Attrition Ammunition

The West is now clearly insane,

It’s sending more shells to Ukraine.

Though the war is lost,

 Who cares of the cost?

It’s worth it to prolong the pain.

— D.N. O’Brien

NATO

𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗢

The Cold War ended — what a shame!

Now NATO had one chance for fame.

One chance to keep itself alive.

One chance for NATO to survive.

Its Raison D’être put to bed

It must expand or drop down dead,

And so it gazed unto the East

In that direction saw a feast —

Some nations who could join its pact,

And NATO of course honour lacked,

So Russia’s cries fell on deaf ears,

And NATO’s moves entrenched its fears.

Then NATO looked at the Ukraine,

Its oil, its coal, its fields of grain,

And said: “Come join us in our fold,

We promise greenbacks, graft and gold.”

But Putin said: “Forget it mate!

Ukraine will stay a neutral state

Or else we’ll blow it all to bits!”

Zelensky, scared out of his wits,

But quite safe in his acting role

Then said to NATO: “Bless my soul,

I think perhaps we should give in

For that would be the lesser sin.

I know this Putin pretty well,

He may just send us all to Hell!”

But NATO said: “Do as you’re told.

You’ll win an Oscar, maybe gold.

You’ll take out the Nobel Peace Prize —

Listen to us for we are wise.

We, NATO, will most surely win —

Fight to the last Ukrainian!

So you must now prepare for war

Train up the NAZIs at your core,

Though you of course are just a Jew,

A figure head — that’s nothing new.”

So after 7 years of war,

Putin no longer could ignore

His fellow Russians in Ukraine,

The thousands dead, their constant pain,

Zelensky sitting on his ass,

The rockets raining on Donbas.

And so at last, his patience lost,

And knowing, great the coming cost,

He gave the order to attack;

To stretch Ukraine upon the rack

Of bloody war, as NATO cheered,

As peace, the state that NATO feared,

Was then consigned to flaming Hell.

And o’er Ukraine the acrid smell

Of burning flesh suffused the air,

As NATO in its Western lair

Winked at its friends who make the guns;

And mothers grieved for slaughtered sons.

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐔𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞 / 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬

𝐔𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞 / 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚  𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬

Peter the Great

Was six feet eight.

.

Some say even longer,

And Russia stronger.

.

Zelensky may be a comic figure,

But even clowns can pull a trigger.

.

“Okay we’re neutral”, Zelensky said

And with three words he raised the dead.

.

Then Putin said: “About Donbas……

We’ll talk instead of kicking ass.”

.

Zelensky said: “You ask no more?”

Putin replied: “You’d rather war?”

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫

Tags

EU, NATO, Ukraine

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞  𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨  𝐎𝐮𝐫  𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫

Nothing may now be believed.

A web by the spiders is weaved,

And innocent flies

Are trapped by its lies;

And neighbouring spiders deceived.

— D.N. O’Brien

World War Zero

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Crimean War, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Triolet, World War Zero

(“The Crimean War is one of the bad jokes of history.” – Philip Guedalla)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝  𝐖𝐚𝐫  𝐙𝐞𝐫𝐨

The Ottoman Empire is in decline —

Six hundred thousand men prepare to die.

In Europe noble relatives sip wine —

The Ottoman Empire is in decline.

The nobles fear the Russians wish to dine

On Turkey — they’ll wage war on Nicolai.

The Ottoman Empire is in decline —

Six hundred thousand men prepare to die.

— D.N. O’Brien

Fools Rush In

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

Fools Rush In

Into the void now left, (for God is dead),

Flow swiftly, weird beliefs and strange ideas.

To fill the vacuumed space within each head,

Advance the cults and creeds of crazy seers;

Of Eastern mystics, deviants, and queers.

The ancient faith is now consigned to trash,

As rise once more the superstitious fears.

Cathedrals and their icons burn to ash,

As statues of old heroes fall and smash.

But history will warn — so it’s wiped clean,

And those who’d dare remind us feel the lash.

The frightened masses fear to intervene,

As evil men are uplifted and praised,

And massive monuments to madness raised.

— D.N. O’Brien

Brothers in Arms

Tags

Australian poet, Brothers in arms, Formal poetry, poem, poetry

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬  𝐢𝐧  𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐬

Dark and grim, as winter’s chill

Creeps through the barracks, cold and still,

Where in a dreary dingy room

Four men are gathered in the gloom;

And three, they cast disdainful eyes

Upon the fourth, as he denies

What they see plainly as his guilt;

The evidence of blood he’s spilt —

The scarlet stains upon his clothes,

His swollen hands — his broken nose.

For they have seen each gouge and gash;

Beneath his bed, the stolen cash.

And each has known the man he killed.

And each has known the heart he stilled.

When there’s no question of a doubt,

Swift justice must be carried out.

If not, the killer may walk free;

But judge and jury are the three,

And all are young and wise and strong,

And not a chance their judgement wrong.

And so a gallows is contrived,

Where stands the fighter who’s survived.

His sunken eyes, devoid of hope,

Gaze upward at the hanging rope;

For well he knows, his end is sure —

Condemned by that unwritten law:

That soldiers, since the dawn of time,

Enforce for that unholy crime

Of fratricide by gun or knife —

The taking of a brother’s life.

So the condemned bows to his fate;

For but a second has to wait;

Then crashes on the floor a chair,

And there beneath his feet — but air.

— D.N. O’Brien

A Reasonable God

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Devils by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Formal poetry, Friedrich Nietzsche, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

A Reasonable God

“So soon belief will end and leave a void;

A godless empty place”, the thinker said.

“When all the faiths that filled it are destroyed,

And all that they stood for is cold and dead.”

And so the writer, with a sense of dread,

Foretold how men would kill their deities.

Would have no need of them — their daily bread

Would still be theirs; there’d be no need to please

Imagined gods; to fall down on their knees

And pray to empty space; was science’s turn

To rule the minds of men. The poles would freeze;

The tides would rise and fall, the sun would burn;

No gods or their fair angels would be missed.

The new God, Science, would rule with an iron fist.

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡

Tags

Australian poet, Covid madness, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡

Keep us in strict isolation,

And block skeptical information.

Close our borders — lock tight!

But don’t turn out the light!

For we are the terrified nation.

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Civil War, Disunity, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝

It’s obvious; the split is now too wide.

There is no chance such gaping wounds can heal.

There is no common ground — a stark divide;

No compromise; no way to cut a deal.

But stay united for the common weal?

Forget it — that would surely end in woe.

A separation will a truth reveal —

That old one — all will reap but what they sow.

For one’s intent is high, the other’s low;

And nature’s laws suggest the first will win.

It’s time to end this endless to and fro;

The union must now take it on the chin.

The best outcome would be a swift divorce;

A civil war’s unthinkable of course.

— D.N. O’Brien