Thursday, February 25, 2010


THe poet tree bus rides again!

Well disciples here we go.

I was walkin and talkin to mrs EEjit and we came round to life and death and the hereafter. I was thinking, and I confess I don't much these days, and I should, of my Dad ,who died when I was 16, almost 300 years ago. I felt he hadn't a great life and I felt he sacrificed his happiness for ours and I felt heavy in my heart and I hadn't really felt actually physically heavy of heart before.
And we were wondering if there is a heaven and if there is my Dad is surely up there. But then if there is a heaven, there must also be a hell and the thoughts of eternal hell is not at all pleasant. If hell is a reality it surely should be feared and yet the final judgement is like an exam around the corner and I continually fail to revise for the test.
Do we shove the realities of death too far away, should we face the challenge of life more square on? Wouldn't it be better if there was neither heaven nor hell, if we just lived the best or worse we could and then died? Eternity is quite a long time.Eternal bliss has it's advantages but if there is such a thing as eternal damnation should we not be better prepared?
For me I would like there to be nothing after death, you live, you die, that's it, feck it.I'm no good at tests.They're all fine and dandy if you pass but what about the failures? This eternal life after death is a feckin curse. Can you imagine dying, that's bad enough , but being rent from your friends and family and leaving this life alone? All alone facing into a new heaven or a new hell without a hand to hold , lips to kiss or worries to be shared? Fuck me! I hate doing anything on my own, even nipping down to Aldi, let alone facing into eternal hellfire pain and torment and watching Liverpool.
Also are there degrees of heaven and hell? If I never park in a mother and baby space, stay faithful , pay a few bills and don't murder anyone, should I really be in the penthouse suite with Mother Theresa ? Conversely if I were to punch a few politicians, drive my car without a tax disc and steal a pound of sausages from Tesco, should I really share a bunk bed with Adolf Hitler?

So this weeks challenge poetry peeps is to tell me your reality. Your hopes, fears, worries, dreams, hope, despairs, indifference of the next life, or lack of it.Whether you be catholic, agnostic, protestant, muslim, atheist, buddhist, Jew, mormon, amish, baptist, liverpool fan, whatever tell me your truth in a poem.

Ps. I don't know anything about anything but I was walking (again, I do my best thinking while drunk and/or walking) and absent mindedly thinking about all my relatives that I loved and who had supported me unconditionally through my life and I was thinking how I was lost without them and their support when this gust of wind from nowhere pushed me gently but firmly in the back along the path. I being a kind of a 'believer' took this to mean that though 'gone' they were still with me and also that I would see them again.I took some comfort from this.

If I weren't a believer it might just have been a meaningless isolated meteorological phenomenon, or an abstract ethereal blip . Either,all, or none, could be true. Let me know!

Write them poems! And put a comment in my comments box so I can post links to all your pomes.The Bus leaves on Monday burt here are a few early birds...


Double Trouble Teressa
And apron strings eternal

Moo! Watch out for Weaver!

Communionication with Peter Goulding

Sorting the Tiger Woods from the trees with Rachel Fox

Little light Lakatos

Lupus treading soft

Come home, feed the cat , but Don't Feed The Pixies

See God through Barbara's binoculars

Life after death with Niamh

Weighty thoughts from Willow

Blast from the past Gypsy Moth Dominic Rivron

Angsty then Argent goes to Nashville

Tell us Titus!

Sleepy Swiss

One way ticket NanU

Return Journey visions from the Fox

Gifts for the reaper The Watercats

Hungry is the night Pure Fiction

Blowing bubbles with Emerging Writer

Sad Faith from Poetikat

'A wig of wires to helmet yourself '...... Winds of change from Padhraig Nolan

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

FREE POETRY BOOKS !!!! A saline solution.

