Tag Archives: Truth


Make I never speak an untrue word on paper or by voice.

That is my choice.

A woman who read my first book said I mean what I say, why is that unusual today?

Liars, liars everywhere, on T.V. and on the air.

Fake news, jokes that aren’t jokes, pigs in pokes.

Such drivel, am I supposed to believe this, I don’t.

Don’t expect me to talk like you, I won’t.

How long must we wait for the true?

I’ve had it up to here with you.

You leave me a lot to do.

Me and Charles Bukowski too.

Tich Ennis

11th July, 2018



A poem to last for all time, is it a poem or a rhyme?

A rhyme is down to earth and dum-de-dum, a poem transcends and then some.

When the two of them combine I may turn water into wine.

Perhaps I’ll walk on water first then drink the wine to slake my thirst.

The blind may see, the deaf may hear, the dumb shall speak sometime, some year.

In the meantime here I am, a poet, one who gives a damn.

Tich Ennis

10th July, 2018

Legal Consultation

Client: I want to sue a man for debt.

Solicitor: Does he owe you money?

Client: Yes.

Solicitor: Have you got the details?

Client, producing paper: Here.

Solicitor: I will write him a letter.

Client: Why?

Solicitor: So I can charge for it.

Client: What will it say?

Solicitor: Unless I receive the full amount from you within seven days I will have no option but to take legal action against you when you will become liable for the full amount plus costs.

Client: That’s not true.

Solicitor: What do you mean?

Client: You have another option. You could pay the debt yourself.

Solicitor: That would be unethical.

Client: If it goes to court what date will it be on? Will you be free?

Solicitor: I’m not free, I’m expensive.

Client: The law is open to everyone like the Ritz hotel.

Solicitor: We all have to live. Some of us very well.

Client: When will I hear from you?

Solicitor: In due course. We will allow the matter to resolve itself.

Client: Matters don’t resolve themselves, you have to resolve them.

Solicitor: My letter appeals to the good side of his nature if he has one.

Client: He is a white collar criminal.

Solicitor: Universal education leads to more white collar crime.

Client: That keeps you in business.

Solicitor: They usually get off.

Client: Why?

Solicitor: They can afford good lawyers.

Client: If there was no crime there would be no need for lawyers.

Solicitor: We have a vested interest in criminality.

Client: You can say that again. What happens if the money comes in?

Solicitor: It goes into my client account.

Client: Won’t that tempt you?

Solicitor: I can resist anything except temptation.

Client: In a perfect world there would be no lawyers.

Solicitor: Who wants perfection?

Client: Certainly not you. Will I let myself out?

Solicitor: Use the door marked exit. The law is not about justice its about the law.   The professions have mystique, that’s what you’re paying for.

Client: Don’t I know it. I’ll go before you lapse into Latin.

Solicitor: Veni vidi vici.

Client: Too late. I’m outa here. Arrivederci. (Exits, closing door. Solicitor rubs hands together. Curtain)

 Tich Ennis

7th July, 2018








Land of my birth what are you worth?

In pounds shillings and pence, have sense.

Foreigners choose to come here to live, why?

Is it a good place to die?

If you come looking for logic you came to the wrong place.

We are from another planet, outer space.

We are great at complaining, that’s a complaint.

Am I a foreigner, I ain’t.

Saint Patrick was a foreign saint.

Pubs used to be expensive, now you couldn’t give them away.

Are drink driving laws here to stay?

If young people ran things would everything be better or are they too busy boozing, or choosing?

Why doesn’t someone do something, who, me?

Wait and see.

If talking was a cure we’d all be well.

Make your own Heaven or Hell.

I’m stuck here anyway, I’m lazy.

Land of the crazy.

When someone says jump do you ask how high?

You are not I.

I did not choose my place of birth, I had no choice.

Land of James Joyce.

Why do Irish people emigrate?

Can’t they stand each other or at least tolerate?

The wind is so blowy I can’t write my poem, it turns over the page.

Yet I don’t feel rage.

Nothing’s ever perfect here.

I take solace in beer.

I drink therefore I am.

Do you want bread with your jam?

Shaw the Irish writer said a patriot is a person who thinks a country is the best in the world because he was born in it, funny but true.

I’ve met the type, have you?

They bore me to death, things are good because they’re good, not because of where they’re from.

There are good things about Ireland, don’t get me wrong.

Music, horses, pubs, talk, scenery to name a few or three.

Least of all me.

Can we agree?

I should have got a haircut today but that will have to wait ‘til Monday now.

Some say poets should have long hair anyhow.

En passant means in passing in French, so I speak.

When will I get through to you, the middle of next week?

Read between the lines, not all the time.

Talking too much is an Irish crime.

The Irish romanticise their history, don’t you?

I’ve got news for you, romance is not true.

Tich Ennis

7th July, 2018

Great Truths

You think you’re talking about others but you’re talking about yourself and your perception of the universe.

It could be worse.

Is the self a curse?

If I ask you will you tell me what to do?

Or only speak about you?

I for one believe in the Sun oh yes and the Moon.

Will enlightenment come soon?

Well yes, the Sun will rise another day.

That is all I have to say.

On this fantastic day.

Tich Ennis

7th July, 2018

Your Face

I saw you once with worry on your face every other time you were filled with grace.

I saw you walking in the Sun you smiled and so did I.

I said hello I did not say goodbye.

We went our separate ways I hope we meet on other days.

I have not yet sold you my book, I hope you read and look.

A ray of sunshine in this life of mine.

A glass of wine.

Who knows maybe some happy day you and I will find our way.

Until then I remember your face.

Charm and grace.

Tich Ennis

7th July, 2018


What can I say that has not been said, before I’m dead?

Nothing very much it seems.

I whisper to you in your dreams.

I am the world you’re wishing for, hopefully not bloodstained war.

I am hope and peace and love, above the battlefield a dove.

Someday you may come to me and I to you, the blind may see.

I believe, I am not one.

I am many, look, no gun.

The way of peace is brave and true.

I am ignored, are you?

Do what you must do.

Be as you must be.

Leave the rest to me.

Tich Ennis

5th July, 2018