An Acceptable Diagnosis

Tags

Australian poet, Formal poetry, ISIS, islam, Islamic infiltration, islamic Terrorism, jihad, poem, poetry

An Acceptable Diagnosis

“Allahu Akbar”? – We’ve heard that before.
And “Jihad”? Oh yes, that’s Islam’s holy war.
But terror had nothing to do with your acts;
So listen while we explain some of the facts:
You say you’re a martyr – but that’s not the case.
The problem is that you are in a bad place.
You’re just a lone wolf who is missing his pack;
Your alienation, it made you attack.
If that’s not enough, there’s the other excuse –
That evil addiction – your substance abuse.
So it’s not religion – it’s all in your mind;
Here’s the diagnosis the doctors have signed.
They’ve heard your confession – they’ve studied your brain,
And they all agree that you’re merely insane.

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The Problematic Pachyderm

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Australian poet, Elephant in the room, Pachyderm, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Stupidity, Willful blindness

The Problematic Pachyderm

Ignore it! Just pretend that it’s not there!
That is a darkened corner of the room
Where it is not! Its presence we can’t bear!
For seeing it would surely spell our doom!
If you don’t wish to moulder in your tomb,
Don’t look in that direction! That is not
An elephant! A shadow in the gloom
Is all that is, you blind half-witted clot!
It looks like one? Oh what a load of rot!
Okay, it looks a bit like one, but hey!
It’s not! Don’t mention it – we’ll all be shot!
With luck, the bloody thing will go away –
The thing that isn’t there. Oh no!….we’re sunk!
What’s got big ears, is grey, and has a trunk?

Enemies

Tags

Armistice Day, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Bush Poetry, poem, poetry, World War 1, world wars

Enemies

Two farm boys leave their families – their farms;
For each thinks it is right to take up arms.
Two boys, so much alike yet now at odds;
They’ve worked the cattle – sown the tumbled sods,
And harvested the golden fields of grain.
They’ve cursed the floods, and prayed to God for rain.

But now across a blasted shell-ploughed field
They face each other, and one’s fate is sealed.
Had they been neighbours they’d have been best friends,
But such is war – and so the story ends:
Just for a moment one raises his head;
The other aims and fires and shoots him dead.

No Threat

Tags

Australian poet, ISIS, Islamic State, Islamic terror, Islamization, Jihadists, Melbourne terror attack, poem, poetry

No Threat

They argue: “What was his design?”
It wasn’t me, or one of mine.
That most are harmless – quite benign.
It wasn’t me, or one of mine.
It’s far away; I’d say I’m fine.
It wasn’t me, or one of mine.
I pour another glass of wine.
It wasn’t me or one of mine.

Melbourne Terror Attack

The Fraud’s Prayer

Tags

Australian poet, Communism, Gulag, poem, poetry, Political insanity, Radical Left, Totalitarianism

Our designated carer. Thou art insane.
Supreme Leader be thy name.
Thy International Commune come.
Thy will be done, in Gaia,
As in the Asylum.
Give us this day our daily organic, high-fibre bread,
And forgive us everything,
But forgive not the unbelievers.
And lead us not into rational thinking
But deliver us from logic,
For thine is the International Commune:
The Power of the prison and the Glory of the gulag.

Today’s Headlines

Tags

American Midterm Elections, Australian poet, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

Today’s Headlines

Fishermen run out of worms.
Boy sick – main suspects are germs.
Man kicks his dog.
Truck stuck in bog.
Americans vote in midterms.

Almost Forgot

Tags

Abortion, Australian poet, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

Almost Forgot

At last we have reached the last rung
On the ladder – go forth – go among
The people – proclaim:
“Bless the poor and the lame
And the weak! Oh….and murder your young.”

The Cup

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, Melbourne Cup, poem, poetry

The Cup

The cup is being run today.
It stops the nation, so they say.
We hardly need such an excuse
To make our bank accounts reduce,
But even so I say: “Have fun!
Cheer loudly at the starting gun!”
For Melbourne’s cup I’ll make a case –
Yes! Here’s my take on this great race:
A midget on a horse’s back
Will guide his nag around the track,
While women draped in finery
Drink grape juice from a winery,
And men all dressed up in fine suits
Get horseshit on their polished boots
While placing bets on horses who,
About their form, they’ve not a clue.
It’s anybody’s guess who’ll win –
Not watching is a mortal sin.
There won’t be much work done today,
We’re going to the cup – Hooray!

Tibbet’s Farm

Tags

Abandoned farms, Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Run-down farms

Tibbet’s Farm

We stroll together arm in arm
Down by the wreck of Tibbet’s farm.
At what we knew in better days,
My girl and I in sadness gaze:
The leaning stumps in crooked ranks,
The scattered timber, tumbled tanks,
The space where once there was a home,
The broken plough that tilled the loam,
The garden beds, all overgrown;
Where once were flowers, now weeds are sown.
And there amongst the tufts of grass,
The busted bricks and shards of glass,
A little plastic doll we spy,
With but one arm, and too, one eye.
A long-forgotten ruined toy.
A relic of a fleeting joy.
A girl once looked into its face –
What shadows linger in this place?
We listen – all is quiet and calm
Down by the wreck of Tibbet’s farm.

Chicken & Egg

Tags

Abortion, Abortion on demand, Australian poet, poem, poetry

By the hen and the cock was the fertile egg made.
It was then by the hen was the fertile egg laid.
Has the hen the sole right to crack open its shell
Long before the chick’s hatched? – Surely cocks count as well.