𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭

Tags

AUKUS alliance, Australian poet, Formal poetry, Neutral Australia, poem, poetry

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭

Forget them all — they’ve gone to Hell.

Old cherished friends? They’ve gone as well.

Forget alliances with fools

Who’ve broken all the golden rules.

Forget old comrades, they are dead.

Forget the past, and all they said.

Cut off the chains — lest pull us down

These pirates when their galleys drown.

Yes, free us from the deathly grip

Of foreign armour, plane, and ship.

We’ve paid the price for their mistakes;

Cast off these phonies — they are fakes!

They are not what they were before:

They talk of peace, but whisper: “war”.

Trust not in liars — trust our sea;

Prepare for our neutrality.

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Tags

Australian poet, First Nations, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Triolet

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭  𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

First Nations? So how were these states defined?

By boundaries, by government, by laws?

By hordes and bands and tribes all intertwined?

First Nations? So how were these states defined?

By armies forcefully? By treaties signed?

By victories hard-won in bloody wars?

 First Nations? So how were these states defined?

By boundaries, by government, by laws?

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬

Tags

Australian poet, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Soviet Union

𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬

The Soviets destroyed nobility.

The savages rose up to take control —

Harnessed the rest to serve futility;

And twenty million was the final toll.

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫…….?

Tags

Albo - Anthony Abanese Australian PM, Australian poet, Drag Queens in schools, Formal poetry, National Disability Insurance Scheme, poem, poetry

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡  𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐅𝐨𝐫…….?

We’re fighting for the bastards bound for Hell.

We’re fighting for the drones who cannot spell.

We’re fighting for the men who’ll never work.

We’ll fight as hard as we once fought the Turk.

The N.D.I.S.? Yes we’ll fight for that!

We’ll fight for every filthy scheming rat!

We’ll fight for gay parades in Sydney Town!

(Where Albo should have worn a pretty gown…)

We’ll fight so that our kids can hug drag queens,

And so they can watch pornographic scenes.

We’ll fight for those who rewrite history,

But fight against religious mystery.

We’ll fight with enemies, against our friends.

We’ll fight against what’s right — until it ends.

We’ll heed the call, and off to war we’ll go,

To fight for all the things that bring us low.

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

Tags

Australian poet, Formal poetry, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, Nord Stream Pipeline, Occam's Razor, poem, poetry

𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

Confused by the spin and the lies?

You’ll find Occam’s Razor applies:

Look at motive and means.

Look at who spilled the beans.

Then it’s simple: the Yanks did it guys.

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥

Tags

Australian poet, Formal poetry, Nord Stream Pipeline, poem, poetry, Triolet, U.S. blows up Nordstream gas pipeline

𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥

The Swedes know who blew up the gas pipeline.

But who it was, the Swedes they cannot say.

But having dived into the Baltic brine,

The Swedes know who blew up the gas pipeline.

Of them spilling the beans there is no sign —

They’re hoping that it all just goes away.

The Swedes know who blew up the gas pipeline.

But who it was, the Swedes they cannot say.

— D.N. O’Brien

It’s God’s Truth

Tags

Australian poet, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Western Decline

𝗜𝘁’𝘀  𝗚𝗼𝗱’𝘀  𝗧𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗵

I went unto the playing fields to check upon our youth.

I went and saw the conquered and I uttered quietly: “Struth!”

I searched in vain for brave young men; I searched but few could see.

I watched the heroes of each sport go down upon one knee.

I listened to the commentariat, their words so barmy.

I came back home and wrote this down: “We couldn’t raise an army”.

— 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

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

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