"murdoch" poems
Are we to reject a greater unity
for the sake of a superficial
sovereignty.
For does not the richness of
every need its canvas.
And every flower deserve a special
place in the garden.
As every star sits in the nights sky
belonging to a constellation.
I never hear them complaining
only gently sparkling.
Are we to reverse down a dark alley
not knowing where we are going.
Do we wish to offer a clenched fist
or are we to open our hand and heart.
Have we become so inwardly looking
that we switch of our lights close our
eyes as a room full of blind nations
continue to fight.
Are we to be influenced by papers
that serendipitously cloud the difference
between EU immigrants and Syrian refugee's.
As Rupert Murdoch and corperate power
divides and conquers.
Trillions gather of shore sit on the world
like a giant cancer and all we do is fight
with each other.
As they in circle us with their power we become
the entertainment at their coliseum.
Or do we pour love within the gaps becoming all
so much closer bringing back all our power.
Are we to live in a shrinking world where
other people's problems do not matter.
Is it time to close our eyes or time to look
in the mirror.
Out out out keep the bad guys out
as though our hands were clean
that we had never done anything wrong.
Are we we to cling to a penny pinching surface
or delve into the depths of our character looking for
a deeper treasure that truly matters.
Will not the true values of our heart not proper
when connected more deeply on the inside
and out.
By clinging to a superficial sovereignty we may
find ourselves also clinging to a wobbly mast.
As our island drifts of into a rough sea we maybe
to involved with surviving that we forget
who we truly are.
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
I’m just a lanky lass from Wycheproof
Born on the right side of the tracks
Law degree and a stint at Racing Vic
I’ve risen well above the backroom hacks
I’m revered
and I’m feared
I’m Tony’s confidante
I scream, I shout, I rant
Back benchers quake
Ministers shake
I’m an armoured tank
You know I outrank
any one in Coo-ee
of super-strong me
Chief of Staff to the PM
I’m the ultimate femme
Murdoch grumbled, tried to call me to heel
I’m never humbled, I’m totally real
I am the ‘she’ who must be obeyed
I am the piper who must be paid
I’m the gate-keeper
I’m the scythe-reaper
Tony knows who makes and butters his bread
I keep him happy, I keep him well fed
I am Salome, when I call for a head
a platter it’s given, my enemy dead.
I was top of my game and top of the list
of Helen McCabe’s ‘Women of Power’
I’ve never cowered, brown-nosed or arse-kissed
I stand tall, over midgets I tower
Natural-born killer exudes from my pores
I suffer no fools, I banish the bores
I mark my territory, a ******* dog
Clear dry is my vision, no room for fog
Some say I influence all decisions
I’m an enforcer of rigid divisions
There is only ‘us’ in the battle of wills
Ride on my side, for the endless high thrills
Of course I agree I’ve had an impact
It’s true without me, poor Tony can’t act
But sad to tell you, it’s still more than that
I’m in charge of the ball and even the bat
I know there are some who cannot like me
Though I control the national psyche
So come Malcolm, Julie and sad sack Joe
I will decide when it’s my time to go
No-one can challenge Abbot, my hero
I’ll zap them to ashes, to dust, to zero
I’ll huff and I’ll puff and blow their House down
Forever secure and wearing my crown
So don’t mess with me, you miserable crew
Just you crawl away in case I say, “Boo!”
I’m beautiful fearless, utterly bold
Remember, I serve revenge icy cold.
© M.L.Emmett
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 10:25 PM UTC
The yonder above is forever bruised and opaque
Reigning over glum faces
Complexions washed with a bloodless shade of dispassion
Robotic, disengaged.
Material desires are quenched with vast shopping centres
Credit Cards hold on for dear live
As every last drop of sweet money is rinsed from that plastic rectangle.
Living beyond our means
Whilst simultaneously refusing to give up on Sky TV box sets and liquid lunches.
Hooked to our phones, but not for telephone communication
Rather, for self validation
Defined by the click of a heart or pathetic thumb.
The once friendly communities
With blood coursing through their veins
Are husks of their previous life form, gentrified beyond recognition.
