Hungary’s Right

Tags

Australian poet, Hungarian ban on Islamic immigrants, Hungary, Hungary under Islam, Islamic infiltration, islamic Terrorism, Islamization, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲’𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

The scourge of Islam Hungary well knows;
So Allah’s followers it will not take —
That river of humanity that flows
Into the European poisoned lake.
The freedom of its citizens at stake,
It tells the Western fools to go to Hell.
That their veiled threats and posturing won’t shake
Hungarian resolve — they know the smell
Of centralized control only too well.
They’ve learned from history — they know their past —
The cruel oppression after Buda fell.
They gaze on Germany and France aghast.
Hungarians won’t sacrifice their pride;
For it too many patriots have died.

— D.N. O’Brien

Someone Did Something

Tags

9/11, Australian poet, Formal poetry, Ilhan Omar, Islamic infiltration, islamic Terrorism, Islamization, poem, poetry, Political Correctness, Someone did something, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Twin Towers

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Did something happen on that fatal day?
Did someone do something? — apparently.
Are many much too scared to even say
Something was done by someone? — can this be?
Did not the whole world clearly hear and see
That something happened? — what? — a dreadful deed
Committed by a ruthless enemy?
Who was this someone then? Are all agreed
Upon this fiend’s identity? No need
For further proof? Of course it’s not required!
Mad men who love a mad fanatics’ creed
Did this. All sane men know the truth; they’re tired
Of those who would defend such evil scum —
Those who, within, beat on the traitor’s drum.

— D.N. O’Brien

Suffer the Little Children

Tags

Australian Jihadists, Australian poet, Children of Islamist terrorists, Formal poetry, ISIS, Islamic infiltration, Islamic State, Islamization, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, Nieveta, poem, poetry

𝐒𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧

What chance that these little Jihadies,
(The offspring of murderous baddies)
Now helpless and small,
No danger at all,
Grow up to be just like their daddies.

— D.N. O’Brien

Terrorist’s kids to come home

The (Very) Silent Majority

Tags

Australian poet, Formal poetry, Islam - Religion of Peace, Islam - the majority are peaceful, Islam in Australia, Islamic infiltration, Islamization, jihad, Jihadists, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Terrorist lone wolves

The (Very) Silent Majority

They are the great majority, we’re told;
No need to worry – they are on our side.
They’re all contented sheep within the fold;
No wolf amongst them wears a woolly hide.
And all the men who’ve made such claims have lied,
And still about these peaceful lambs they lie.
By all, such allegations are denied.
(Although there’s evidence one can’t deny.)
So innocents who walk the streets will die,
And few amongst this flock will say a word.
Their shrouded shepherds they will not defy;
They will not bleat – no protest will be heard.
They tell us they are all opposed to hate;
And yet, this virtue, seldom demonstrate.

𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝕰𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, England, Formal poetry, Islamization, Italian sonnet, Petrarchan sonnet, poem, poetry, Richard II, sonnet, This England, William Shakespeare

𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝕰𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉

This island that once ruled the seven seas.
This misty Eden with her wide-spanned moat.
This land of which the greatest poet wrote
The finest verses – she is on her knees.
The quislings genuflect, the Lords appease.
The foe they flatter, as they seek his vote.
Gone are the Princes and the Knights of note,
And to the gates the traitors have the keys.

Is there a cure for this infected Isle?
Is there a remedy? Unhappy men
Know but too well what is the fate of fools
Who turn a blind eye to the villain’s guile.
The gem’s within his grasp – no poet’s pen
Can help defend a house where weakness rules.

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

Welcome Home!

Tags

Australian poet, Holy Koran, ISIS, Islamic infiltration, islamic Terrorism, Islamization, jihad, Jihadi, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

The U.K. it welcomes you home!
The Middle East no more to roam.
Our home-grown Jihadis
Are heroes – not baddies;
The Holy Koran is our tome.

U.K. bans conservatives – welcomes back Jihadis

International Women’s Day

Tags

Australian poet, hypocrisy, International Women's Day, Islamization, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, Muslim oppression, Muslimah, poem, poetry

Today is I.W.D.,
But it seems no different to me.
There Muslimahs go,
All in black – head to toe;
Perhaps one day they’ll be set free.

Fear My Neighbour

Tags

Australian poet, Islamic infiltration, Islamization, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, poem, poetry

To his foreign god he is praying.
Strange values the fellow’s obeying –
Of morals and law,
And listen – what’s more,
I have no idea what he’s saying!

Midsummer Murders

Tags

"bastion of Englishness.", Australian poet, Brian True-May, British murder mysteries, Islamization, limerick, Limerick poem, Limerick poetry, Midsomer Murders, multiculturalism, poem, poetry, Political Correctness, Political Correctness takes over Midsomer Murders

Midsomer Murdered

Midsomer’s gone off – what’s to blame?
Well its plots are now PC and lame.
It’s inclusive, diverse,
And it’s false, but what’s worse –
It’s predictable – that’s the real shame.

