𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸-𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻! 𝗢𝗿?

Tags

Australian poet, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸-𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻! 𝗢𝗿?

Lock-down! Raise up the drawbridge, bolt the doors!

A tiny army marches from the East!

We’re in for the most virulent of wars —

A million billion casualties at least!

This microscopic foe expects to feast

Upon the huddled masses of the West.

But we will stay locked-down till he has ceased

His dirty depredations — till this pest

Has gone back to the oriental nest

Whence he did spring. Behind our walls we’ll hide,

A great and noble sacrifice! A test!

A dreadful siege, an enemy defied!

Alternatively, live — ignore distortions;

Remembering to take all due precautions.

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐔𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬

Tags

Australian poet, AZOV, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Russo / Ukraine war, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Zelensky

𝐔𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞’𝐬  𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬

Pariah of the past, but now transformed

Into the sweetest state that one could find.

The neo-Nazi nation is reformed,

Unrecognizable, one of a kind;

AZOV atrocities left far behind.

Yes it’s a miracle, this new Ukraine —

It’s now by those who loathed it wined and dined!

It is a mystery, one racks one’s brain

To come up with a theory to explain

How such a lump of shit became a jewel.

A noble Abel where was once a Cain!

What’s more, its leader who once played the fool,

The idiot, the joker, and the queer,

Is now the shining knight who knows no fear.

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐆𝐚𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞

Tags

Australian poet, Formal poetry, Nord Stream Pipeline, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐆𝐚𝐬  𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬  𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞  𝐭𝐨  𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭  𝐒𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞

It seems the pipeline blew itself to bits.

The Baltic Sea is a depressing place.

The pipeline basically just got the shits

With lying on the bottom with the plaice —

Another day of boredom could not face.

The gas cramping its bowels it could not vent,

For as it did, from Russia more would race,

And thus the pipeline’s dire predicament.

And so by an explosion it was rent,

And all accused the Russians — well of course!

While silent lay the pipeline, torn and bent

And lifeless, ruptured by internal force.

The U.S. did it? What a load of rot!

Relief came from a self-inflicted shot.

— D.N. O’Brien

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

Tags

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

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭  𝐟𝐨𝐫  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐔𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐧  𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧

His baby face is oh so innocent.

He is as honest as a boy could be.

Unlike the Russian thug, he isn’t bent,

And doesn’t poison people with his tea.

(Though some suspect he adds a little pee)

He always speaks the truth —he never lies.

How else could he now lead a land so free?

And all that talk of having Nazi ties,

Those swastikas reflected in his eyes,

ASOV Battalion murderers he leads,

Well all these accusations he denies —

The friendship of the West is all he needs.

We thought he was a funny harmless bloke,

But starting World War Three? That’s not a joke.

— D.N. O’Brien

Regime Change

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Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Putin, Russo / Ukraine war, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Ukraine, Vladimir Putin

𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐦𝐞  𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

It’s out! The truth is spoken by the West:

It’s not about the people of Ukraine!

The leaders of ‘Utopia’ confessed

(Though anyone possessing half a brain,

Who has the sense to get out of the rain,

Knows they don’t care for Ukraine’s sovereign rights.)

It’s all about regime change, I’ll explain:

It’s Putin who is squarely in their sights. 

It is for this their foolish proxy fights.

Putin holds back the poisoned Western tide

That sweeps across the world — dimming the lights.

The West wishes to have a puppet guide

Great Holy Russia to the wrecking yards,

And Putin, Nemesis, holds all the cards.

— D.N. O’Brien

Soledar Dreaming

Tags

Australian poet, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Russo / Ukraine war, Soledar, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Ukraine war

The town of salt, the fortress, is no more.

The Wagnerites have brought it to the ground.

The tipping point of this most bloody war

Is reached, as to the west the big guns pound

Retreating beaten men, not homeward bound,

But to a new graveyard, there to expire

And go to pieces, never to be found

Amongst the rotting fragments in the mire.

In Kyiv the thespian, unrivalled liar,

This hero of a West that’s lost its way,

Tastes of the meat he draws forth from the fire,

And in his thoughtlessness is heard to say:

 “I do believe it needs a little salt.”

The sleeping soldier wakens with a jolt.

— D.N. O’Brien

Cold War

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Australian poet, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Russo ? Ukraine War, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

The colours, yellow, blue, and white, and red,

Adorn the bodies lying in the snow.

The living, coloured so, pass by the dead

As onwards to uncertain fate they go.

The naked frosted trees, row after row,

Give little shelter as the last leaves fall.

The bitter cold it bites as chill winds blow.

A coat of ice clings to each shattered wall.

While into frozen rubble cold men crawl,

High in the safety of the sombre clouds  

Watch soulless robots, and the shots they call,

And blackness blows and cloaks white winter shrouds.

Comes night, when cold into each bone it seeps.

The soldier says once more his prayers, and sleeps.

— 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