everything, you see.

To digress, some people like some things and others others.

Some have more sisters than brothers.

About being sure, don’t be sure too soon.

Its almost certain there’s more to the tune.

Do not make a prior assumption.

That’s what we intellectuals call presumption.

Use your gumption.

Every detail must be right before you say goodnight.

Or you have not done your best.

Pass the test.

Then rest.

Tich Ennis

6th October, 2017