The Life and Times of the Heaneymimus

By Shenandoah Kelly

CHILDREN
Children have been burned to death;
Has the Heaneymimus got up off his big fat shoneen arse yet?
No better man to second guess a spud,
No better man to eulogise mud;
Children have been burned to death;
Has the Heaneymimus got up off his big fat shoneen arse yet?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shenandoah Kelly
• Release date: Mar 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301450671

Book preview

The Life and Times of the Heaneymimus

By

Shenandoah Kelly

Copyright 2013 Shenandoah Kelly

Smashwords Edition

Poem # 1

BOG

Children have been burned to death __

Has the Heaneymimus got up off his fat shoneen arse yet?

No better man to eulogise mud,

No better man to chronicle the spud;

Children have been burned to death __

Has the Heaneymimus left his spiritual bog yet?

Poem # 2

BLOOD IN THE STREETS

The Old Woman of Mossbawn does her daily rounds,

Converting Irish poetry into English pounds;

She keeps to her narrow old woman ways on her old woman feet;

There’s blood in the streets!

There’s blood in the streets!

On Kingshilling Lane, she espies eagle with plumage green-white-and-gold,

And she scours shoneen-middened mind for words with which it to scold;

The Old Woman of Mossbawn is doing her daily rounds,

Converting Irish poetry into English pounds;

She keeps to her narrow old woman ways on her old woman feet;

There’s blood in the streets!

There’s blood in the streets!

Poem # 3

INFRA DIG

Between England’s buttocks, in England’s bum,

Shoneen scribbler’s tongue rests__ tweedledee, tweedlebum;

From hack’s windy windpipe, queer sounds,

From a forked tongue licking Saxon shite studded with coffee grounds;

In flowerbed, digging a hole for himself, inkslinger’s trews come down,

In the service of the Crown;

The Digging Dramatist licked more of Albion’s Arses in a day’s hard slog

Than there are tormentil growing in Allen’s Bog!

He comes up for Derry Air,

Hears blushing Castledawson’s fervent prayer;

His ego jigging,

He starts digging.

Digging,

Digging,

Digging.

Poem # 4

TENSION

There is a tension between a dam and a river,

The Heaneymimus knew this, and said so with a quiver;

The Londonderryman (revealed as such on the Beeb) had thus lanced the boil,

Whilst doffing his cap to scroungers royal;

Came then sterling man’s volcanic eruption of the heart?

"The

Reviews for The Life and Times of the Heaneymimus

[judy griffin · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

What I didn't like about this is it is a book for children.