Category Archives: Poetry

Trust House Terrorists – Heart of the Darklands

This poem that could see me / homeless in the street
For standing up to neo-liberals / crushing poor beneath their feet

They wrap themselves in charity / to cover what they do
Take from the poor, give to the rich / persecute us, not you

Rich and powerful love to build / monuments to their greed
Extravagant sports and arts supporters / and crumbs for those in need

When there’s a housing crisis / they buy a pub or two
Give more to corporate welfare / help fund a giant screw

A hockey turf, a rugby ground / a running track and more
Build a home for businesses / while people knock at their door

Trust House terrorists surround themselves / with the luxuries of life
They’ve never lived for years on end / under the neo-liberal knife

My heart bleeds for the things I see / that nobody will admit
Those that say we should trust / leaders who are not fit

You’ve been radicalised, you’re ignorant / propaganda tells you what to think
While after 30 yrs of this hell / those suffering are on the brink

Disabled poor and abused / cry themselves to sleep
Hoping they will die soon / knowing God their soul will keep

There is no hope in this tragic place / no safety net, not here
Death Valley, Wairarapa / heart of the darklands and of fear

enD

We Are – Carterton, Wairarapa

We’re sick and can’t see a doctor
We’re sad and no help they send
We’re suicidal and wish we were dead
Cause this nightmare never ends

We’re refugees in our own country
We’re drugged when we can’t cope
We’re abused for being traumatised
Neo-liberals leave poor no hope

We’re marginalised and terrorised
We’re blamed for social ills
We’re persecuted and prosecuted
As the morgue and prison fills

enD

 

Ode To John Key – by New Zealand’s Guerrilla Poet

This is my political comment about Mr Key resigning and what he achieved.

ODE TO JOHN KEY

I want to eat and Vomit
Fill the gaping hole then spew
Created by those nameless people
John Key paid to reject you

I want to slit my throat
Watch the blood seep from within
Put a gun in my mouth
Shoot myself in front of them

Walk in front of a city bus
Feel the impact of the steel
End this life, this hell on earth
Be driven over by the wheels

Because they are cruel and heartless
For you they do not care
They just smile or show no emotion
Then quickly get you out of there

They threaten you the police will come
Strip your clothes and dignity
Will punish you for seeking justice
Take away your liberty

enD

 

You’ve Driven Me To Swear

You’ve driven me to swear
Driven me and others to despair
You allowed the govt to not care
Torture degrade, create hate and fear

You’ve driven me to hate
Left me writhing at hell’s gate
Told me there I must wait
Want heaven’s door to be my fate

You’ve driven me insane
In your class war fucking game
They do the wrong, I take the blame
Your heads you should hang in shame

You’ve driven me to drink
To numb the pain so I don’t think
About Keys policies that truly stink
And their increasing NAZI link

You’ve driven me to yell
Denied the facts, why I’m not well
Burn here in the fires of hell
Fuelled by corruption of what I tell

You’ve driven me to scream
Give up my lifelong hopes and dreams
I want to die John Key’s so mean
Keep asking where my health care been

enD

Murray Jack GOTCHA!

Murray Jack you piece of crap
Controlling this, controlling that
Me and others know what you do
Advance the rich, degrade the few

Murray Jack you piece of crap
On the board of this and that
Neo-liberalism’s wrong
You harm the weak, protect the strong

Murray Jack you piece of crap
How could you choose this and that
Just another one percentre
Greed and fear’s what you engender

enD

Yesterday went out with some pieces of art which had a swastika on them and placed them at three differently places I thought were violating human rights.  NZ Initiative (aka Business Round Table), IPCA Police Conduct Authority and Ministry of Justice.

Left a poem, videod it on phone and put it on my youtube channel JR Murphy Poet.  This is one I had found in my visual diary, written a couple of months ago after seeing Murray Jack at court hearing about unsafe workplace at WINZ where John Tully shot the two workers.  Know he was part of the inquiry into these killings and ignored me when I spoke to him about how desperate things had become for long term disabled.  He one who suggested all the security guards, which have made things worse.

When I saw him at court case, before I was escorted out by security for wanting to put up a sign about the case.  I told him I was going to get him, told him he was neo-liberal scum and his lot had caused this tragedy.  Gave him a bollocking.

Writing this poem about him and sticking it up at NZ Initiative – where he is a board member – was what I meant.  I couldn’t find out where his office was and I hate this neo-liberal think tank.  I wrote GOTCHA at bottom of poem.  Putting it on youtube is also another GOTCHA (if you are reading this Murray, or any of your neo-liberal mates that created this hell for me and others).

Quite an honour to get a poem written about you – John Millar, Ruth Dyson, Tony Ellis, John Key are the others.

Now I want to meet with you for an hour at least and tell you my story and how I know the government are corrupt and experimenting on mentally injured abuse victims, traumatised and mentally ill – also persecuting many of them and denying them professional health care and rehabilitation.