Filtered faces with protruding spines and modified features
Infiltrate mass media
Corrupting the definitions of success and beauty.
Plastic personalities reign supreme
Vacuous minded socialites profess women’s empowerment begins with the flaunting of skin
Rather than the possession of a strong mind.
Many bury their heads in the sand
Residing in ignorance
As mass genocides and civil wars manifest every second.
Or worse, they read the TORYgraph and THE ****
Believing immigrants spawn white genocide
And white conservatives suffer oppression.
Pffft!
I have deep contempt for those behind these ***** tabloids
Murdoch and his monsters
Orchestrating lies and bile
Destroying lives or scaremongering the impressionable
Committing the most savage, sycophantic crimes
In order to extract Monday’s headline.
I do not suffer fools
Especially those who make up the tapestry of dystopia
A failing age of doom.
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 12:00 PM UTC
Come on everyone don't be
like reluctant children on the
first day of their schooling.
Oh cloudy dark days, its really
not that bad, plenty
more twists in the story.
Lets all join hands stop
swearing tell everyone at
the top we are all together
and not moving.
OK come on,with no doubts lets go,
go Brexit, but then lets paint it
red and not blue.
Wave to Mr Murdoch and say Ha ha to
you, you lost after all.
Let us temper the angered
words dealt snake bit and
venom.
Brutal exchanges like Klitschko
and Joshua now is the time for
the hug right after.
You know when we are all slinging
mud and shouting someone
some where in power is betting.
And they are the only one that will
be winning.
Time now is for us to look in with
rolling hills, roses and blackberry
bushes.
Sandy beaches, prickly thorns and
mystery round circles of stones.
Coated in gentle breezes alike a
kindly uncle the weather protects
us.
And what do I find that sweet soft
tender, holly in the winter and roses
in the summer.
little England
And not something to be ashamed of
but something to be
proud of.
Time is now for us all to be free as there
is always darkness just before a birth.
Like a brave bird breaking free only
the brave seeds make it into a tree.
As not every parent knows what
is right for their child.
But lets not then look for the common
wealth and all its crimes.
let us simply be
Little England
That subtle feeling we hold
As we all know all the answers
live
INSIDE
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
I go out for coffee
with my best
friend every
evening
And see the thorns come out of
I people In ways I wouldn't expect.
D One woman moves away from us. One
R boy calls her a terrorist. One man threate
I ns to have her deported Even though she w
N as born in New Jersey. America the free....?
K I drink coffee with my parents in the morning, My
C Dad's daily dose of poisons called Fox and Friends
O Hannity The O'reilly Factor Cause my ears to bleed.
F They say that while not all Muslims are terrorists All ter
F rorists are Muslim. They use religion as a scapegoat
E What they don't know isThese radicals do the exact
E same thing. I drink coffee by myself in the afterno
on. Somewhere, during that time Personality Ru
pert Murdoch blames all Muslims for terrorism.
He says they all must take responsibility for t
his "cancer". Then must I, as a Christian, tak
e responsibility for the KKK? Must I, as a
member of your religion, Rupert, take
responsibility for your ignorance? I
stand in solidarity with these Mus
lims who would never rip a hair
off my head or a bone from m
y body. We can do without
people like you, who mak
my coffee taste bitter.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
“He led a double life. Did that make him a liar? He did not feel a liar. He was a man of two truths.”
―Iris Murdoch
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 12:37 AM UTC
S I D E A
"already mine" : us the duo
"us" : james bay
"broken things" : clairity
"the night we met" : lord huron
"delicate" : taylor swift
"life me up" : mree
S I D E B
"august" : flipturn
"stupid" : lizzy mcalpine
"i love you" : billie eilish
"mirrorball" : taylor swift
"through the dark" : alexi murdoch
"if you ever want to be in love" : james bay
Sep 10, 2023
Sep 10, 2023 at 12:03 AM UTC
we're whipping through the backroads
without seat belts, kicking up the dust--
the Sangre De Cristos looming with chalky
crowns above the hills, riddled with fence
posts and battered lean-tos, homes with
green shingles and matching john deere
tractors--the mountains, the mountains.