Ok, they're not quite free, but there as near to free as they can be while still costing something,in some cases just one of your English pounds! How cool is that? I think there will be special offers every wednesday.I don't know anything about any of these books but I'll be getting Vincent de Souza's 'Resurrecting knives' and David Kennedy's 'The Devils Bookshop' purely because I like the titles, sure for a squid ye canno go wrong. Poetry ya gotta give it a lick to see if ya like it.

Also the outfit doing this offer is Salt publishing and they are deadly cool, they make some lovely books and seem to be innovative and fresh in their approach.They published our pals Liz Gallagher (The Wrong Miracle) and Nuala Ní Chonchúir's (nude) both of which are fabtastic.

They is very friendly too. Just before Christmas I was enquiring about 'The Missing' by Sián Hughes, as I'd heard great reports about it and it had a great cover.(I'm such a feckin EEjit for neato covers, I'm beginning to think the old adage is wrong) The hardback wasn't dear but I being poorer than an atheistic church mouse with a drink problem asked if a paperback verzione would be up for nabs later and yer man Chris Emery (Head Salty Boy) said he would sell me the hardback for the price of a paperback.I thanked him and said how that was brillo for I was skint, so then he unbelievably sent me the book for free as a Christmas present! How do you like that salt on yer chips? Twas a feckin good book too, I'd highly recommend it. They seem to publish loads of titles as well which is good news for aspiring poetatos. Here's all the clicky things below. And I'm not on a bonus from Salt , not one brown envelope has passed hands, (except the one with the book in it) as presking of peeps republo I is totallo independo, but Chris, if you are reading this (as if) and you have any more free books I'd be delighto! A lot of salt could be good for me after all.

A dozen unmissable offers from Salt as part of our ongoing JustOneBook campaign.
No. 1 Full Colour HB anthology “Poets in View” on offer at 70% off — Buy it now for £3.90!
No. 2 “Sister Morphine” Crime Fiction HB 80% off the RRP! Buy now for just £3.00!
No. 3 Buy Richard Marggraf Turley’s collection, “Wan-Hu’s Flying Chair” for just £1.00!
No. 4 Buy Tony Lopez’s collection, “Covers” for just £1.00!
No. 5 Buy Raymond Friel’s collection, “Stations of the Heart” for just £1.00!
No. 6 Buy John Burnside and Andy Brown’s “Goose Music” for just £1.00!
No. 7 Buy Sascha Aurora Akhtar’s “The Grimoire of Grimalkin” for just £1.00!
No. 8 Buy Vincent De Souza’s “Resurrecting Knives” for just £1.00!
No. 9 Buy Alexander Hutchison’s “Scales Dog” for just £1.00!
No. 10 Buy David Kennedy’s “The Devil’s Bookshop” for just £1.00!
No. 11 Buy Luke Kennard’s “The Migraine Hotel” for just £2.00!
No. 12 Full Col HB anthology “CONTOURLINES” on offer at 70% off — Buy it now for £3.90!

And thanks to everypeep that shat, sorry sat, on the Poetry Bus, twas mighty fine work as usual.I'm thinking hard for next weeks assasination. I mean assignment.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

MULE TRAIN!! NO, not Mule Train..POETRY BUS!!!!

Yeeehaw and yippidy doo! That old multi -wheeled red thing 'The Poetry Bus 'is hitting the virtual planet again.
Can't believe I got that wrong in the title, I've always confused Mule Train with Blue Moon (I saw you standing alone) but now this!

Anyways elsewhere in Blogsville mucho thanks ye to the anonymous hombre/hombrette who nominated me for an Irish blog award, and even though I thoroughly deserve it, I still gratefully thank them muchio.

And if you ,yes YOU! are here to judge my blog, take my word for it, it's feckin great and I really should win. It's the 'greatest blog in the world' says so on the tin. Also if there is any prize money I will share it with you ,Ok? Done deal dude/dudette.

