Proinnsias

Proinnsias

Outrageous Poems - Excerpts

JUNIRA NATIONS

 In a pub one night,
'Twas quite amazin';
I underwent
A transformation ...

TIT SHAKING

There was a fad in some Dublin pubs for ladies to expose their breasts, late on in the night, and do a bit of jolly tit-shaking. Great gas, except when it’s your mother doing the thing. It is a bit of a skill, involving muscle movement from the knees up.

In this drinking place,
When the hour is getting late,
And we’re all in a merry state,
You may see some tits a’ shaking.
The music blares, nya nya,
Then off will come a bra,
And, bejasus, there’s your ma
On her feet with tits a’ shaking ...

FEMALE MODES OF DRESS
(or THE MINISKIRT
)

Every year there was a mission, where preachers visited the Parish to denounce sins of the flesh.  Wednesday was ladies’ night, when the womenfolk were harangued for their immodesty, including lipstick and mascara, the uplift bra, and any style that showed a bit of flesh.  Gentlemen took the message on board, blaming women’s immodesty for their recurring “bad” thoughts.

Is it any wonder
Sex inundates the nation,
When so many of our women
Are so provocative and brazen?
 ...

CAT

Someone saw a pussycat
And lured her to my door
With a bowl of breakfast milk,
And she came back for more ...

CATERPILLAR

 A little caterpillar
Crept out of the grass
Onto a concrete path
Where many humans pass ...

 PADDY BALONEY

This is a reconstruction of my very first poem, written when I was seven. The original was lost, because I tore it up in disappointment when my jovial classmate, the subject of the poem, said it was rubbish. It did not occur to me that his judgment of the poem’s literary merit would be adversely affected by the fact that I called him “Paddy Baloney” and criticised the game he had created.

I’ll tell you a story
About Paddy Baloney,
Who sits beside me in school ...

GARDEN OF FLOWERS


A garden full of flowers:
So beautiful to see!
There I’d spend many hours
Beneath the flowering tree ...

CHRISTMAS WHEN

At some stage, an awakening body brings a re-appraisal of the universe of childhood.

Do you remember Christmas when
You were a few years past the age of ten
And Santa Claus had lost his spell
And magic: it was fading?
...

GANDHI’S KNELL

At school, we, in good humour, imagined our teachers dead. Our science teacher, Brother Edward Laffan, nicknamed “Gandhi,” was very much alive when I circulated this epitaph. “Beak” was our word for the principal teacher, nicknamed “Biffo,” and “Pancho” was the nick-name of our form-master.


Here he died, where once he stood
Behind his mighty bench of wood,
Where golden crystals once showered down
And pen-knives turned a golden brown ...

THE WITCH

Where great giants gather
For colloquy in vast halls,
And hang their mighty spears
From ropes around the walls ...

FRANKIE WANKIE

Every Francis is, at some stage, called “Frankie Wankie,” entirely without malice. It is, let me make clear, with humour that I take exception to the moniker. Wasting one’s seed, let me add, is a reference to the Catholic denouncement of any sperm-spillage outside of a valid act of intercourse within marriage.

Frankie Wankie is not my name.
Would you call me Krunchie, please, for shame!
And explain what is it; what’s your game,
That you called me Frankie Wankie?
...

APPROACHING TWENTY

I have lived.
But soon, I see, I will have reached
The crabby old age of twenty,
Whence forth I shall frown
On all those sweet enjoyments
Which made life dear,
And crawl
From day to day with toil
Like all old men ...

Twenty One (Put Your Miniskirt On)

Hey there, you fine thing, now you're twenty one,
Just go and put your miniskirt on;
Tart up your face and put on a false tan
And go to the disco and bring home a man.

Go on now, get your man;
Go on now, get your man;
Go on now, get your man,
Get your man, get your man ...

The Bourgeoisie

“Comrades” and “Workers’ Party,” I found, were just as provocative as “Tits” and “Knickers.”

Ah, Comrades, listen to what I say:
I got a message for you today:
This country will never be truly free,
Till we eliminate the Bourgeoisie ...

MY LOVE BITES



Dear Agony, this letter said,
My boyfriend does strange things in bed.
I fear it is a mortal sin;
He never puts his organ in;
My cheek and chin he tends to peck,
Then sinks his teeth into my neck ...

TYPING SECTION


I often get a quiet erection,
When I visit Typing Section ...

JOAN MAGUIRE

(From, and to the air of, the song in Irish, “Siún Ní Dhuibhir”)

Early this morning I left for the fair in Boyle.
I met a fine lady who threw me a friendly smile.
I sat down beside her to chat for a little while,
And I spent all my money there drinking with Joan Maguire ...

TRAIN TO HELL 

I took a Train to Heaven:
But Oh! What an awful smell,
For on the opposite platform
Was a Train that was bound for Hell ...

