Early Years of the Archidamian War

Tags

Ancient Greece, Athenian walls, Athens, Attica, Australian poet, Corona virus crisis, 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐫, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Sparta, Spartans, The Peloponnesian War, Wuhan Virus

𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐫

The Spartans stone the walls and shout:
“Athenians, come fight! Come out!
We raise no walls; we fear no foes,
And our contempt for you, it grows!”

Athenians are in lock-down.
They singly stroll about the town.
They hear the Spartans call outside.
Behind their walls they safely hide.

The blackened ground no longer yields,
As Spartans burn Athenian fields.
The silver and the gold run out.
Athenians begin to doubt.

These are the early years of war.
There are much crueler years in store.
The Spartans very soon take wing;
But they’ll be marching back in spring.

— D.N. O’Brien

Nigar Kalfa

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Australian poet, Magnificent Century, Nigar Hatun, Nigar Kalfa, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Suleiman the Magnificent, Turkish TV series

𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝑲𝒂𝒍𝒇𝒂

Controller of the Sultan’s concubines
Is Nigar Kalfa, Macedonian slave.
But for the unattainable she pines;
For Ibrahim, Grand Vizier, the brave.
But whispered is the lie that he’s a knave,
And soon his hopes great Suleiman will wreck —
His body buried in an unmarked grave,
A twisted cord around his loyal neck.
By terror are all subjects kept in check,
So Nigar far from Istanbul must flee.
With babe in arms through forests she must trek.
Soon she is trapped, and sets the baby free.
She spreads her arms and to her death she falls;
And from a hidden grave a spirit calls.

— D.N. O’Brien

Late Empire

Tags

Australian poet, Decline of civilizations, End of Empire, Fall of the Roman Empire, poem, poetry, Western Civilization

Barbarians borders encircle.
The people return Mrs Merkle.
Everything’s blamed on the Russians.
(As once it was blamed on the Prussians.)
Great generals are now all dead;
Weak worriers stand in their stead.
The brave replaced by anti-heroes.
Bad emperors fiddle like Neros.
And art goes from awful to worse.
The Empire’s awash with free verse.
The media are all insane.
The language is beyond profane.
The Empire is seeded with spies.
The truth is no different to lies.
The legions are filled with the foe.
The cold winds of fate start to blow.
It’s clear that it’s lasted too long.
The feeble give way to the strong.
A virus comes out of nowhere;
The people are too sick to care.
Barbarians, unsportsmanlike,
Deliver a preemptive strike.

— D.N. O’Brien

Viral Response # 1

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Australian poet, Corona Virus, poem, poetry, Rhyming couplets

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞 # 𝟏

It seems we are now on a footing of war.
But without the bullets, the bombs and the gore.

Stay 6 feet apart or you’re bound to get sick.
Obey, or I’ll prod you with my stasi stick!

If you’re feeling crook then stay isolated.
We’ll pay you to shelter safe under your bed.

As fast as we can we are printing new money.
You’ll soon have that paper you need for the dunny.

The feminine triumphs, the masculine falls.
It seems that our leaders no longer have balls.

— D.N. O’Brien

Don Trump

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Australian poet, Corona Virus, G.K. Chesterton, Hubei China, Lepanto, poem, poetry, Wuhan China, Wuhan Virus

𝐃𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐩

{With apologies to G.K. Chesterton}

Dull day dawning in the markets of Hubei.
The word is out that they have closed;
The word is but a lie.
The cages hold the civet cats, the snakes spit with forked tongues,
And in the soup are floating bats with microbes in their lungs.
The mice for mince, the rabid rats, the feral frogs ferment;
The viruses invisible, they coat the wet cement.
And they’ve been warned and they’ve been warned, and they’ve been warned before,
And Don Trump of over-there is tired of blood and gore.
A threat to all the kingdom, and a threat he can’t ignore,
And Don Trump of over-there is settling a score.
They’re poisoning the innocent — they’re poisoning the poor,
And Don Trump of over-there is marching off to war.

— D.N. O’Brien

An Unisolated Few

Tags

Australian poet, Corona virus shut-down, poem, poetry

𝐀𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐰

While speech is still free I’d make one observation:
The measures now taken will damage the nation.

