To the Shining City

Tags

Australian Capital, Australian Capital Territory, Australian poet, Canberra, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

𝐓𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐢𝐭𝐲

To Canberra I’m heading — I’ve been told
To pack a coat, for it may well be cold.
I’ve sharpened up my old pick-axe,
And I’ll be filling lots of sacks —
In Canberra the streets are paved with gold!

— D.N. O’Brien

The Greta Gamble

Tags

Anthropogenic Climate Change scam, Australian poet, Child abuse, Child exploitation, Greta Thunberg, poem, poetry

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞

A miscalculation I’d say.
Exploiting young girls doesn’t pay.
The strain showed in her tortured face.
Poor Greta will weaken their case.

— D.N. O’Brien

The Coalmine Cat

Tags

Anthropogenic Climate Change scam, Australian poet, Canary in the coalmine, Coalmine canary, Greta Thunberg, poem, poetry

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭

{𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘢 𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘨}

Once an anti-coal canary,
In the gloom pulled faces scary.
Smiled, then grimaced, gave a frown,
From her perch fell upside down,
To the bottom of her cage.
(This bird should be on the stage).
There she lay asphyxiated.
(She was acting). With breath bated
Came a miner to remove her;
He with soft sounds sought to sooth her.
But she lay still and pretended
That coal-gas had her life ended.
So the miner sniffed the warm air
But no gas could he detect there.
Thus he knew the bird was lying —
She was acting — wasn’t dying.
So he called the coalmine cat.

And that was the end of that.

— D.N. O’Brien

Infidels

Tags

Australian poet, Formal poetry, islamic Terrorism, Nigerian Christian genocide, Nigerian Christians massacred, Nigerian Islamic terror, poem, poetry

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐬

They bury them under the sod.
Yet why is this not on the news?
They’re Christians — remember the Jews?
I see — they pray to the wrong god.

— D.N. O’Brien

Nigerian Christians Massacred

Postmodern Fluidity

Tags

Australian poet, Formal poetry, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry, Post modernism, Postmodern fluidity

All is fluid – no solidity.
All’s subjective and relative see.
There’s no truth and no lies —
All can be otherwise.
Some examples — see if you agree:

Moon Fluidity

That is not the moon – it is a ball,
An illusion – it’s not there at all.
It’s a suspended fruit.
It is not absolute.
It’s an egg balanced on a black wall.

Planet Fluidity

Earth, Venus, the blue planet Mars;
All are relative as are the stars.
Whether rocky or gas
They’re no fixed form or mass —
Same applies to those blinking pulsars.

Sun Fluidity

The Sun is a nuclear fire?
Of your absolutism I tire.
It’s not fixed — it can be
What you want — can’t you see? –
It may be logic’s funeral pyre.

Universe Fluidity

Anything you may think it to be
Is the universe — now let us see:
An expanding balloon,
A celestial tune
For a bass, played with due gravity.

— D.N. O’Brien

Sale! — Eva’s Underwear!

Tags

Adolf Hitler, Australian poet, Eva Braun, Eva Braun's underwear sale, poem, poetry

Sale! — Eva’s Underwear!

They’ve sold the pants of Eva Braun.
Her nightie too, (stained, slightly torn).
The underpants in good condition,
Free of burns from gas ignition,
Ready to some ass adorn.
(It’s claimed that they were seldom worn).

Eva’s knickers

Filling the Vacuum

Tags

Aristotle, Atheism, Australian poet, Baal, Formal poetry, Friedrich Nietzsche, God is Dead, Odin, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, The Gay Science, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Zeus

Filling the Vacuum

“God is dead.” So Nietzsche’s often quoted.
The atheists will say that’s what he said.
And he did, but it should too be noted
That Nietzsche said it with a sense of dread —
That we had killed Him — it was on our head
He laid the blame. And what, he asked, what thing
Replaces murdered gods, gods cold and dead?
The bells in church towers will no longer ring,
And all those hymns? Why will the choirs still sing
Of Him, when He no longer is of use?
A fallen deity, a banished king,
Devoid of power, like Baal, Odin, or Zeus.
And Nature does an empty space abhor —
Rush in, the gods of mammon and of war.

— D.N. O’Brien

A National Disgrace

Tags

Australian poet, Balkanization, Division, Formal poetry, Internationalism, multiculturalism, Nationalism, No borders policy, Open borders policy, poem, poetry, refugees, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Tribalism

A National Disgrace

Nations? Such a concept is outdated!
All borders on all maps must be erased.
Counter-views will not be tolerated.
No fences will be built, walls won’t be raised.
By multitudes our kindness will be praised —
By billions who are striving to be free
To flood our richer lands — they’ll be amazed
By all the wealth and beauty they will see.
From all their worn-out wastelands they will flee.
On our accumulated fat they’ll feed.
And with them they’ll bring war and anarchy.
Old hatreds will be nurtured, bloom, and breed.
There’ll be no nations — tribal ways again
Will triumph and bring misery to men.

— D.N. O’Brien

The Devil’s in the Detail

Tags

Australian poet, Crimean Tatar, Dialogue, islam, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry, Steak Tartare, Suicide bombers

The Devil’s in the Detail

Steak Tartare

The son of a Crimean Tatar,
He stuck dynamite in his garter,
And when it went boom!
It plastered the room
With raw minced up meat of a martyr.

An Honest Dialogue

One: You come from afar, what are your intentions?
The Other: To bring you down from within.

One: Why?
The Other: You are evil. You are an unbeliever.

One: Why am I evil?
The Other: You don’t believe, therefore you are evil.

One: But you clearly intend doing me harm. What if I don’t let you in?
The Other: That would be an evil act.

One: You intend to bring me down — isn’t that evil?
The Other: I am righteous.

One: The place you came from, afar, — were we there, were our roles reversed,
Would you let me in?
The Other: No, for you are evil.

One: But here, you use my goodwill against me?
The Other: Yes, for you are weak and naive.

One: So my weakness forces me, against my better judgement, to let you in?
The Other: You have not the courage to do what you should do — I despise you.

One: You would despise me less if I didn’t let you in?
The Other: Yes, but you would still be my sworn enemy — you are evil.

One: We must agree to disagree on that point.
The Other: I do not agree with the devil. I have told you why I am here — what will you do?

One: I will let you in! You more than qualify! — Hell is the first door on the left.

— D.N. O’Brien

Everlasting Quest

Tags

Ancient Persian Mythology, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, Huma Bird or Bird of Paradise, poem, poetry, Quest, Sufism, The bird with no feet

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

The bird with no feet makes its nest
In a cloud — there it pauses for rest,
And one egg does the little bird lay,
For one bird must replace it one day.
To just one, all its life, it gives birth;
To soar high — when it falls to the Earth.

— D.N. O’Brien

Quest