The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland

Friday, November 19, 2010

the gift

Eyes shining, Genia pressed something into my hands.
Around us the Cafe Insomnia caterwauled with youthful chaotica.
I looked down.
A brightly wrapped package.
I undid the packaging.
And lo!
She appeared to have presented me with a portable CD player.
Tender is the night, as they do say in President Putin's school for hired killers.
A rueful smile creased my handsome features.
I doubted I would ever listen to this particular apparatus.
One of the problems with having a friend whom you think is an assassin working for the Russian KGB and intent on killing you, is that accepting gifts from her becomes something of an anticlimax.
"Thanks Genia," I murmured as soulfully as I could in the circumstances.
I examined the music box expertly.
I was wondering what part of it held the anthrax, or botulism toxin, or mini scorpion, or black widow spider, or cobra, or Polonium 90, or whatever it is the young sexy assassins are using nowadays.
Probably the earphones.
I peered at them.
They looked okay.
Gentle travellers of the internet, I know very little in life, but I am quite certain those earphones will never encase a finely honed preraphaelite Heelers' ear.
Although the earphones might be too obvious.
It's more likely the whole thing is a bomb.
"Would you like a coffee?" enquired Genia.
"I'll get it," I said hurriedly.
First rule of counter espionage: Don't leave her alone with the coffees.
I rose and made my way towards the counter, favouring her with repeated sweet smiles and many a backward glance as I sidled across the noisy cafe.
My sweet smiles like my oft repeated glances were the result not so much of hearfelt fondness as of a strong inclination never to turn my back on her.

Thursday, November 18, 2010


forget the calls of woe and wealth
the wind is still
the ground rock hard
behold god's wonders
darkness pluming breath
the fields the fens the ditches and the stars
bold traveller come to ireland in the winter time
see the plough pitch and yaw across a jewelled sky
orion's goat wander back and forth
you'll say healy's was a trivial rhyme
but it brought me here
and i'm grateful just the same

Tuesday, November 16, 2010



Monday, November 15, 2010

confucius he say

It's always a sobering moment in a young man's life when the most beautiful, artistic, intellectual, poetic, soulful girl with whom he's been getting on famously, suddenly says: "Have you seen the David Icke website? I think he's really on to something."

Sunday, November 14, 2010

aung san suu kyi

a bird took flight from inye lake
her course lay west through the setting sun
over tangled fields and ancient streets
the ground beneath trembled as she passed
and soft it seems this royal night
that rich are we whose tears are shed
for she is free of inye lake
and tyranny is dead