• About

dnobrienpoetry

~ All Poetry Β© Dennis N. O'Brien, 2010 – 2019

dnobrienpoetry

Category Archives: War

Battle Dress

17 Wednesday Feb 2021

Posted by Dennis N. O'Brien in Satire, War

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

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

𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭π₯𝐞 πƒπ«πžπ¬π¬

Our general’s at the front charging the guns!
The Taliban are heading for the hills!
He hitches up his skirt β€” clenches his buns!
Our general’s at the front charging the guns!
His bra is binding β€” 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!

β€” D.N. O’Brien

Alternative WW2 News

05 Friday Feb 2021

Posted by Dennis N. O'Brien in Observation, War

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

(What would have happened)

𝐀π₯𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐒𝐯𝐞 π–π–πŸ 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 β€” 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.

β€” D.N. O’Brien

The Invader

27 Wednesday Jan 2021

Posted by Dennis N. O'Brien in Bush Poetry, War

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

π“π‘πž 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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

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

β€” D.N. O’Brien

Certa Cito

27 Sunday Dec 2020

Posted by Dennis N. O'Brien in Historical, Observation, Sonnet, War

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

π‘ͺ𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂 π‘ͺπ’Šπ’•π’

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 β€”
Its troops will be destroyed without a fight β€”
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 β€” its ears and eyes,
Who served and sweated on that Asian Hill,
They know how easily mere words can kill.

β€” D.N. O’Brien

A Killer

15 Tuesday Dec 2020

Posted by Dennis N. O'Brien in Observation, War

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Australian poet, poem, poetry

𝐀 𝐊𝐒π₯π₯𝐞𝐫

Two soldiers in an empty room.
One on his bed, a tale he read.

Bleak barracks, sombre like a tomb;
The second woke and quietly spoke:

β€œI feel this day a sense of doom,
For with a knife I took a life.”

The other answered in the gloom:
β€œThen I must know β€” a friend or foe?

I think a foe β€” that I’ll assume β€”
The one who fell β€” so all is well.”

And so did silence then resume;
But one, afraid, he clutched a blade.

β€” D.N. O’Brien

War Paint

09 Wednesday Dec 2020

Posted by Dennis N. O'Brien in Satire, War

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Australian poet, Australian SAS, poem, poetry, SAS, SAS accused of murder, SAS Regiment, taliban

π–πšπ« 𝐏𝐚𝐒𝐧𝐭

The SAS have fired upon the foe?
From now on they will only fire paint balls!
It’s rumoured by observers, don’t you know β€”
The SAS have fired upon the foe!
We’ll paint the Taliban from head to toe!
We may unearth another Picasso!
The SAS have fired upon the foe?
From now on they will only fire paint balls!

β€” D.N. O’Brien

Real Fear

04 Tuesday Aug 2020

Posted by Dennis N. O'Brien in Sonnet, War

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Australian poet, poem, poetry, sonnet

π‘πžπšπ₯ π…πžπšπ«

From the firmament do the dead men peer
At the world below with their long dead eyes;
At a crazy world they don’t recognize.
And the sounds of strife reach each ghostly ear,
From the crowd’s foul mouth that is twisted, queer,
And they see the smoke and the headline lies,
And the idiots who are now thought wise;
And the shades, they mutter: β€œThey know not fear.”

For these ghosts have been to the depths of Hell,
Braved the bayonet and the screaming shell.
Now they fix their gaze from beyond the sky,
And they see the truth β€”see the traitor’s lie.
Now see clearly what they have seen before:
Unmistakable are the winds of war.

β€” D.N. O’Brien

Pat

26 Sunday Jul 2020

Posted by Dennis N. O'Brien in Bush Poetry, Historical, War

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Australian bush poetry, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Shell shock, World War 2

