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

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

49 BC

Tags

Ancient Rome, Brundisinium, Corfinium, Domitious, I'm a good ole rebel, Julius Caesar, poem, poetry, Pompey the Great, Rebellion, Rebels, Rubicon River, Song lyrics

(To the tune of “I’m a Good Ole Rebel”)

𝟒𝟗 𝐁𝐂

Was in the year of 49, on the eleventh day,

Caesar crossed the Rubicon to make the Senate pay.

Mounted on his charger, mounted proud and tall,

Came to the peninsular the conqueror of Gaul.

Leading but one legion, but soon so many more,

Caesar reached Corfinium to open up the war.

Unsheathed was every gladius, the javelins were loosed;

The army of Domitious by Caesar’s was reduced.

Came the victor Caesar, came the victor home.

Pompey and the senators all scurried south from Rome.

Caesar followed in pursuit, but in the end he failed,

For reaching Brundisinium he learned that they had sailed.

Off to Greece they headed, to fight another day.

Caesar headed westward and invested old Marseilles.

With ten loyal legions at his side, about to rule the seas —

Great Pompey would Julius soon bring unto his knees.

Caesar crossed the Rubicon way back in 49.

Caesar was a rebel, and the rebel crossed the line.

And Caesar was the victor for he waged war to the knife,

And Rome would he the rebel rule — til rebels took his life.

— D.N. O’Brien

After reading:

https://flammeusgladius.wordpress.com/2021/06/09/concise-guide-to-the-new-symbolism-of-the-damn-yankee-flag/

Iron Dome

Tags

Iron Dome, Israel, poem, poetry

𝗜𝗿𝗼𝗻  𝗗𝗼𝗺𝗲

The tiny state shows you the way,

Yet you unroll your mats and pray,

For holy men you must obey,

And fire your missiles every day.

Your holy men say they are wise —

These bolts will spell the state’s demise,

Yet to the heavens cast your eyes,

As rockets shatter in the skies.

— D.N. O’Brien

Asymmetrical Warfare

Tags

Asymmetrical Warfare, Guerrilla war, poem, poetry, Triolet, Unwinnable wars

𝐀𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥  𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞

The powerful complain that it’s not fair

When they are badly beaten by the weak.

When weaklings bring ignoble force to bear,

The powerful complain that it’s not fair.

The weak by any means may trap or snare;

By treachery and cunning havoc wreak.

The powerful complain that it’s not fair

When they are badly beaten by the weak.

— D.N. O’Brien

Crystal Clear

Tags

poem, poetry, Red China, Taiwan, Triolet

𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥  𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫

It’s clear as crystal, so cannot be seen —

Red China’s plan to take over the world.

They see no need to lay a thick smokescreen —

It’s clear as crystal, so cannot be seen.

A bitter and revengeful war machine —

On conquered isles their scarlet flag’s unfurled.

It’s clear as crystal, so cannot be seen —

Red China’s plan to take over the world.

— D.N. O’Brien

Battle Dress

Tags

Australian poet, poem, poetry, Trans soldiers, Trans women, Triolet

𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

Our general’s at the front charging the guns!
The Taliban are heading for the hills!
He hitches up his skirt — clenches his buns!
Our general’s at the front charging the guns!
His bra is binding — his mascara runs!
The Taliban are all preparing wills!
Our general’s at the front charging the guns!
The Taliban are heading for the hills!

— D.N. O’Brien

Alternative WW2 News

Tags

Australian Aboriginals, Australian poet, New Guinea Campaigns, Pacific War, poetry, World War 2

(What would have happened)

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐖𝐖𝟐 𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐬

In news, the Japs have taken The South Land!
The aboriginals put up no fight.
We’d left this wilderness of scrub and sand
Since its discovery, untouched; no hand
From the outside had guided it — each band
And tribe had been protected from the light.
In news, the Japs have taken The South Land!
The aboriginals put up no fight.

— D.N. O’Brien

The Invader

Tags

australia, Australia Day, Australian poet, Invasion Day, poem, poetry

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Invader you call him, this true native son?
When enemies threatened he took up the gun.
His father before him — his father before —
His father before him — they went off to war.

And there in lands foreign these fathers and sons,
They fought the invader — they silenced his guns.
Those men who lie buried far over the sea,
Those fathers and sons, died for you — and for me.

— D.N. O’Brien

Certa Cito

Tags

121 Signal Squadron, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, Gough Whitlam, poem, poetry, Royal Australian Signal Corps, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝑪𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂 𝑪𝒊𝒕𝒐

The plan is hatched by foolish faceless men.
The squadron’s fate by treachery is sealed.
The method and the why, the where, the when,
Is to the gathered malcontents revealed.
All that the patriotic have concealed
Will be exposed just when the time is right;
The squadron will be banished from the field —
Its troops will be destroyed without a fight —
All trace of it will fade into the night,
And none will mourn its swift and sure demise;
And on its fate no one will shine a light.
But those who filled its ranks — its ears and eyes,
Who served and sweated on that Asian Hill,
They know how easily mere words can kill.

— D.N. O’Brien