To en masse retreat from a challenging sea,
It seems that the corsairs — the captains, agree.
Their sailors to cower and cringe in their caves,
While headway is made by a few galley slaves
Who’ll take to the oars, row, and breast the foul waves.

— D.N. O’Brien

{dedicated to the workers who keep on keeping on}

Salty Bears & Bulls

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Australian poet, Bulls and Bears, Corona share market crash, Corona virus crisis, Corsair, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

𝗦𝗮𝗹𝘁𝘆 𝗕𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 & 𝗕𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘀

For the moment, the system has failed.
And the bashed and the beaten have bailed.
They have sold and have fled,
So their chances are dead.
They are sailors whose last ship has sailed.

Now the ones who have bought all their shares,
They think more like the bulls than the bears.
And the sailed ships they crew,
For this barmy brave few
Are more like medieval corsairs.

— D.N. O’Brien

Last Day

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Australian poet, Carona virus stock market crash, GFC stock market crash, poem, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Stock market crashes

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐲

Stunned silence as begins the final fall.
It is the last day of the fatal crash.
The players huddle, backs against the wall.
Their energy is spent; they’re out of cash;
Yet all they’ve bought is now but smoking ash.
They watch the screens light up; each shakes his head.
The plunging numbers redden like a rash.
They stare, incredulous, their eyes like lead.
Their tongues are stilled and not a word is said,
But each is thinking — how can this be so?
Is this the final rattle? Is it dead?
Then comes another sickening body-blow.
No doubt the worst that some have ever seen;
Tomorrow, slow, will swell a tide of green.

— D.N. O’Brien

The Virus from Nowhere

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Australian poet, Corona Virus, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry, Political Correctness, Wuhan Virus

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗩𝗶𝗿𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗡𝗼𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲

A bug from nowhere makes one sneeze,
And sniffle and whimper and wheeze,
And snuffle and snort;
A foreign import —
It comes from nowhere, overseas.

— D.N. O’Brien

Wuhan Corona Virus

Lingchi

Tags

Australian poet, Death by one thousand cuts, Execution, Lingchi, Methods of execution, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐜𝐡𝐢

Teach what we know as right to now be wrong.
Remove the rights of those who are unborn.
Replace with the weak-willed, the good and strong,
And all that’s sacred vilify and scorn.
(Make sure to silence those who seek to warn.)
Corrupt the clergy and brainwash the young.
(The very young must have access to porn.)
Rule that the grand all songs must not be sung.
Encourage tribes — discard the common tongue.
Discourage all productive industry —
Make ladders it must climb — break every rung.
Damn enterprise — ensure that it’s not free.

The blood flows freely, and the nation tires;
But keep on cutting until it expires.

“Lingchi” or Death by a Thousand Cuts was not banned in China until 1905. It was of course an Asian invention and was also practised by the Vietnamese. It was a method of execution designed to inflict maximum pain and suffering before eventual death. There were variations, but the practice basically involved tying the victim to a wooden frame and inflicting a cut followed by another cut a short time later and then another and another and so on until the victim died.
While each cut was no doubt painful and serious it was by no means fatal, and it was only the incremental summation of pain and bleeding of a multitude of cuts that eventually weakened and then killed the victim.

This torture/execution is analogous to what is happening to western nations. Almost on a daily basis we hear of some new law, rule, tax, levy, regulation, woke social imperative, supposedly justifiable discriminatory action based on race or sex, support for abortion of the innocent unborn, ridiculous workplace health and safety requirement, environmental restriction, mad school curriculum, rewriting or erasure of history that doesn’t fit the narrative, attack on the legitimacy of the nation — the list goes on and on. Each one of these is an insidious cut and each one has a cost, social or cash, immediate or delayed; but the cost of each cut by itself goes largely unnoticed. These costs inexorably build however and gradually erode and undermine the nation’s structure — gradually sap its strength, divide its people, and weaken its character. Wealth dwindles and health (mental and physical) deteriorates. The end is always the same — If not taken down from the gallows and seen to before terminal damage is inflicted — the victim dies.

— D.N. O’Brien