Category Archives: Poetry

Power Junkies

 

What becomes of my broken heart
The rage and fear you cruelly start
You proved that swastika justified
Stood up in court and you lied

The bruises on my legs and arm
For weeks remind me of your harm
All I asked for was a sorry
Promise peace so I don’t worry

The flashbacks haunt me of that day
They make things worse, won’t go away
You pledge white ribbon you do follow
You swear an oath to Queen and bible

Pakeha, Maori, Africaan
The race of men who caused me harm
I’m a child of this earth these stars
You left me with more ugly scars

Junkies rule the marginalised
The poor, oppressed, the most despised
Keep up their bullying over years and years
Follow cruel elites, profit from tears

And one more thing you oughta know about me
I DON’T TAKE NO SHIT FROM NO POWER JUNKIE

enD

Dedicated to Judge P J Butler, Sgt Q Hoera and Const Allan French, also 2 security guards at high court who assaulted me.

Mr Key What Business Plan

Hey Mr Key as a business man
What is in your business plan
For what reason to do you exist
Mr Key give me a list

Your vision statement in few words
Your market, purpose, customers

You tell us all the time you care
About your customer’s hopes and fears
Those who do you work for you
Do you check that they do

Do you walk around this land
Check these things out first hand
Or do you just ignore the trends
Surround yourself with ‘yes’ women men

When things go wrong do you check
All have done their jobs their best
Do you sack liars, frauds and thieves
Do you check their abilities

You’re CEO, chairman of the board
You need to deal with those things ignored
Those things rocking our canoe our ship
Those things that are slowly sinking it

For ten years now I’ve been saying
Something’s wrong with those you’re paying
I’ve tried every avenue that there is
Studied the health & welfare business

Told successive leaders what I know
For the most dysfunctional its just a show
And under this fascard
There’s discrimination, incompetence, disregard

Mr Key as prime minister
Don’t allow those ignorant and sinister
Who paint a picture of concern and care
When really they provide a torture wheel

I’ll write and sing, passionately I care
Louder and louder until you hear
I know I’m right because I’ve studied
They’re torturing people, the most bloodied

So Mr Key when you think ahead
Be reminded of what you’re read
Your vision statement must encompass all
It’s everyone’s business, now it’s your call

enD

Grocery Shopping Makes Me Very Sad

I posted this on a friends facebook page when he asked people how poverty makes you feel, so many people have commented that’s what they feel. Was often crying at the supermarket, was so ashamed and felt completely worthless and alienated – and people wonder why poor people often become agrophobic (don’t like outside).

Shopping Makes Me Very Sad

I used to like grocery shopping
It was the only time I allowed myself to be ok about spending
I used to like grocery shopping
Now it makes me very very sad

As I walk around the isles
I try not to look at the food I’m not allowed
As I walk around the isles
All I want to do is cry, breakdown and howl

I can only buy the cheapest
Can’t afford the things I used to purchase
I can only buy the cheapest
Makes me feel really cheap and worthless

I try not to look around
Pick things up and put them back
I try not to look around
In the meat section I choose one thing for the week

Every item I pick up reminds me
Of the politicians and health services that put me here
Every item I pick up reminds me
All my family vote National and don’t want me near

Those things I choose
Mean I can’t pay to get my car repaired
Those things I choose
Mean I can’t get to Wellington asking to be heard

I buy butter to do some baking
I reminds me the CEO of Fonterra $2,500/hour he gets
I buy butter to do some baking
It reminds me the government wants to stop me selling a few scones at the market

My trolley isn’t very full
One layer on the bottom, just covering
My trolley isn’t very full
Others have a pile of nice things they’ll be eating

I used to like grocery shopping
Now it just reminds me how callous and mean our country has become
I used to like grocery shopping
Now it just makes me very very sad

enD

Take Heart – Poem – sell your old art to fund political justice campaigns

Someone on twitter is selling some famous art to help fund Greens campaign – this is a poem I wrote about my friend Richard who sold some old artworks of his and funded my political activism for several years.  Love you Richard.

TAKE HEART

Take down those dusty paintings
That fine art upon the wall
Take down those dusty paintings
In bedroom, lounge and hall

Take them to a Trade Me auction
Pass them on to someone new
Take them to a Trade Me Auction
Help to free the poorest few

Take stock of your priorities
Remember why you live
Take stock of your priorities
Who will benefit from what you give

Take heart the world is waking up
Peace and harmony will soon reign
Take heart the world is waking up
To those playing the class war game

Take over our courts and parliaments
With the dusty art upon your walls
Take over our courts and parliaments
Until this oligarchy falls

enD

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