you go around every corner like it's a straightaway
I still see you smiling at me through locked doors
cradling me like a baby bird and hoping I might
throw caution out when all around your heart
there's these warning signs on big yellow placards
glinting in the night.
there are a dozen thoughts, all equally crippling--
staggered images of you squinting up at me on
the hill above the barn in that wrinkled white t-shirt,
a gray murdoch's hat pushed high up on your forehead,
hip cocked out with your hands twitching at your sides
rubbing brake fluid between your fingers
brooke, it is pointless to you. That's so obvious to me.
they tell you to stay down when shot, play dead when
in danger, but i've been seeking solace in your neck
trying to keep myself from telling you that I love you, feeling
it at the back of my lips ready to spill over, overcome
by your gentleness, asking God *why, why can't I just
love him?*
it's so obvious to you? that i've spent a month telling myself that it's okay, that you're right, that you're harmless, that things can work
out, so pointless goes on ringing in my ears, clattering down the
airways into my heart where i love you still hangs loosely by a
thread, or maybe a rope, maybe an industrial wire ready to bring
the house down with its weight, a marble for each day, a stone, a
boulder.
county road 255 seems a whole lot shorter,
I'm preoccupied with the dry shrubs the color of verdigris, the color
of your laugh, how i can't see through the tangle of my own emotions, how i really do want you to be the one, the one person that just happens to be right--it's so obvious, you said.
so obvious.
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 4:15 PM UTC
based on Alexi Murdoch's song, "Something Beautiful"
May God love you
& keep you safe from harm
May He hold you
Oh so safely in His arms
There there are no cares
No causes for alarm
Life Is Something Beautiful!
I saw a shine
So now I slip into the light
I saw a sign
So now I know the wrong from right
I saw a shine
And now I have the strength to fight
I saw a sign
It was right there in my sight
I saw a shine
And it shattered all the night!
Because life is such a miracle!
And I saw
In my heart
I saw a light shine... light shine!
And I saw
In my soul
I saw the light shine... light shine!
( repeat 3X )
SoulSurvivor
(C) 8/8/2016
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
I've been doing lotsa reflections, now that's all I see.
Reflection of you in every window, in every still water.
So I took my knife out, stabbed your neck times 43.
But I'm not guilt- free, I still cry each time it's over.
I suppressed my conscience, as the devil laughed heartily.
With a cane in hand, twirling, tap dancing on my shoulder.
The angel is all quiet cause she is bound and gagged.
My system is down, cause this angel deserved to die.
Covered in dirt, blood, her body is found and bagged.
I cannot lie, but I'm glad that she can no longer fly.
**** colours, cause the world is just brown and black.
I begged the devil to plunge his pitchfork into my eyes.
I hear better than Murdoch now, even when that pin drops.
I hear the demons singing in my heart, acapella hiphop.
Symphony echoing off the emptiness of my chest.
Succubus ****** my happiness, I'm feeling lifeless
In a sea of despair, I'm just floating on my life-vest.
So with the same knife that I stabbed you, I stabbed me.
4 times in the lungs, so air rushed out, blood rushed in.
3 in the abdomen, slashed an artery, so I'm bleeding badly.
Asphyxiating in my own **** blood, I began gaspin'.
I can't believe, in my final moments,
with my eyes blind, it's still you that I see.
****
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 3:28 AM UTC
A poem and tribute to my Nana Lilly Murdoch Sokimi. After nearly six years, we’ve fulfilled her wish, laying her ashes to rest on her island home, a place I knew only through her stories but have now walked myself #kuria #kiribati
💕
For you my beloved Nana you are cherished ❤️🌴
I miss you so much, but my heart knows you’re at peace and no longer at fuss
You’re laid to rest on Kuria, the island you love. Home with your beloved ones, safe in the stars above.
I miss you nana but I know you’re home
I sit on the beach, the sand warms beneath me. Your tales of old times dance in the waves of the sea
I miss you nana but I know you’re home
I wish you were here, right by my side,
But I feel you watching, with love as my guide.
I miss you nana but I know you’re home
Riding on the back of a motorbike, wind in my face, I see you in the land, in every sacred place.