Poetry Bus the magazine travels apace, quotes for printing have been made,funding has been sought, poems are being chosen (under the watchful eye, he's only got one, of Kosmo Spreadsheet) and even the cover has been designed.It's all systems go for what will ultimately be the second best poetry mag in the world! Watch out for the poetry bus mag blog starting soon on a planet near you. And there will be BADGES! FREE BADGES!! Yes, BADGES, for readers of ,and contributors to, the magazine.
A world class literary magazine with BADGES and whoopppe cushions!? This is like Whizzer and Chips or The Dandy, but with groundbreaking poetry and AK 47's. (Ok forget the guns and the whoopee cushions) But
Fantasticool n'est ce pas, my little poetry pachyderms? (I am the walrus you am the elephants)
As for this weeks poetry express driven by the Brazillian Bard of the steering wheel , Ayrton Senna, people are already hoppin aboard......

Lookedy , it's
Jeanne (say a litte prayer for me)

(Peepin') Poetikat

(Wild West) Watercats

(Hide it away) Heather

(Poetry as a weapon) Pure Fiction

(Dangerous) Domestic Oubliette... Crumbs!

Knocked down ) NanU

(Chooses Organic) Crazy Field Mouse

(Aching) Argent


Piss poor.

In my pockets nothing but fuckin holes
Streams of lucre
Filthy shining trailing a wake
Pissed up a wall
Every Friday night
And every other
A clockwork mouse on a track
Pints and vats and glasses and bottles
The river more travelled flowed
Through me, wore me out,
Washed me up, sank me down
Drowned drunk by afternoon
For 6 days 10 months and 20 years
And counting , counting , counting.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


Not sure I've even been round to all last weeks poetry lovers yet but some lovely stuff as usual.Check the previous post again as there are a few late entries due to some totalfeckinEEjit forgetting to add them.I've had a word with myself about this and will do better in future.Mucho apologistas to all concerned.

BzzBzzzBzz, busy I am, oh !So busy and so tired.

I'm as busy as an amphetemined bee with an overactive thyroid who's had Ralgex sprayed on his danglers and offered a night with the Queen Bee if he makes 200 jars of honey before the end of the week.

Still haven't sorted the Mister Linky thang fer da Bus.Still, never mind.

Poetry Bus the mag draws ever nearer, it's shaping up before it ships out.I'm still collecting pomes but it's looking mighty fine. I'm applying for funding to the local Arts office on Friday.If that fails theres another one called Artslinks and if that fails I'm robbing the local post office. (At night so no one gets hurt and so I can redirect all my bills to a different address. Might even get a few stamps and a TV licence while I'm there)

The POETRY BUS magazine is aiming to be the second best poetry magazine in the world, so I've got to keep buzzing.My (not so) little brother Kosmo Spreadsheet is proving to be a royal pain in the arse,supervising the poetry choices but he does know what he's doing and Mrs EEjit will bash him into shape personality wise.

Meanwhile why not write a poem for next Monday's virtual Poery Bus. It's being driven by the late Ayrton Senna, so fasten your seatbelts. (Ayrton was the greatest racing driver of all and is not to be confused with Ayrton Sennapod ,who is a shit driver.)

Write about ANYTHING but if you need a prompt then empty your pockets /wallets/ purses/handbags then write a detached poem about yourself , based on your personal items, what they might say about you. Imagine if you like that you are dead and someone is building a picture profile of you from your belongings.

Go for it now my children , away with you now, buzz off, bring me poems as sweet as honey, make them the bees knees, for now I must fly, her majesty awaits. Bzz ,Bzz Bzz,............

Saturday, February 13, 2010


Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?

(Thou art dull ,wet, disappointing and prone to greenfly.)

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

(Two minutes my love, I'm in the bathroom with the hemorrhoid cream.)

Tis better to have loved and lost (your cherry) than to never have loved at all.

Without love ,the rich and the poor live in the same house

(But the poor will do all the work)

If you love something, let it go, if it comes back to you it's ...(probably shite. or a frisbee)

Two souls with but a single thought, Two hearts that beat as one
(Must be Jedward)

A wise girl kisses but doesn't love, listens but doesnt believe, and leaves before she is left (with Arthur Miller.)