Pat

To join his brothers he was keen.
In forty two at just nineteen,
With both he sallied of to war.
Though never under fire before,
Courage he showed, no lack of will,
But no rejoicing at the kill.
But then there rolled a hand grenade,
And with his life Pat almost paid.
Upon a stretcher he was placed.
With morphine were his veins then laced.
A brother’s hand upon each knee,
Pat asked: β€œWhat will become of me?”
β€œYou’ve scored a homer”, they replied;
But twice under the knife he died;
For fragments lay close to his heart β€”
Cold iron with which he’d never part.
Evacuated back to home,
Not buried under foreign loam,
He thought now of the future peace
When murderous war would wane and cease.
So back to health young Pat was nursed,
For by good fortune he was cursed.
Brought back to life when all but dead β€”
β€œYou’re fit to fight again.” they said.
Too much to ask of one so young,
Scarred by the blast and by the gun;
And in the morning he had fled.
A note his elder brother read:
β€œI’m sorry Noel, I’ve done my best,
I’ll wait this war out in the west.”
A tear ran down a weathered cheek;
Noel knew that Pat was far from weak,
So three words with a steady hand
He wrote: β€œBrother, I understand.”
The two boys fought three more campaigns;
Were members of the few remains.
They both returned in forty five,
And thus did all three boys survive.
Then Pat came back to pay his dues,
And to the state his honour lose;
But all three brothers then embraced,
For each had death in battle faced.
But Pat, the guilt bore all his life β€”
Cared for his mother, took no wife,
Trod the straight path, and bless his soul,
Revered his brothers, Ron and Noel,
Who kept his secret β€” his great shame β€”
They knew that he was not to blame.
And when he lay on his death bed,
A doctor turned to me and said:
β€œThose scars upon your uncle’s chest β€”
They’re battle scars, we all have guessed.”
β€œA hand grenade”, I then replied,
“It’s not the first time he has died.”

β€” D.N. O’Brien

Choke

17 Friday Jul 2020

Posted by Dennis N. O'Brien in Bush Poetry, Historical, Observation, War

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Australian 7th Division AIF, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, Kokoda Trail, New Guinea, Owen Stanley Campaign, poem, poetry

(I was just a kid when I met this man in the very early sixties. He and a mate had called into our farm to see my father β€” dad had been their platoon sergeant during the Owen Stanley Campaign (Kokoda Trail). Dad told us the story later or at least started to tell us before not being able to continue. He (the ex-soldier) had been in the prone position firing at the Japanese when a bullet had hit him between the eyes near the nose. Because of the position of his head the bullet had passed through his mouth and voice box and out the back of his neck narrowly missing his spinal column. The war was over for him but he made a good recovery apart from a pronounced speech difficulty. )

Choke

I met a man who should have been quite dead.
I listened hard to hear the words he said.
He had a scar between his pale blue eyes,
And one upon his neck, of greater size.

He was my father’s friend, he said: β€œG’day”;
But in a strange and strangled muffled way.
I saw a tear run down my father’s cheek;
It was some time before my dad could speak.

β€” D.N. O’Brien

(Flag raising ceremony after the capture of Kokoda November 1942. My father, Sgt Allen Noel O’Brien is amongst these men.)

Ares

24 Wednesday Jun 2020

Posted by Dennis N. O'Brien in Historical, War

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Ancient Greece, Ancient Greek Gods, Ares, Australian poet, God of War, Iliad, Mars, poem, poetry, Triolet

π€π«πžπ¬

The hated god was Ares, god of war;
For ancient Grecian parents loved their sons.
They perished on the battlefields, therefore,
The hated god was Ares, god of war.
Those ancient battlefields were strewn with gore,
And often Greek boys were the slaughtered ones.
The hated god was Ares, god of war.
For ancient Grecian parents loved their sons.

β€” D.N. O’Brien

← Older posts

This site contains original content held in copyright by Dennis N. O’Brien

MyFreeCopyright.com Registered & Protected

Blogroll

  • Alexander the Great
  • Aussie Bush Poet
  • Barbara Blakey Photography
  • Feis the App on Facebook
  • Feis the App Website
  • Flammeus Gladius
  • Random Bitches
  • The Bard on the Hill

Archives

  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • October 2013
  • September 2013
  • August 2013
  • July 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • March 2013
  • February 2013
  • January 2013
  • December 2012
  • September 2012
  • August 2012
  • June 2012
  • May 2012
  • April 2012
  • March 2012
  • February 2012
  • January 2012
  • December 2011
  • November 2011
  • October 2011
  • September 2011
  • August 2011

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,681 other followers

Categories

  • Bush Poetry
  • General
  • Historical
  • Humour
  • Nature
  • Observation
  • Sad Stories
  • Satire
  • Sonnet
  • Uncategorized
  • War

Recent Posts

  • 𝐍𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐒𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐬 (𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐒𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 π…πšπœπžπ›π¨π¨π€)
  • Battle Dress
  • What Bolsheviks?
  • Scat – a – Brains
  • The Healing Process

Top Posts & Pages

  • Resurrection: Ertugrul
  • Nigar Kalfa
  • The Dig Tree

Blog at WordPress.com.

Cancel

 
Loading Comments...
Comment
    ×
    Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
    To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy