Bougainville

Tags

Arawa, Australian bush poetry, Australian traditional poetry, Bougainville Copper Limited, Bougainville Island, Bougainville War, Panguna, poem, poetry

So quick to strike are the seeds of war
And the harvest reaped is bitter.
An emerald jewel with a fatal flaw,
For a speck of hatred lay at its core
For the progress made and the rule of law
When the treasure had lost its glitter.

How many of you in your graves lie dead?
How many lives were shattered?
The coral sands now stained with red,
And the villages flaming as you fled
From the smothering smoke as your country bled –
To the four winds you were scattered.

The mine in the mountains gone to waste
And the towns where we lived all burned.
Repent at leisure for deeds in haste
For rebellion’s cup is with poison laced
As men go mad as your blood they taste
And too late is the lesson learned.

Where are you John, and Ambrose too?
Did you survive this madness?
And Bilou and Tioni, are they with you?
Tell me, who are left of our old crew?
Though I have asked, none said, none knew;
Seems all that’s left is sadness.

And what of the island I first saw
With the Crown Prince Range enshrouded
With cloud that turned to the smoke of war
As the future burned and the bullets tore –
Can it be plucked from the devil’s maw?
Is its fate forever clouded?

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Hector

Tags

Achilles, Anger of Achilles, Aphrodite, Apollo, Cypris, Death of Hector, Greek Mythology, Hector, Hector's body, Homer, Ilion, poem, poetry, Priam, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, The Iliad, Trojan War, Troy

Achilles’ anger was unquenched, and so,
Three times each day he dragged him through the dirt.
Yet he remained untarnished head to toe –
No bloodied flesh, no broken bones, no hurt
Showed on unblemished skin. Still and inert,
As if asleep, and no decay was seen.
It seemed by unseen armour he was girt,
For Cypris and Apollo kept him clean.
His wounds they’d closed, since, bloody and obscene,
His body had been taken from the field.
He’d fallen to the bronze so bright and keen,
Yet now the cuts that killed him were all healed.
Achilles longed to tear him limb from limb,
Whilst grieving Priam dreamed of burning him.

{Pic – The Triumph of Achilles by Franz von Matsch. {from Wikipedia}}

Vespasian

Tags

Augustus, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Caligula, Claudius, Galba, Nero, Otho, poem, poetry, Roman emperors, Tiberius, Vespasian, Vitellius

Augustus Caesar made the Empire great;
His rule was firm but not imperious.
For his successor Rome would have to wait,
But when he died, his stepson, old Tiberius,

Stepped up and for a while was somewhat fair –
Until Sejanus got the Emperor’s ear.
Soon he was smothered by his awful heir –
Caligula – a man all Rome would fear.

But when with stab-wounds he was duly riddled,
Poor Claudius tried hard to put things right.
As Rome was burning Emperor Nero fiddled;
The legions now were spoiling for a fight.

So Galba’s rise, it put an end to Nero,
As Nero with some help fell on his sword.
Then Galba fell to Otho – Rome’s new hero,
And Otho for a short time Rome adored;

Until Vitellius was crowned as Caesar;
Vitellius turned out to be bad news.
Next to be crowned was the Judea seizer;
Rose to the throne the conqueror of the Jews.

The Empire had endured the worst of men –
Vespasian would make Rome great again.

Australia Day

Tags

Australia Day, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, First fleet 1788, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

Australia Day! Come on! Let’s celebrate
Our liberty, our fairness, rule of law.
The qualities that made Australia great:
The sacrifice in theatres of war;
The mateship that is at our nation’s core.
Turn deaf ears to the ones who would divide.
These weak but wily worriers – ignore.
They’ll crawl under the nearest rock and hide,
And from their lair cheer on the darker side;
Just leave them to their wild imaginings.
We love this land that stretches far and wide.
We benefit from all that progress brings.
Had not those ships sailed in in ’88,
Would such success have been this island’s fate?

