Tag Archives: History

Blood

My life’s blood spills out upon a page.

Will I die in peace or rage?

Get over it, it could be worse, cheer up, Irish people say.

Yeah, right, I say in my last words, who will write them down except this clown?

Oh, sorry, I wrote a line that does not rhyme.

Someday I may.

Blood, they say, is thicker than water, I know which I like to drink.

Hello there, my pen has not run out of ink.

Tich Ennis

25th June, 2017

Explosion

God exploded and broke apart, we broke his heart.

God is past, present and future all in one and, oh yes, the Sun.

We carry a little piece of him in our heart and his mortal enemy, the Devil is also there.

Be careful which you choose, above all, care.

Someday in the future God will join together again when there is peace among men.

I am a heretic, burned at the stake, my question is, how long will it take?

When end heartbreak?

What difference can a poet make?

Walter Scott wrote The Lady of the Lake.

Be not fake.

This is my Sunday poem.

By their works ye know ‘em.

Tich Ennis

25th June, 2017

You

You never tell me whether you like my stuff, okay, what am I looking for, praise?

The end of days.

Lost in a maze.

See through the haze.

Is that the white flag of peace I see through the smoke or a bloodstained bandage, give my heart ease.

The turmoil and the tumult batter on.

When peace comes war is gone.

So I die and no one knows.

Do you prefer poetry or prose?

God knows.

Tich Ennis

23rd June, 2017

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

The Queen

Padraic Colum wrote a poem The Old Woman Of The Roads, “Oh to have a little house, to own the hearth and stool and all” and so on, its lovely. Simple. The best he ever wrote.

It was read out to us in school and I a boy of nine or ten, the teacher was very pleased with himself. I put up my hand.   “Brother, can I say something? When I walk to school along Eden road just past the railway bridge is a small house with a plaque on it saying Padraic Colum lived here”. The teacher looked at me with tolerant amusement.

“Why did you tell us that?” he asked. “I thought you might be interested because he wrote that poem. He lived near this school.”

I did not say so Padraic Colum existed and maybe one or some of the other boys might be interested. It appeared to be a rule that teachers were never spoken to on a basis of equality. The temerity of it!

The teacher apparently thought I was some sort of blithering idiot. Not to be spoken to as if we shared a common interest in the poem and its maker. That would never do.

He may have said “Is that all you have to say to us?” Condescension is perhaps not the best word to describe his attitude.

Now, royalty. Years later I spoke with a couple in a hotel telling them I write poetry, not the sort of stuff you see in books now that no one reads. “Big words!” said the woman.

I said I like poems we heard at school like that one by Padraic Colum, Oh To Have A Little House. I said the first two lines and the woman recited it complete.

The barman was standing by. I said that’s about an old woman who has no house and wishes she had one. It’s the queen’s favourite poem, she often recites it.

“Nice one David” said the barman.

Tich Ennis

20th June, 2017

Cosmic

Far be it from me to mention Mars.

Even further away are stars.

They don’t all have names or if they have them I don’t know.

I have not been introduced here below.

I know one is called North, possibly South, the morning star is somewhere about.

Its strange to think they are always there but can’t be seen in daylight, so there.

We are neighbours in the milky way, I know that for a fact, our galaxy, okay?

I could go on for a light year and a day.

I appear not to have mentioned the Sun.

I have not time to name every one.

I notice I mentioned I a lot.

Am I big in the Cosmos?

Not a jot.

That’s your lot.

Tich Ennis

19th June, 2017

 

Axe

Everyone has an axe to grind.

When I say everyone I mean nearly everyone, do you mind?

Take the media, for example.

Look at a cross sample.

Video, print, whatever.

Are they objective never?

Hardly ever.

Similarly in politics and people supporting football teams.

Fairness? Honesty? In your dreams.

My country right or wrong is an old song.

As some black guy said, why can’t we get along?

His name was Rodney King if memory serves me right.

The white police were spoiling for a fight.

Goodnight.

Who knows wrong from right?

We have wars, dislike and hate because we choose.

That is the news.

No wonder black men sang the blues.

You would in their shoes.

In wars we lose.

How many dead and wounded on both sides?

As fish in the sea in waves and tides.

Pick up the pieces after, son or daughter, from the slaughter.

A child knows peace is best.

Harmony, music, a friend and the rest.

Out of the mouths of babes came forth the truth.

Must young men die in youth?

I say no.

And so I go.

Tich Ennis

18th June, 2017