I miss you nana but I know you’re home
The coconut trees sway gently, I’ll never forget whispering your tales you told me as a child oh how I fret.
I miss you nana but I know you’re home
I walk on the beach where the sand holds your steps and I hear your laughter, your glories in depths.
I miss you Nana but I know you are here
Kuria, your home, your land holds you now, in its warm, endless way.
In the heart of this island, where families join you by your side and love will never fade away .
You are home, my dearest Nana, you are home, my heart aches to say, forever here and my heart you will always stay.
From Fiji to Kuria we have reached the shores, May you Rest in eternal peace my dearest Nana on this sacred island of yours.
Jun 29, 2025
Jun 29, 2025 at 10:41 PM UTC
That man with the brain
Sits in a chair
That man with a chain
Sits in a cell
That woman with a drain
Cleaning all the dishes
That woman with a pain
Got a baby to take care of
Who's making this world spin
They know the ones who get broke
This world sits on their shoulders
While the dopeman peddles dope
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
Johnny' hi dudes and welcome to party zone and today we have a lot of party stuff for you
Tonight and our first guest is jimmy opmum with his jingle
Jimmy' working hard every day and night trying to get things right
You see some people are nice to you and some people fight
You see you get bullied by the pope if you don't share his views
And I notice Henry Atkins
At home watching the news
You see he sees all the bad stuff that happened in that day
Oh oh oh oh it just doesn't work
Take me to a party
With a spiked punch and beer and wine
And they have a drink
That is So disgusting
You would think it is turpentine
Then the Barmah said
You don't need to drink it no
Just let me know if you like it or not and put it in my book
Oh oh oh oh it just doesn't work
Johnny't that was great and now here is Steve with his jingle
Steve'. 1 and a 2 and a 3 and we party oh yeah every day and night and none of us fight
My mate is treating me like a toy because I like him a lot
I can't drink beer because it
Tastes so ****** bitter
So bitter it makes you jitter
And people think you are stupid
Just like that Murdoch man first name rupert
You see he is a problem of a bloke a real **** and I think
He would be a **** if his first name was rick or pick or even bridge and rupert is stupid and that's no lie
Johnny'. Ok thanks for your two
Poems see ya next week
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 9:28 AM UTC
I recall the wonder of discovery and
The awesome Technicolor
When you , taking me in your hand,
Perplexed the monarch of my affections
And I was a spinster no longer
My cataracts bent themselves rectangle
As you made primetime of my matinee
Made me pixellated
The world was square
And the Sky without limits
When I moved you into my private chamber
The pause button, having broken
Made us live in the moment
Every sound wave a fluttering falsetto
That we dare not turn the channel over
You came to me in flat format
But you were the set top box of times now gone
I longed to open you up
And absorb your teletext- the sonnets of old
Primetime was a kaleidoscope
As I lay there in bed with you, my precious television
Suddenly this slim rectangular riddle, when switched on,
was a philanthropist without shackles
The infinite gift that kept on giving
Mid-way through Holby City
20:20
Vision slipping
I lay there captivated by the elements of some fictional dame
And her fiery mane as it lights up the screen
The screen flickered 24 frames per second
And with it I slip into a familiar abyss
Ah, the reassuring comfort of my companion
And how you lulled me to sleep
Every press of the remote was a celebration of my admiration
Groping and clinging to it like some wilting tradition
Night after night you kept me company
Breathing warmth and pointing your aerial towards me
As I begged Mr Murdoch to
Open my eyes and fill me with information
Nothing dared distract me from you
Though there are those that tried
Those who found themselves muted
I was glued
And when the schedules faded to shopping or teletext
I’d switch you off
And listen to you on standby
How your heavy breathing would soothe me
The red on/off light that burns brightly into the night
Lets me know that you are alive
I hide the remote from prying eyes
Beneath the pillow that, on top, sit’s the TV guide
My encyclopaedia to the stars
How you have pleased me endlessly
Illuminating me
Filling me with light
I swift you off and reach for the plug
When suddenly a shock of electricity runs through my body
I feel it in my bones
You are possessive
It reminds me that I am alive
End
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 9:11 AM UTC