the poetic manifesto

half heard melodies at dawn

dreams or the traces of dreaming

a woman's name said soft like breathing

memories of faces gone

footsteps in the hall on winter nights

sadness in the heart where love has been

softness on the fields after a storm

shadows bright with remembering

we will go

through cowardice to bravery

into the timeless eye of mind

across the ungovernable sea

to where all poems have their end

and their beginnings naturally

come with me

ireland's new governments

A Brief Guide...

For the third week in a row IRA skang gangs have been shooting up the streets of Dublin. With all the mayhem going on, it's hard to keep track of who's killing who. Here is the news. Disparate gangland factions in Ireland are all controlled and mentored by various factions of the IRA. Sometimes people get confused when IRA thugs from different gangs shoot each other. But whatever faction is doing the shooting, it's all Rah. The IRA own gangland in Ireland. Our brief but helpful guide will clear up the confusion though not the trash,


1. The first IRA shooting in Dublin in recent weeks involved a hit on the Kinahan drug gang who were staging a boxing match promotion at the Regency Hotel. The Kinahan mob is controlled by Ireland's main IRA faction, ie the one led by a terrorist mass murderer styled Slab Murphy, who is currently serving a twelve month pattycake sentence for tax evasion. Slab Murphy's IRA uses parliamentarian Gerry Adams and the Sinn Fein political party as proxies in the Irish parliament.

2, The second IRA shooting in recent weeks was the Kinahan mob's retaliation against the perpetrators of the earlier murder at the Regency Hotel. This retaliation was directed against the Hutch mob who are controlled by the IRA faction known as the Continuity IRA. The Hutch mob has recently bought residential property in my home town of Kilcullen and they've really brightened up our bucolic haven with their cheeky chappy personas and their nice shiny Audis. Sources claiming to be from the Continuity IRA, and using a Continuity IRA code word to validate their identity to reporters, have taken credit for the murder carried out by the Hutch mob at the Regency Hotel. The retaliation by the Kinahan mob featured the murder of a brother of the Hutch mob kingpin.

3. The third IRA shooting in recent weeks occurred yesterday. A mobster styling himself Vinnie Ryan was shot by persons unknown in a Dublin street. Vinnie Ryan's IRA faction is styled the Real IRA. It is not yet clear which IRA faction killed him.


These IRA skang gangs are the real rulers of Ireland. They earn a living by dealing drug poisons to the children of Ireland. They leech off the history of Ireland to pose as freedom fighters. The citizens of Ireland live in fear of them. The only thing they themselves fear is internment without trial in overseas prisons and the revocation of their Irish citizenship.

hung parliament in ireland

Outgoing Prime Minister Enda Kenny stood before the assembled parliament.
Unzipping his fly he plonked Hezekiah down on the lectern.
"Mine is bigger than yours," he roared defiantly, "ye whingers."
With calm dignity the IRA terrorist mafia's proxy parliamentarian Sinn Fein capo Gerry Adams stood up and strode to the lectern.
"No it's not," he cried, unzipping and brandishing Ezekiel.
All over the chamber similar cries went up and similar zips were unzipped to reveal similar euphemisms for penises.
It was like the I'm Sparticus moment in Sparticus, except with penises.
The women parliamentarians, many of them elected under gender mandate legislation which had disqualified more popular candidates, ie candidates with more votes, for the crime of having penises, looked on enviously.
The Speaker of the House hammered his gavel, futilely seeking to regain control.
"Order," he cried in desperation. "Order, order, order. Would the members of the house please remember where they are!"








Glossary.
Gavel: Irish euphemism for penis.

modest discourses about unimportant things

Caitriona said: "James I'm not saying you don't have a right to an opinion. I'm just saying you will never have to make a decision about whether to end a pregnancy or not. No man will ever have to face that decision."
I replied: "You really are saying I don't have a right to an opinion. But if your life was in danger and a rescuer showed up, you wouldn't waste any time wondering about what gender your rescuer was."
Caitriona said: "All I'm saying is you will never know what it is like to face the choice of ending a pregnancy. No man will."
I said: "You caused your mother just as much pain in childbirth as I caused mine. You can't pull gender rank to justify killing unborn children."
Caitriona said: "I'm not pulling rank. And I'm not justifying abortion. I'm not even saying you've no right to an opinion. I'm just saying you will never know what it's like to face that situation."
I said: "All I've done is to tell you murder is wrong. Why would you say that simply because I'm a man I'm not fit to reject types of murder that I myself will never be in a position to commit? I'll never live in Germany in 1939. I'll never face the choice of sending Jewish people to die in Concentration Camps. That time is past. I can't be there. But I still know it's wrong. And I still know I have a duty to say it's wrong. And I still know I have a duty to try to prevent it happening again. And so do you."

vote spoiling campaign in ireland

Coffee with Yvonne.
"Listen," she said, "what I say next, I don't want appearing on your blog."
"You're not that interesting," I replied as per my standard response to people concerned about making undesired special guest appearances on this website. "Nothing you say is ever worth quoting on The Heelers Diaries."
"Tell me you won't put it on your blog," she insisted.
A vague and distant Look came over my handsome preraphaelite features, and I nodded... vaguely and distantly.
It was a vague and distant Look the old editor of the now defunct Leinster Leader newspaper would have recognised from when I worked for him.
With a bit of wishful thinking it might connote agreement.
It meant no such thing.
"Promise me," she said.
"If I say I won't do it, I won't do it," quoth me cautiously.
This seemed to satisfy her.
"You know I think the electoral process is flawed," she began. "Well me and my brother were joking about launching a vote spoiling campaign, You know as a sort of protest. I'd get my five Facebook friends and his four Facebook friends to spoil their votes deliberately in exactly the same way, and soon everybody would be doing it. We just need a symbol that we could put on our ballots. We were thinking we might draw little bums opposite all the candidates faces on the ballot paper. It could be the beginning of a mass protest movement."
Ho hum bold readers.
The sort of dross people think I'm going to put on this website.
She paused with an expectant expression on her face, either seeking some sign of approval from me or waiting for me to suggest suitable vote spoiling icons.
I shook my handsome head.
"I have bad news for you," I said seriously. "Our venerable democracy is well up to your little games. The Irish Times had an article this week about what constitutes an acceptable vote in Ireland. It highlighted one case during the Presidential election where a voter put X's over the faces of all the candidates except Michael D Higgins. In black marker the voter had scrawled: 'I'm not voting for any of these jokers, I'm voting for the Batman." He'd then drawn a Batman mask over Michael D Higgins face. And the returning officer deemed that this was a genuine vote and included it in the tallies because the voter had clearly indicated a preference. Imagine it. No wonder bloody Higgins won the election. If you and your brother think drawing bums or penises or breasts or whatevers opposite candidates on ballot papers in Ireland will actually spoil your votes, you may be in for a rude awakening. Irish returning officers are made of sterner stuff. They're liable to interpret your votes depending on their own personal preferences regarding bums, penises and breasts and whatevers, and to conclude based on their own predilections that you yourself have clearly indicated a preference. I'm a breast man myself. But never mind that. Your mass protest movement is clearly in trouble before it gets off the ground."