Midsummer Murders

The scene: A hot day in Midsummer in midsummer – Midsummer police station – in walks DS Jones.

DS Jones: There’s been another murder sir – black guy killed up at Woody Wood.
DI Barnacle: Male person of colour Jones!
Jones: Male person of colour killed up at Woody Wood sir!
Barnacle: That’s better Jones – so where’s Woody Wood then?
Jones: It’s near the village of Piddling Puddleton sir – we’ve had dozens of murders near there in the past.
Barnacle: Piddling Puddleton hey? – rings a bell – let’s go then!

At the murder scene:

Barnacle: Any ideas Jones?
Jones: Well sir, that curved sword sticking out of his chest might have something to do with it , and that note pinned to it with: “Allahu Akbah – death to the infidel!” also seems to point in a certain direction.
Barnacle: By “curved sword” you mean the scimitar Jones, that’s its correct name. But ahh… how easy for the naive to fall into such a trap. No Jones, this is not the work of a crazed Jihadist but the evil deed of a white straight male…..a neo Nazi…..or perhaps two.
Jones: But there are only two white straight males in the village sir…oh…and me of course…and you.
Barnacle: Don’t jump to conclusions Jones…….
(clears throat) Yes, well, surely you know Jones, that white straight males are vastly overrepresented in our jails – that they commit crimes out of all proportion to their numbers?
Jones: Oh…I thought….
Barnacle: That’s your problem Jones – you think too much – let me do the thinking, after all I’m the one with the Psychology Degree and I’m the one married to the High School Principal.
Jones: Sorry sir – and how is your good wife?
Barnacle: My partner Jones, my partner………. is well – thanks for asking.

Scene: The Forensic lab – dead male person of colour on slab.

Indira Gupta – Senior Forensic Pathologist: Oh dear Oh dear! This male person of colour very dead I think!
Barnacle: Yes, we’d gathered that Indira, but any idea when this may have happened?
Senior Forensic Pathologist Indira: Probably when someone stuck that bloody big sword in him.
Barnacle: Thanks Indira, as usual you’ve been of enormous help – and by the way, thanks very much for the invitation to your 18th birthday party – my partner and I will be there.

Scene: Back at the police station.

Barnacle: Alright Jones – time for some good old-fashioned policing. We know who did it, but just for show I want you to door-knock the entire village – interview everyone, and before you ask, I have arranged for these 5 interpreters to go with you – off you go.

Scene: Sometime later at the police station.

Barnacle: So how did it go Jones? Got those two neo Nazi’s stitched up yet? Er……I mean, any leads?
Jones: Well not exactly sir. I interviewed the Vicar, Mohammed al Mazie and I have to admit he seemed a little nervous, although he has a water-tight alibi – he apparently stayed up all night with the local Imam – Fred Smith, and Fred verifies his story. Our Doctor Xie Che Nin also checks out – he was in bed with his husband Agumbo Limpopo the undertaker, so no luck there. The post mistress..
Barnacle: Jones!!
Jones: Ahh…Post person, and as you know, proud member of the endangered Pygmy Tribe the Shawtarses, also checks out, well according to the interpreter anyway, but I couldn’t understand a word she was saying. Had a bit of bad luck with the Mayor, Mohammad Javad Azarrrrrrrrrrrr though – he flew out to Teheran this morning, but I did check his office and ……….well, you know that collection of scimitars he has hanging on the wall?
Barnacle: Yessss….
Jones: Well one is missing…..
Barnacle: Oh come on Jones! Scimitars go missing all the time – this is England for god’s sake! Still you could be on to something……I’ve got it! Those 2 neo-Nazis stole the bloody thing and skewered the male person of colour with it! The case is wrapped up, and in record time too! Bring the bastards in Jones!
Jones: Ah….. but what about the Mayor – hasn’t he acted a bit suspiciously?
Barnacle: What old Azarrrrrrrrrrrr? How could you say such a thing Jones? He’s the salt of the earth. Why he’s a member of my club! Wouldn’t hurt a fly – now off you go and bring in the murderers……ah…….the accused.
Jones: Um…..just one thing before I go sir….something’s been bothering me….
Barnacle: Alright out with it man – I’m all ears.
Jones: Well sir, only 2 episodes ago when your cousin DI Bob Barnacle was in charge, villages like Piddling Puddleton were…well….not diverse…..ahh….pretty much white and pretty much straight you might say, but since he left, all the villages in Midsummer have become really diverse…overnight you might say….
Barnacle: So exactly what are you implying Jones?
Jones: Well to be blunt sir, we all know that villages in England are pretty much white, and pretty much straight, you know…. conservative, so you would think that our Midsummer villages wouldn’t be quite so diverse…that’s all.
Barnacle: You know Jones, I’m glad you brought this up. You’ve been here a long time and I’ve been having a talk with the script-writer about you and your future. You’re a good man Jones but you need a change, a sea-change you might say. Everybody agrees that, well, you just don’t quite fit in anymore. You need a fresh start.  How does the Shetland Islands sound?

The End.

Midsomer Madness