Come on you coward, front up – contact me through my email, facebook or twitter.  I don’t check comments on my website because of trolls.

 

Too Hard Basket Case

A poem I wrote this morning – been wanting to use this phrase for a while now – last verse came as I was writing – BOOM!

I’m a too hard basket case
They won’t see me face to face
Send round police bullies to my place
Make our justice system a disgrace

I’m a too hard basket case
What they do to me is cruel
Create this suicide rocket fuel
Evil rich who SHOULD NOT rule

I’m a too hard basket case
They grind my bones to make their bread
Incite the hatred in my head
A disabled soul they want dead

I’m a too hard basket case
Make me beg so I lose face
Leave me rotting with no place
Beat men & women full of grace

I’m a too hard basket case
Break bonds of love by being cruel
Violence addiction they do fuel
Advance rich, poor they rule

I’m a too hard basket case
Fill my life with $1 bread
Oppress suppress what’s in my head
Make jobs for maggots until I’m dead

THERE TOO MANY BASKET CASES
TOO MANY SAD & DEAD FACES
CAUSED BY THOSE IN HIGH PLACES
WHILE PUTTING ON THEIR AIRS & GRACES

enD

Hurry Mr Ombudsman

Please hurry Mr Ombudsman
Rescue me from this red tape war

Please hurry Mr Ombudsman
I’m on my knees at heaven’s door

Please hurry Mr Ombudsman
This war is such cruel hell

Please hurry Mr Ombudsman
There is evil down in this well

Please hurry Mr Ombudsman
Get me off this torture wheel

Please hurry Mr Ombudsman
I just want to work and heal

Please hurry Mr Ombudsman
This situation is so NOT RIGHT!

Please hurry Mr Ombudsman
Before my disorder wins the fight

Please hurry

Jayne

eNd

I had been begging the Ombudsman for help but they did nothing except call the police when I phoned on 1 March 2011.

Rescue Me – Suicide Poem from Carterton

I sit waiting at the crossing
Thinking
About all the different ways
That train could end me
On this autumn day

A wise owl interjects
Stops, looks, acknowledges
Speaks
These dark thoughts are not all of you
This is why you need to keep fighting
Fighting for your rights
And the rights of others
Fighting for professional care

Beyond my body
A man on a bike calls to me
I open my window
We chat as neighbours

I like distraction

The thoughts of destruction weaken
Then grow stronger
It takes huge strength and concentration
To drive that devil back to hell
Secretly before the stranger

Please my people, rescue me
From the fires of hell
From their torture wheel

enD

Written in Carterton New Zealand, the heart of the Wairarapa Council marketing says - proof that the heart of our country is cruel immoral and uncivilized, there was no need to put me in this situation – no need to put any human being in this situation.  I had been begging for care I was entitled to and continually refused.

Lots of Christians go on about God saving you, but its the God in other people that rescue the traumatised and hurt - we have lost that in this country after 30 years of corruption and globalist terrorism advancing rich and persecuting poor.  People like me are nothing more than a way to create jobs and earn income for drug companies – they don’t want people to heal, they want people to be dysfunctional.  Evil shit but after 14 years of study it is the only explanation I can come up with.  I am repeatedly reminded of the presentation by KPMG consultant several years ago that said NGOs running mental health services DOES NOT WORK, its something they tried 20 years ago in UK it failed miserably, when they assessed why it was found the NGOs only took on those clients that were easy and cost them the least – the difficult ones they rejected.

The scary thing of course is most in the community cannot accept something like that would go on in our ‘beautiful’ paradise, yet I know in my heart it is true and that is a crime under law.

It took weeks to get over this event and I know if I didn’t write this poem those feelings would still be overwhelming me.  So I encourage people to try it and see what comes out, then share.  I am best contacted on facebook /jrmurphypoetmusician or twitter @jrmurphypoetry.

These are words from my first ever ‘dark’ poem I Want To Come In From The Cold

For I am Love, I am Life, I am Light
As much as I am Hate, I am Death, I am Darkness
A whole being
No longer shielded from the reality of the hatred at the heart of our now materialistic Kiwi culture.

Kia kaha to us all

JR

$1 Bread

Got no coffee
Got no tea
$1 bread is all I see

Got no car
I’m not free
$1 bread is all I see

Got no band
Backing me
$1 bread is all I see

Got no respect
That I need
$1 bread is all I see

Got no care
Cause of ACC
$1 bread is all I see

Got no money
To be me
$1 bread is all I see

While I got no justice
All would agree
$1 bread is all I’ll see

enD

No Respect

Written after police visit at 11pm 22 November 2015

Police have really got to stop all this shit
The visits, feigned concern, discrimination, ALL OF IT!

All reports I read say they’re supposed to protect
But for my welfare, my dignity, my peace, NO RESPECT!

The Ombudsman doesn’t want to hear what I see
So sends round the police to SCARE THE HELL INTO ME!

enD