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

Demented Democracy?

Tags

democracy, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐲?

Democracy, a system often praised,

Assumes that those who vote are mostly sane.

But what if more than half of them are crazed?

Thus less than half, the sane ones that remain.

To whom would this minority complain?

To those who are elected by the ill?

What would such evil actors have to gain

By bending to a far-outnumbered will?

Democracy is not so hard to kill —

It dies, then comes a sick one party state.

The nation could be governed by a dill

To whom the crazy voters could relate —

Perhaps an old guy half way round the twist;

Could such a possibility exist?

— D.N. O’Brien

A Sonnet for Kamala

Tags

Kamala Harris, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

(Since I don’t think Joe can be kept alive for much longer)

(I recycled this from one I wrote for Hillary, but she let me down)

𝐀  𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭  𝐟𝐨𝐫  𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐚

A female President? – What could go wrong?
In government one has to compromise,
And we all know the fairer sex is strong
In that regard, and too, unlike the guys,
Gals hold no grudges and they tell no lies.
Logical, clear-headed, rational, and
Like Solomon, judicious, fair, and wise.
Male politicians, on the other hand,
Behave in ways no one can understand.
So with a female leader we can live.
A change for good is sweeping o’er the land.
We need a President with love to give.
Into the depths ancient suspicions hurl,
And give the highest office to a girl.

— D.N. O’Brien

A Visit From the Truth Police

Tags

Australian poet, Facebook fact checking, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet, Truth Police

𝐀 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞

A knock upon the door disturbs the peace:
“We know you’re in there sir, let us inside!
We are, perhaps you’ve guessed, the Truth Police,
And we have solid proof that you have lied.
A certain lie you posted has been spied
By our Fact-checkers — open up the door!
There is no place to run, no place to hide!
We have our orders to enforce the law,
And liars like you no way will we ignore!
Now let us in! You lying terrorist!”
(They bash the door down, throw me to the floor,
Put in the boot.) “Now we are really pissed!
We asked you nicely — you would not comply.
Now you’ll learn facts are fiction — that’s no lie.”

— D.N. O’Brien

Creating a Flashpoint

Tags

Australian poet, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭

We need an insurrection to suppress!
Then we can justify complete control.
Our aim is revolution friends, no less.
We need to paint their hero black as coal,
And hope that they’ll react — that is our goal —
We’ll then portray them as the enemy.
We’ve kicked Trump out, and now we’re on a roll,
We must destroy the bastards totally!
So here’s the plan — I’m sure you’ll all agree:
Destruction of The Donald may suffice
To get them rioting — we’ll wait and see —
And if it does they’ll pay a heavy price.
But should this not provoke these “faithful” sons,
We know what will — we’ll take away their guns.

— D.N. O’Brien

Death of a Giant

Tags

Australian poet, Decline of civilizations, Decline of empires, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, Rise and Fall, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭

You’ve had your time for basking in the sun,
But everything must die, even a giant.
Your face is pale — your race is almost run —
No longer are you fearless and defiant.
You once were dominant and self-reliant,
But now the dwarves have tied you to the ground.
You have become pathetic and compliant —
With bonds of your own making you are bound.
The dwarves all cheer — a little man is crowned —
He reads his speech — the writing’s on the wall.
His dwarfish slurring words declared profound
By all the dwarves who engineered your fall.
You breathe your last; the sky is dull and grey.
A scribe records: a giant has died this day.

— D.N. O’Brien

A Discarded Inauguration Day Sonnet

Tags

Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Formal poetry, Inauguration Day Poem, Joe Biden inauguration, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐀 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭

In praise of Joe this poem I have writ.
But I’ll not mention any of his flaws —
His hair-sniffing, his groping, all that shit;
His keen support for all those foreign wars.
I love him, for he’s opened many doors
For me, a budding poet laureate.
Oh I know old Joe farts — at times he snores;
But he’ll be dead before long — you can bet
Your house on that. Still, let us not regret
Selecting this frail, barely conscious guy
To lead our fast decaying nation — let
Him show the way as all the old ways die.

I’ll start again and throw this in the bin.
I’ll write some whiny waffle — that should win!

— D.N. O’Brien

A Giant Awakens

Tags

australia, Australia Day, Australian poet, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet

𝐀 𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐬

You slumbered in the south whilst all around,
The world closed in as daring men set sail.
Before long would your barren shores be found,
As eastward did the roaring forties wail.
These sailors and their nations, would prevail —
Your stone-age people would be swept aside;
Their ancient ways dispersed before the gale.
They’d built no walls to stop the rising tide;
Your moat was crossed; they had no place to hide.
And so did you awaken — and in fright!
As to the world your eyes were opened wide.
You rose from sleep — emerged into the light,
And saw the old ways were forever dead.
Your heart was filled with hope — and too with dread.

— D.N. O’Brien