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

(Absinthe makes the heartbeat flounder)

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever (and save on the electricity bill.)

You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.

(you're also probably on drugs)

She walks in beauty, Like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright. Meet in her aspect and her eyes.

(I've seen her aspect and it's lovely)

Within you I lose myself. Without you I find myself wanting to become lost again.

(I'm in love with the maze at Hampton Court)

Gravity is not to blame for two people falling in love.

(nor , probably, for the apple that fell on yer head, y'EEjit!)

When Death to either shall come -- I pray it be first to me!

(I'm sick of the sight of ye!)

It's easy to halve the potato where there's love.

(Feck it , we'll have chips tonight)

O my Luve's like a red, red rose

That’s newly sprung in June:

but they're selling bunches In Tesco's now

and they cost a pretty tune (€39)

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

So deep in luve am I:

but when I see what Tesco charge

I fair begins tae cry

I'm looking fer a cheap Scottish Rose

not some supermarket Sassenach

this global thorn gives me a pain in me hole

or as I should say, my crack.

To me the Tesco Rose does seem

so expensive , pale and foreign

I think I will jus stay at home

and fiddle with me sporran.

To all you Lovers out there I wish you a very happy Valentines day, Frangipani and Ralgex, red roses and creme de menthe, maltesers and merlot, bleep and booster,slap and tickle, cheese and pickle,beer and sandwiches, love and laughter, hand in glove, smitten with mitten, all in all, rhyme and reasons to be cheerful part three.

The POETRY BUS is RED for PASSION, for LOVE, for HEARTS DESIRE, for €3 cheap day saver return, no unrequited journeys, this Bus is home, is safety, is sanctuary, is peace and love ,is far out man, a diesel-free poetry-powered freedom mobile . All aboard, get on board, all aboard with the double deckers, tell your friends you've been writing for a double decker poet bus! Pip ipoi and alls that, to infinito and beyondicus!


Rachel (Hounds of love) Fox

Crazee for lyin crazee for tryin crazzee for lovin you!

Jeanne, Love is a revolution, Lakatos

Amorous Argent

Wooing Watercats

Loving Liz

Hugging Heather

Necking Niamh

Bonking Barbara Smith

Erogenous Emerging Writer

Petting Poetikat

Dating Dominic Rivron

Wolf whistle Willow


WheehHaayy Weaver

Love me tender Titus

Passionate Pure Fiction

Automatic Lover Uiscebot

Panting P Nolan

Molten Moira

Smoochin Swiss

Kissin Karen

Thursday, February 11, 2010

OOOshanga! and CUSTARD CREAMS!!!!

Boolahooley! (This song IS a rebel song) Mr Bono.

For totalEEjit of The Peeps Republo

sweeps o'er the land

like a mighty wave

God grant him glory

for he is crazee

and opens heaven to all who care

his cause has called him

and will call tomorrow

in another fight against the shite again

It's okay peeps, they got me on milk and alcohol, without the whitestuff. Clothes maketh the man and a fortnight in the Algarve maketh the woman. Clothes and holidays is what we want.

For ask yourselves this (and do not stint on the answership, as truth is reality, is power, is FREEDOM:

'What does it profit a man (or woman, or goat. This is an equal opportunities multilingual equilateral triangle of a Republo) if he/she/ it gains the world, but loses their glasses down the back of the sofa?'

'What do you do when too much is never enough?' And how do you pay for it?

Where have all the flowers gone?

What is the secret of The Black Magic Box? ( Could it be dysentry?)

How do really drunk people find their way home? Do they use giant magnets?

Mr Sheen shines umpteen things clean ,but what if you have more than umpteen things? What if you have in excess of dumpteen things?

Besides, hasn't Charlie got films to make?

