Cancel Culture

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Australian poet, Cancel Culture, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞

I’m hoping to be cancelled — that’s my dream;
For cancelled versifiers are the cream.
I’m trying so hard to offend;
When will I meet my “cancelled” end?
I’ll take a cancellation for the team!

— D.N. O’Brien

Feelings

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Australian poet, Emotional fragility, Feelings, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Triolet

𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

You’ve empathy for them? Hey man that’s great!
But don’t let fragile feelings take the wheel —
Between fiction and fact discriminate.
You’ve empathy for them? Hey man that’s great!
But best reality you contemplate,
For reason keeps one on an even keel.
You’ve empathy for them? Hey man that’s great!
But don’t let fragile feelings take the wheel.

— D.N. O’Brien

Pat

Tags

Australian bush poetry, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Shell shock, World War 2

Pat

To join his brothers he was keen.
In forty two at just nineteen,
With both he sallied of to war.
Though never under fire before,
Courage he showed, no lack of will,
But no rejoicing at the kill.
But then there rolled a hand grenade,
And with his life Pat almost paid.
Upon a stretcher he was placed.
With morphine were his veins then laced.
A brother’s hand upon each knee,
Pat asked: “What will become of me?”
“You’ve scored a homer”, they replied;
But twice under the knife he died;
For fragments lay close to his heart —
Cold iron with which he’d never part.
Evacuated back to home,
Not buried under foreign loam,
He thought now of the future peace
When murderous war would wane and cease.
So back to health young Pat was nursed,
For by good fortune he was cursed.
Brought back to life when all but dead —
“You’re fit to fight again.” they said.
Too much to ask of one so young,
Scarred by the blast and by the gun;
And in the morning he had fled.
A note his elder brother read:
“I’m sorry Noel, I’ve done my best,
I’ll wait this war out in the west.”
A tear ran down a weathered cheek;
Noel knew that Pat was far from weak,
So three words with a steady hand
He wrote: “Brother, I understand.”
The two boys fought three more campaigns;
Were members of the few remains.
They both returned in forty five,
And thus did all three boys survive.
Then Pat came back to pay his dues,
And to the state his honour lose;
But all three brothers then embraced,
For each had death in battle faced.
But Pat, the guilt bore all his life —
Cared for his mother, took no wife,
Trod the straight path, and bless his soul,
Revered his brothers, Ron and Noel,
Who kept his secret — his great shame —
They knew that he was not to blame.
And when he lay on his death bed,
A doctor turned to me and said:
“Those scars upon your uncle’s chest —
They’re battle scars, we all have guessed.”
“A hand grenade”, I then replied,
“It’s not the first time he has died.”

— D.N. O’Brien

Chairman Dan

Tags

Australian poet, Chairman Dan, Dan Andrews links to Communist China, Dan Andrews Premier of Victoria, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry, Victoriastan

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐧

Here’s a tribute to brave Chairman Dan;
He’s the pride of Victoriastan.
Call him: “Boof Head! Jug Ears!” —
He’s immune to all smears!
He’s our leader! Our hero! Our man!

— D.N. O’Brien

Thinking Nice Thoughts

Tags

Anti-depressants, Australian poet, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

I’ve started thinking nice thoughts every day,
And magically the world’s a better place.
All existential threats have gone away.
No longer are there any foes to face.
I’ve thrown away my nunchuks and my mace.
My rifles I have flung into my lake
With all my ammunition — every case.
It’s so easy to do, a piece of cake!
Nice thoughts are all you need, make no mistake!
They’ll make your wordly worries disappear!
No longer do my limbs begin to shake
When I see scary things — I have no fear!
(These pills the doctor gave me work so well,
I think I’d be exuberant in Hell!)

— D.N. O’Brien

Keeping Safe

Tags

Australian poet, castle keep, Covid-19 lock-down, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Triolet

𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞

The enemy has breached our flimsy walls!
Don’t worry we are locked up in the keep.
From high above a startled sentry calls:
The enemy has breached our flimsy walls!
(And unlike us the enemy has balls.)
Our minders tell us to go back to sleep.
The enemy has breached our flimsy walls!
Don’t worry we are locked up in the keep.

— D.N. O’Brien

Muzzled

Tags

Australian poet, Covid-19 lock-down, Face masks, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry, Virus masks

𝐌𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞𝐝

He’s wearing a mask — what a sight!
Oh yes! He is muzzled alright.
I can’t see his teeth!
They’re hidden! Good grief!
How loudly he barks! Will he bite?

— D.N. O’Brien

Choke

Tags

Australian 7th Division AIF, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, Kokoda Trail, New Guinea, Owen Stanley Campaign, poem, poetry

(I was just a kid when I met this man in the very early sixties. He and a mate had called into our farm to see my father — dad had been their platoon sergeant during the Owen Stanley Campaign (Kokoda Trail). Dad told us the story later or at least started to tell us before not being able to continue. He (the ex-soldier) had been in the prone position firing at the Japanese when a bullet had hit him between the eyes near the nose. Because of the position of his head the bullet had passed through his mouth and voice box and out the back of his neck narrowly missing his spinal column. The war was over for him but he made a good recovery apart from a pronounced speech difficulty. )

Choke

I met a man who should have been quite dead.
I listened hard to hear the words he said.
He had a scar between his pale blue eyes,
And one upon his neck, of greater size.

He was my father’s friend, he said: “G’day”;
But in a strange and strangled muffled way.
I saw a tear run down my father’s cheek;
It was some time before my dad could speak.

— D.N. O’Brien

(Flag raising ceremony after the capture of Kokoda November 1942. My father, Sgt Allen Noel O’Brien is amongst these men.)

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒗𝒆

Tags

Australian poet, Covid-19 lock-down, poem, poetry, Virus waves

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒗𝒆

It is an undisputed law —
Waves roll forever to the shore.
And should one manage one to stave,
There follows soon another wave.
And where the ocean meets the land,
The waves will crash upon the sand;
Unfaltering they will attack,
And none but fools would hold them back —
Would labour to turn back the sea;
Would waste their foolish energy.

— D.N. O’Brien

Just Buying Time

Tags

Australian poet, Covid-19 lock-down, poem, poetry, Rhyming couplets

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐮𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

The debt pit isn’t bottomless and so,
The virus waits till they run out of dough.

— D.N. O’Brien