Colonists

Tags

Ancient Greek colonies, Australian poet, Colonialism, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬

The first ones clustered round the central seas.
From city states the ancient Greeks they came.
On foreign shores they founded colonies,
And to each settlement they gave their name.
They set their sails to conquer and find fame,
To spread Hellenic culture to the Earth;
Barbarians they thought it right to tame,
For their crude ways they thought of lesser worth.
And so of colonies we see the birth —
Of how the thinkers sent abroad their thoughts.
Of how they sought Poseidon’s realms to girth.
These frogs around the ponds no doubt had warts;
But had the Greeks not spread their wisdom wide;
Before their birth — what wonders may have died?

— D.N. O’Brien

Innocent Issues

Tags

Abortion on demand, Australian poet, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Western Decline

Innocent Issues

When have we dropped as far as we can go?
When have we reached the bottom of the well?
When have the western nations sunk so low,
They can but rise, or else descend to Hell.
Is there a warning? Does there ring a bell?
No, but the signs are clear to open eyes —
The crimes committed and the burning smell
Of flesh that is our own, but never cries —
That bursts into the light and quickly dies.
Yet for this damned destruction do we weep?
Oh no, we cloak the crime with smiles and lies.
We gladly sow, then prematurely reap.
We pull from fertile earth the sprouting seeds,
And then discard them, as one would with weeds.

— D.N. O’Brien

Taboo

Tags

Ancient man, australian aboriginal, Australian Aboriginal laws, Australian bush poetry, Australian poet, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Stone age man, Taboo, totems and taboos, Tribal societies

Taboo

You ask me, how on earth did he survive
For many centuries? Well here’s a clue:
For more than needed, never did he strive.
His little wealth he carried, his needs few.
He stuck to the old ways and nothing new
Would he allow. So for thousands of years
He didn’t change — for change it was taboo.
Paralysis by superstitious fears —
This saved him. Round the fire at night wise seers
Would tell the dreamtime myths — his history,
Unquestioned by his trusting eyes and ears.
And thus did he remain fearful, not free.
Bound tight by rigid rules that would not bend,
His world would stay unchanged — else it would end.

— D.N. O’Brien

Invasion Day

Tags

Australia Day, Australia Day protests, Australian poet, Invasion Day, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐲

Again that loathsome day has rolled around,
And you strap on your armband black as night.
You’ll march upon the stolen sacred ground.
(And you may do this for it is your right.)
No storm-troopers will put your crowd to flight,
For the invader was enlightened man.
And you may prod him but he will not fight,
And neither will he seek to crush or ban.
And did he make mistakes? Well all men can.
But also he did good — so what instead?
Invaders mad and cruel? You seek to fan
Extinguished fire — the actors are long dead.
Yet you are bitter — shackled to the past.
While most give thanks, your flag flies at half mast.

— D.N. O’Brien

Fanatics

Tags

Australian poet, Communists, Fanatics, Far-left extremists, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

They are a product of the human mind.
No other mammal behaves in this way.
They’re fascinating — they’re a certain kind
Of animal — extremes their brains obey.
A modern madness? No it’s not, I’d say —
Fanatics drove the horrors of the past,
When revolutionaries got their way,
And flew their crimson colours from the mast.
They’re pessimists at heart, and hope they cast
Into the void — themselves, they hate the most.
It is their time; their numbers rising fast —
Paid parasites that must destroy the host.
They seek to take control, to force, to ban;
And tighten as they do, the chains on man.

— D.N. O’Brien

Great Britain Surfaces!

Tags

Australian poet, Boris Johnson, Jeremy Corbyn, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, UK Election Conservatives win, UK elections, UK Labour defeated

𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬!

In News — the sub “Great Britain” hasn’t sunk.
It was assumed that it and crew were lost.
It broke the surface with a clang and clunk,
And on uncertain seas it now is tossed.
It’s quite a mess, but at prodigious cost,
We’re told the poor old girl can be restored.
So many seas has proud “Great Britain” crossed,
With many captains — some of them were flawed;
But Captain Boris, (by his crew adored),
Now gives the islanders a wisp of hope.
At certain ships, in his fine harbours moored,
He peers intently through his periscope.
His weapons are intact — torpedoes armed,
Propeller spins, she moves — no more becalmed.

— D.N. O’Brien

The Batty ABC

Tags

ABC, ABC left bias, Australian Broadcasting Corporation, Australian poet, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗮𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝗔𝗕𝗖

The vampire that we call the ABC,
It sucks its life-blood from the public purse.
Its far-left propaganda isn’t free;
It costs a billion, and what is far worse,
It isn’t just the left that fund this curse,
For all of us give to this thirsty bat.
This Dracula in poor disguise we nurse,
And so the ABC grows sleek and fat,
And like a smug and condescending brat
It thinks it is untouchable, secure,
As all about it spreads its stinking scat —
Blights all it touches with its foul manure.
The ABC once was a source of light,
But now it’s just a pesky parasite.

— D.N. O’Brien

Leaving Gondwana

Tags

australia, Australian poet, Centrifugal Force, Continental Drift, Gondwana, Gondwanaland, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

Leaving Gondwana

Now all alone, north-east it slowly drifts.
Just inch by inch the mighty mass it slides.
An island of gigantic size — it shifts,
As on its shores now beat the timeless tides.
Upon a sea of molten rock it glides;
It slips — it’s driven by a starry force —
An engine that within its body hides,
Propelling it far from its primal source.
It journeys on a strange uncharted course,
Escaping from its motherland; its home
Now far behind, yet it feels no remorse —
Young continents, like children, tend to roam.
No trail it leaves; there is no wake to west.
It never tires, and never will it rest.

— D.N. O’Brien

Collect Your Thoughts

Tags

Australian poet, Bernie Sanders, Communism, Jeremy Corbyn, poem, poetry, Socialist Left, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Totalitarianism, UK elections, Useful idiots

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Collectivism doesn’t work my friends;
How many times do you have to be told?
When communists take over freedom ends,
As hope and truth are banished to the cold.
The powerful then gather up the gold,
And give a little to their useful fools.
And all the rest must do as they are told,
Including giving up the family jewels.
Old Bernie and J Corbyn are just tools
Used by their hidden masters to gain power —
String puppets, and the puppeteers are ghouls
Who pull upon their strings from ivory towers.
The left and communists share the same bed;
Beneath their green facades they all are red.

— D.N. O’Brien

A Universal Question

Tags

Agnosticism, Atheism, Australian poet, Creation of the Universe, God, poem, poetry, Science and the universe, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐀 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

We sit upon a whirling tilted sphere,
That hurtles through a vacuum at high speed.
And if you don’t think this is rather queer,
You are my friend, a strange fellow indeed.
The Sun (an atom bomb) it is agreed,
We circle once a year. A satellite,
The moon we call it — like a silver bead,
It shines upon us on a moonlit night.
The stars above on starry nights give light,
And shooting stars sometimes at night they fall,
And though they are to us a splendid sight,
They’re meteors — not really stars at all.
Who set in motion this great cosmic dance?
Or could it all have happened just by chance?

— D.N. O’Brien