Yu see the clever thing is that,

Eskimos build houses, Eskimos live in them and Eskimos collect the rent. Except they're all inuits. (their words , not mine.)

I've just discovered that remembering is a totally fdifferent thing from not forgetting.

And dear people of the ethernet, POETRY BUS THE MAG is looming large on the horizon of my demesne like a giant collosus or a collossal giantus! Either way Baby we were born to RUN, would you look at our calves!

ArtySparkey has designed a totaly NEATO cover, I'm pulling in deadly poems like there's no tomorrow, and very little of next week. I've talked to printers and they've talked back and the thing is taking shape (squareoidous)I've entered the lottery (arse council funding) to prove or disprove an egalitarian approach to the arts.I'm holding my breath but cheating by taking sneaky little intakes through the nose. Honesty is paramount, truth will out if you have integrity, if you don't you will fail or falsely achieve. If you fail with a clean heart , you can have no regrets, fuck it! You live once and the accountant is watching. We will find a way.

Will shortly start a 'POETRY BUS- the magazine ' blog. I'm getting help and guidance,(Hello , my name is EEjit and I am a talcaholic) from The A Team! Mrs EEjit is aboard, Susan Sanford talented artist is aboard, my obnoxious brother ,Kosmo Spreadsheet, is making sure the bus is no freeride for publishing MEEE! and my friends.

Live long and prospero my earthling compatriots, eat, drink and be hairy! The hirsute shall inherit the razor!

As Eva sang in Evita,

'Stuff me, it's so easy to feed me

all I need is fish ,chips ,mushy peas

and a pint of bour-bon'

Saturday, February 6, 2010

It's down there for dancin'

What's the word on the street EEj? The word on the street this week ,peeps, is taxidermy! Watch out, there are people out there who want to stuff you.Yes YOU! So be warned, be on your guard. BE THE STEPPER NOT THE STONE!

In other news the EEjitmobile failed it's NCT (MOT) what do ye call it in Americaland? Do ye even have such a thing?It's a car safety test introduced to take rust bucket death traps off the road, a noble cause indeed.Initially. Now you can fail on requiring a sneeze into the tyres, or having the wrong colour paint to match your bloodshot eyes. There's fuck-all wrong with our car,my mechanic friend told me so, except that it needs a ball joint replacing, a ball joint that PASSED the NCT!!! FFS. Now we have to replace the defective ball joint that passed the test and also many sound items including rear brake discs that passed the brake test by a country mile, but failed.Riddle me that one oh Riddler.


Come the revolution , up against the wall# 47.... NCT testers. Oh Yes, I have a list , a LONG list, be warned!!!!

Elsewhere in the world THePoetry Bus rides again! By next monday 15th feb I want POEMS.I want PASSION, I want LOVE, I want HATE.Valentino Day is upon us, let that be your catalyst ,your touchstone, I want LIBIDO , I want FORNICATION, I want more LOVE and LUST and HATE. I want the full nine yards of the passions of LOVE. I want SOULMATESHIP I want UNREQUITED angst, I want FILTH and DEBAUCHERY , the one that got away, the ONE that NEVER should have been, I want your HEART and your SOUL, I want BLOOD upon the page of your ROMANTIC escapades.POETRY is not for the faint of HEART!

ALL poems will be considered SUBMISSIONS for the impending POETRY BUS magazine.If you do not want your poem to be published in said publication.LET ME KNOW!

This baby is gonna SOAR LIKE AN EAGLE or CRASH and BURN like a Phoenix. Either way it's not gonna be a half-arsed piece of shite. THis is going tobe the second best poetry magazine in the world, do not doubt me Oh ye of little faith, I am the ICEMAN ,I am THE WALRUS.The SHADOWS are no longer for me ,I will not live in them (ask Cliff) no longer will my light be hidden under a BUSHELL.