HIMALAYAN LONGEVITY

High up in the Himalayas
They Live a hundred and fifty years
And women of over a hundred
Still look like Britney Spears ...

LILY WHITE BREAST

A song to a traditional Irish template, in the air of Bríd Óg Ní Mháille.
  
With each breath of my breathing
Of you I'm surely dreaming,
For, my heart and my mind,
They are never at rest.
As distracted forth I sally,
I am blind to hill and valley,
For all I see before me
Is your lily-white breast.

O God, your lily-white breast ...

RETIREMENT SONG

They expect you to say you have mixed feelings about leaving, and that you will miss them all. Instead, give them this. Air: Vincent Campbell’s Mazurka.
     
Now I’m Leaving, I’m glad to go.
Will I miss you? No!
Will I miss you? No!
Now I’m Leaving, I’m glad to go.
Will I miss you all?
That’s No ...

THE HERO

 An overwhelming force against him plied.
He fired a shot and jumped to cover. Then,
Leaping out, he clobbered two armed men
And hooked their captured weapons to his side ...

STATUE


The typical Irish Catholic home of the mid 20th Century was decorated with religious reproductions, to which company, American president John F Kennedy was an acceptable addition.  The emergence of secular art in modern homes was seen by some conservatives as a betrayal of the wholesome values of the past. I wrote the poem on arrival at a house-warming party in Galway in the 1960s to find a Venus statue in the hallway.

In the naked nude it stands,
A Venus statue without hands.
Woe, woe, woe; yes, woe is me!
It is a sinful sight to see ...

WORMS


Worms and creepy things abound
In my garden, crawling round.
And, when the ground is sodden through,
Up they come for all to view ...

SPARE A THOUGHT

 Spare a thought for wriggly worms
Round your garden creeping.
Remember, friend, that when you dig,
You leave worm widows weeping ...

THE GREAT GOD PAN

Pan, in mythology, is a god, in the form of a great hunk of a man as far as the waist, but from there on down he takes the form of a goat. He roams around the countryside playing sweet music on his flute, and those who hear this music, particularly females, are filled with zest for life; it awakens their sensual nature.


The Great God Pan, when he plays his whistle,
Makes all the females that hear him bristle;
Quickens their pulse and, by the gallon,
Their glands secrete adrenaline ...

JIMMY LOVES MARY

 Jimmy loves Mary a lot.
They tell me the word is "besot."
     To get him to wed,
     Did she hold a gun to his head?
The answer is clear: she did not ...

BOOKS

I'll lay these wretched books,
Lay them aside for sure.
Just now for chronic boredom
I need an instant cure ...

IN SLATTERY'S

Where, in the late 1960s, I ran a folk club at which The Pavees – consisting of John Keenan Snr & Jnr, Paddy Keenan, Paul & George Furey and Mick Moriarty – were the resident group.


It's been some weeks since I've been here:
You may have wondered where I'd gone.
Well, I've been to London town,
A place renowned for crack and song.

A place renowned for pleasures, too,
Of another nature,
Like the blond I met in Soho,
A really glorious creature ...

KRUNCHIE AND MILADY

I asked an 86 year old man how he was. He replied: “Well, I’m still chasing women, but I can’t keep up with them now.”


Have you seen Milady?
Wherever is she gone,
With her yellow hair a flying
And her purple jumpsuit on?
...

THE DA


You wonder why I look so sad,
So dishevelled and unshaved:
It's because my Daddy is a cripple
And my Mammy's in her grave ...

THE GREAT SIX - O

 The great Six-O to me has come;
Another phase of life begun;
Family grown and duty done;
Pass on my mantle to my son;
              Fuck it!
...

MY GARDEN

A blaze of golden colour
Will delight the eye
Of all the massive multitudes
That pass my garden by ...

GOOD MORNING


With a gentle "Good Morning" I wake her.
Her response is a grunt and a groan.
"Good Morning, my Darling", I whisper.
She mutters, "Just leave me alone" ...

SNOW WHITE

Snow White, when she grew up,
Became a wicked queen.
The mirror on the wall
Foreclosed her dream ...

VACANT MOOD

 Unlike that other poet,
When on a couch I lie,
It is not golden daffodils
That flash before my inward eye ...

DO YOU YEN FOR A FEEL

(I noticed that some old men in a nursing home had delusions about getting off with the nurses)


Do you yen for a feel,
Though you're old and grey?
Do you yen for a feel,
When your wife's gone away?
Do you yen for a feel
At the break of the day,
Like a Hound with your horn
In the morning?
,,,

OBSESSED

My mind is obsessed with painting.
All night and all day long
I ponder the possibilities
Of composition and form ...