Shaggy Ridge

Tags

7th Div AIF, Battle of Shaggy Ridge, Bird of Paradise, Crater Hill, Finisterre Range, Green Sniper's Pimple, Japanese 78th Infantry Regiment, Japanese mountain gun, John's Knoll, Kankiryo Saddle, New Guinea, Ramu Valley Campaign, Surinam River New Guinea, The Pimple, Trevor's Knoll, World War 2

“The Pimple” was the name they gave
This blasted peak – this lofty grave.
I stand where kunai grass grows tall;
I’m careful lest I slip and fall.
How could men on this summit fight?
How could they scale this soaring height
Whilst from its top, from mountain guns,
Poured out the wrath of Nippon’s sons?

The jungle’s grown back on one side
And on the other old scars hide
Beneath the grass; it clothes the graves,
As with the wind it weeps and waves.
But in my mind armed men I see;
A soldier’s voice, it speaks to me –
My father’s words, the lost years bridge,
Here on the spine of Shaggy Ridge.

Five hundred Japanese sleep here
And fifty diggers slumber near.
I wonder – was it worth the price?
I spy a Bird of Paradise.

{In memory of the men of the 7th Division, Australian Imperial Force, and the Battle of Shaggy Ridge, October 1943, and of Allen Noel O’Brien Sgt 7th Div AIF}

Alexandros

Tags

Alexander the Great, Alexandros, Australian traditional poetry, Death of Patroklas, Ecbatana, Formal poetry, Hepheistion, Patroklas, poem, poetry, Spenserian sonnet, The Illiad, Trojan War, Troy

The clouds obscure the sun in Babylon.
The young king lies grief-stricken on his bed.
His loyal friend, great general, is gone;
Hepheistion the warrior is dead.
The man who filled the Persian hordes with dread;
Cut down by fever – not by spear or bow.
No scimitar had slashed – no wound had bled.
No weapon, by man wielded, brought him low.
No armour bright, or shield, could foil a foe
That steals men’s lives unseen – a cunning thief.
But all these tears? Grave doubts take root and grow.
Why so unseemly is this show of grief?
You ask why? He’s Achilleus reborn!
And thus Patroklas he must duly mourn.

The Greek Mercenaries

Tags

Alexander the Great, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Battle of the Granicus River, Greek Mercenaries, poem, poetry

In ranks they stood and made no sound;
The Persians were all dead –
The ones who chose to hold their ground;
The others had all fled.

For traitor’s lives nobody cared;
Dispatched they were to graves.
The few miraculously spared,
In chains they went as slaves.

Their masters promised gold and bread;
Their loyalty bought for loot.
Now harnessed to a plough or dead,
They’re paid in bitter fruit.

Alexander

Tags

Alexander the Great

My attempt at covering Alexander’s conquests in verse – finished for now, but a work in progress.

Alexander

Vercingetorix

Tags

Ancient Rome, australia traditional poetry, australian formal poetry, Battle of Alesia, Battle of Gergovia, Formal poetry, Gallic Tribes, Gaul, Julius Caesar, Roman Triumph, Vercingetorix

Armed with spear and bow and sword,
So advanced the Gallic horde.
At Gergovia struck a blow;
Laid the Roman legions low.
At Alesia – fortified,
There the legions, they defied;
But besieged by Roman might,
Weakened, they gave up the fight.
Vercingetorix the bold,
On his horse adorned with gold,
Swiftly then to Caesar went;
Rode a circle round his tent,
Then dismounted at his feet,
Flung his armour, took his seat
On now uncontested ground;
Looked to Caesar, made no sound.
So to Rome he was conveyed;
In captivity he stayed.
Soon, said Caesar: “While he lives,
To the tribes, false hope he gives.
He, to Rome, no loyalty feigns,
At my Triumph, bound in chains,
Let this King, to all the Gauls,
Show how low their saviour falls;
Then to foil his Gallic tricks,
Strangle, Vercingetorix.

City States

Tags

Ancient Greek City States, Australian poet, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry, US Sanctuary cities

You wish to be like ancient Greece?
No? Then all this madness must cease.
Your differences bury;
Give no sanctuary
To aliens, if you want peace.

Sanctuary cities