ALSO the draw for people who were left out of the first draw hasn't yet taken place but Argent is the winner.
REMEMBER this week's watchwords are PHONEYISM and TAXIDERMY, coming soon to a venue near YOU!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

SCANDAL!!!! It's ' Drawgate '

Not since Richard Nixon has the leader of a country made a more terrible blunder. In the recent draw of the century (conducted under laboratory conditions at a secret location in The Wicklow Hills) the name of Argent was possibly left out of the hat!

Shock Horror gasp!

Apologos to Argent, who has been a regular here, a real diamond through thick and thin, mainly thick.

I'm pretty sure that the name did go into the hat and I just left it off the list on my blog.But sure isnt certain , and if it ain't certain then it ain't good enough. This Republic was built on fair play and justice for all.Vociferous in it's condemnation of all things underhand and grubby, like Bertie Ahern's y fronts. Now I appear no better.

Impeachment is out of the questo but I think the only honourable thing I can do as King and president of the People's Lost Republic of EEjit, is to resign and let the people elect a new leader.

This I did 20 minutes ago and was duly re-elected, so well done me.

My first duty as the newly elected Presking is to hold a new draw with the names of all the people I left out of the first draw. So far these , in no particular order, are: Argent.

If anyone else has been left out of the previous draw please let me know.

THe prize unfortunately won't be Nuala's lovely book (I have only one copy, signed and everything I love it and I'm holding on to it) but this mystery consolation prize is still very nice and has a retail value of between eight and one hundred euro!

All claims for gross negligence in the first draw must be made to me by the stroke of Midnite tomorrow (Wed) nite!

This time there will be no mistakes and there WILL be video evidence to prove it.

In other news the Poetry Bus is back in town.The Monday machinations will begin again as soon as I have sorted out a mister Linky thing.(That's not a medical euphemism, but a blog widget )

Also reality has dawned that a quality glossy Poetry Bus antholgy is a (financial) non-starter.But fear not good people of the world , I have a cunning plan, we here at the castle will with our very own hands craft a Poetry Bus journal 3 times per year (funds from sales permitting).Who needs gloss? The poetry is the main thing, the design is the main thing ,the artwork is the main thing.It will be a handcrafted (or possibly shop printed) object of desire.

It's no good running before you can tie your shoelaces, so we'll start small and steady and see how it goes.If it fails ,feck it, sure we gave it a lash.

The wonderful ArtSparker has offered to do the illustrations for the magazine. Maybe it will become a collector's item, who knows?

Monday, February 1, 2010

Dominic's challenge

Dominic Rivron set us a piece of music to listen to and write to. (see details here ) I usually find music a great catalyst, he previously posted some Stockhausen that really affected me. Beyond cliche I couldn't get into this,I was at fault not the piece. I'm still locked in my own bubble that I thought had burst.Anyways here's something that by any other name might be 'a poem' or two

Ghost train

They’re escaping
Or returning by mistake
I’m lost thinking
Open mouthed hairy demons
My silence drowns
Church bells, graveyards.
This is Hammer Horror,
This is Fright Night
Hitchcock kitsch.
Rolling barrels
Jumping through hoops
never ending
I’m Waiting
Mist rising
fast trains passing
I’m waiting
looking through the dark
In anticipation of anxiety
too many trains
none stop
headless horsemen pass by.

Identity theft

hard shoulder
Broken down
Beaten up
Money stolen
Left for dead
Gravel grazed
Blood red
From who
I was.

Let the Draw of the Centuree beegin !!

Into the hat go ( in no particular order);







Debbie Harry









Boris Karloff





John the Baptist



James Cagney



Ronnie Corbett (literally into the hat)



John Terry

Tried a million times to upload video without success.Spent ages recording it.Totally pissed off now.Dell from hell nearly flung through the window.You can lead a computer to water but still the fucker won't do backstroke. Would dearly LOVE to drown it.Come the glorious day it will be number one (ok No 2) up against the wall.
The winners were Niamh B and Titus.