THE DANCE IN THE VILLAGE HALL


Tis well that I remember
The dance in the village hall,
Where the boys and girls assembled
Along each opposite wall ...

NAIROBI ZOO

You may not believe this story;
But I assure you it is true.
It’s about the time I went
To visit Nairobi Zoo ...

SILVER WEDDING


It was a mistake from the start,
For head was over-ruled by heart.
But was it heart, or lower still?
Was it lust instructed will?
...


CORRAKIT

(From the Irish)



Lonely the homes of Corrakit;
Miserable its men and women.
They have neither joy nor wit,
And hate to spend a shillin' ...

THE CIVIL SERVANT

The look of astonishment
Upon a person's face,
When he finds a civil servant
Has a human trait ...

THE NEW DAUGHTER OF HOULIHAN

(After W. B. Yeats' Red Hanrahan's Song about Ireland)


Hoods laced tight, and eyes asquint against the blowing sand,
We brave the storm to walk on Cummin strand.
Wow! that old tree just broke in two and half has taken flight,
Then crashed and tumbled like a broken kite.
Great Scott! This storm could lift you off your feet
And toss you around like a piece of tumbleweed ...

MAYO IN JULY


In Mayo, July is often like November:
Dark Clouds all day obliterate the sun;
A storm marauds across the uncut meadows,
And the mood of every living thing is glum ...

HE DOESN’T LOVE ME ANY MORE

She said, “He doesn’t love me any more,
Although he swears sweet nothings as before
And smothers me with kindness, even more,
My lover doesn’t love me anymore ...

DILLY’S DIET

Dilly being overweight
Caused her doctor her to berate:
“If you lose a few pounds,
You’re heart will be sound
And your figure will really be great” ...

ONE TEA BAG

One tea bag can furnish
Many cups of tea.
That they waste so many
Is a cause of concern to me ...

HOME COMPUTERS

Home computers were devised
By a fellow of subversive frame of mind:
His object, within the home,
To create conditions of revolt.
The machine would be a teenage tool
To make middle aged dad feel a fool ...

THE SECOND SIXTY-FIVE


Well, at the age of sixty five,
Says you, I’m lucky to be alive.
But the odds are very good today
A second sixty five will come my way ...

JACUZZI


I wonder wot ’appened to my sperms
W’en I wanked in the Jacuzzi.
Did the chlorine zap them right there and then
Or did they live to search out Jill or Suzy?
...

RESOLUTION

On this, the first of January,
Let each man raise his beer
And make a solemn resolution
For the coming year ...

PISTACHIOS

Achios is his name,
But on Saturday night he became
                Pistachios ...

THE THRUSH

I believe it was a thrush that woke me up at dawn, although I never seemed to hear it during the day.

I curse and swear to hear
The thrush sing at dawn.
Push off, you little fecker,
I hate your blasted song ...

PADDY MACARONI

 On the appointment of Giovanni Trapatoni as manager of the Irish soccer team

The spud has been abandoned here:
We’re eating macaroni.
Cast off your gloom, be of good cheer
And follow Trapattoni.
Cast off your gloom; be of good cheer;
Our day of glory’s coming near;
To face the foe we have no fear
With Giovanni Trapattoni ...

ITALIANS

I don’t think they work in Italy:
It is far too hot.
They loll around in languid mode,
Drink wine, and talk a lot ...

OBAMA’S LIKE MY FATHER

O’Bama’s like my father:
He has an Irish name.
They call him “Barrack” in America,
But it’s “Paurick” just the same ...

LEWINSKY

Every married man would like
A Lewinsky in his office;
And, I suggest, a clever wife
Will turn this to her profit ...

The Dawning of the Day

(From the Irish)

One morning early, I set out by Killarney’s Lake so fair.
The dew was sparkling on the grass and sunlight warmed the air.
The blooms were bursting from the bough, as it was the month of May,
And a mystery girl walked by my side, at the Dawning of the Day ...

PASSIVE RESISTANCE

I sit before the Master
In silent prayer.

I offer no answer;
But close my ear ...

SEE CRETARY GENTS

Dag’s Hammer’s Cold,
Wanky Moon.
You Shan’t be so bold,
I assume ...

JASPER, JASPER

Jasper, Jasper, in the sky,
Why do you make so many die?
Tsunami, earthquake, flood and storm:
Why cause such harm?
...

DUBLIN CAN BE HEAVEN

“Dublin can be Heaven:”
But it will cost you more
Than the price that you would pay
In Bankok or Bangalore ...

HOUR ON A BEAN

Air: Chorus of the Irish National Anthem. Next time you are at an Irish football match, sing along with these words. Nobody will know the difference!

She on a fee on a fall,
A toffee: ya'll a caring?
Been there slew;
Heard e'en the Ronnie cooing ...


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