Tag Archives: Writing

Abandoned Child

Unwanted gift.

Will this child get short shrift?

In swaddling clothes and a free manger.

Deposited by a stranger.

Delivered to the door.

Do you want more?

Another mouth to feed.

How do they breed?

Children in need.

He will grow up to be a man, if allowed.

Who wants his shroud?

Rain brings flowers from every cloud.

Baby, baby cutchy coo.

Is that you?

Happy Christmas too.

Tich Ennis

12th December, 2017

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Creature

I am a creature of my time and place, I have a handsome face.

So a woman said to me as I passed by, who am I to disagree, who am I?

My time is all time that went before and youth and age, do I bore?

My place is here, stick in the mud, I travelled, I have Irish blood.

So there you have it, God’s child speaks, holidays in how many weeks?

So I may have asked at school in endless time, was I a fool?

Time goes faster when you’re old, but I don’t care, my story told.

I am not sure quite what I am.

Frankly, I don’t give a damn.

Clark Gable said that before me in the most popular film in history.

Until Star Wars came along, I saw that too, another song.

I like art of almost every kind.

Simple things are best, I find.

Tich Ennis

10th December, 2017

Ballbreaker

God keeps kicking me in the balls or is it the other fellow?

Have I a streak down my back of vivid yellow?

I never really expect anything much, I sure don’t get it.

I lay in bed as a child and wet it.

Now in later life I have no wife.

If I had how would she put up with me?

Patron saint of lost causes, rescue me.

Some few like what I do.

Do you?

A lonely soul struggling to be true.

I apologise for using a coarse word.

Its not the worst I ever heard.

That word is synonymous with bravery.

I’ll have a cup of tea.

Should I end here or say so many promises are broken?

I speak a truth unspoken.

Where is Hoboken?

I do my best all the time.

Am I guilty of a crime?

Kafka instructed that all his work be burned.

I am the worm who turned.

No, I don’t want my stuff to go up in smoke.

I don’t want my life to be a dirty joke.

Self-pity is despicable, I know that too.

I’ll get over it, will you?

Believe me I pity all of you.

I have more or less run out of tears in my advanced years.

Against all odds I have one more thing to say, to turn night into day.

This dope has hope.

Tich Ennis

10th December, 2017

Poster Boy

Poster designed by me not printed yet.

CD not duplicated yet.

Its coming, like Christmas.

Book ready in small quantities.

We can but try, Tich Ennis, 9th December, 2017

Extremism

Extremists wear any cloak, they never smile, they never joke.

In the name of what is best they kill the rest.

Nationalism, ideology and other codology it kills you and your child too.

More deadly than the Asian flu.

What the Hell is religion for, to bring us hate and death and war?

How about love one another and everyone and all God made?

You live in shadow and in shade.

Is God a God of peace or what, you believe a lot of rot.

We believe what you do not what you say, Satan, Satan go away.

Allow a child to play.

Tich Ennis

9th December, 2017

Usually

There’s usually more to things than meets the eye.

You may find that out before you die.

If not then.

Or when?

Remember the four year old boy drowned on a beach in Greece?

In designer clothes, poor, give my head peace.

The news is in the business of sensation, disneyfied, to shock the nation.

It happens here in Ireland too, don’t rush to judgement, would you like someone to do that to you?

A dead drug addict on the street outside the Dail, is that the whole story, not at all.

More or less believe nothing that you hear or see, its not that simple, read history.

The news is not news but views.

That sells papers, shock, outrage.

Turn the page.

Calm down, its not that bad.

The world is mad.

As presented to you, on radio and TV too.

The internet is the latest place for lies.

Does it fool the wise?

I said usually not inevitably always, trust your judgement, not some journalist.

In some cases speed is required, don’t ask me everything, I’m tired.

Like crossing the street or when your house goes on fire.

Once more I say may your judgement be good.

Don’t mistake trees for the wood.

Tich Ennis

5th December, 2017

Must I?

Must I write poems all the time, must I say everything in rhyme?

My best friend said yes, keep writing, at least when you’re writing you’re not fighting.

Long ago, so we were told, Ireland was nothing but saints and scholars.

Now we sell ourselves for dollars.

Priests don’t wear collars.

Maybe this will never see the light of day, so what, its what I have to say.

I have not gone away.

Neither I nor the IRA.

I do as needs must.

Before I turn into dust.

Gold does not rust.

Tich Ennis

23rd November, 2017