The Christchurch Massacre – some perspective



by John Ansell,  Anzac Day 2019

Pungent poem by NZ Poet John Ansell on the Christchurch massacre and the sickeningly dhimmified response by Jacinda Ardern, Labour Prime Minister of New Zealand

An Aussie battler storms a Kiwi mosque;
As fifty Christchurch families grieve their loss
Compassion Comrade, quick to seize the day,
Brands white supremacism not OK;
Not all supremacism, only white:
A shot aimed at all males on her right.

To implicate her countrymen’s aggression
She dons the victims’ headdress of oppression:
The scarf for which her sisters in Iran
Are jailed and lashed for crying hard to ban:

A stance of which Baghdadi would approve,
A great career and Sharia move.
(A law that once all opposition’s banned
She’ll surely bring to this, our once-free land.)

An unwed mum, they’d take away her breath,
That place where women raped are stoned to death,
And yet this feminazi won’t deride
Islamic states — because she’s on their side.

A hypocrite, offensive with her charm,
Condemns Israel and yet condones Islam:
— Israel Folau, who only speaks for God
The way Mohammed did: How very odd!
How telling! While the Christian she’ll abuse
The homo-cidal Muslim she’ll excuse.

Sri Lankan terrorists leave ours for dead,
The phrase “Muslim supremacists” unsaid:
No mention of supremacists at all,
For here she plays the man and there the ball.

A mother fresh from thirty years in Sweden
Confirms how Swedish Eves surrendered Eden:
The feminists, as women do, aligning
With Islamists in proudly undermining
Their fathers’ ancient homeland strong and true
To loose the gates and let their rapists through.

Deluded and determined to be nice
At any cost, they make their sacrifice, These ostriches who ostracise their men
And sacrifice their daughters once again.

The headdress of the feminist is sand:
She hates her gender more than any man;
A gender largely lacking Hanson’s spine,
Preferring to emote and loudly whine:
To vilify, not fortify, her brothers;
Religiously available to others.

Her kindness being the queen of selfish acts
When unconstrained by honesty or facts;
Her signals of her virtue warm her heart
As brain and spine and conscience soon depart.

“Why can’t we just surrender and be nice?”
Because submission is the highest price.
The cause of kindness is a selfish cause
And cowardice a cause of all man’s wars.

Tough luck if you regard this as too soon
To speak up for the good men you impugn:
The country that your brave forefather built
Is not for sale for you to flaunt his guilt.

A land you should defend, not merkelise!
Stand up for once and open up your eyes!
We mean no harm to those who come in peace,
But answer this, before the flames increase:

Whose husbands hide their wives behind the veil
And whose considered that beyond the pale?

Whose clerics countenance as orthodox
A woman as a walking letter box?

Whose patriarchy most engenders fright:
The stoners and beheaders? Or the white?

Which thugs have rained more grief with bomb and gun:
The Saudi thousands or the Christchurch one?

Which culture is the more supremacist:
The European or the Islamist?

Yet up and down the land you take her bait
As agents for the Kiwi Caliphate:
When girls parade in mini-skirt and scarf
The Prophet has the last and longest laugh.

We mourn the dead of Christchurch, as we should,
And women call us bad when we are good;
The perpetrator, cold and brutal man,
Facilitates a kinder traitor’s plan.

A she-wolf dressed as sheep: what kind of mind
Believes it kind to undermine her kind
By having Vidkun Peters sign the warrant
To merkelise and legalise a torrent?

There was a Winston once who gave the roar
And raged against invaders on the shore,
And once again it seems to be the season
But Winston’s has become the voice of treason.

Genetically allergic to the truth,
Sly sacrificer of his nation’s youth,
Who, true to form, has once again reversed
His solemn oath to put New Zealand first.

Ard-hering to the bully girl’s agenda,
A cell prepared for he who dares offend her.
Who’s more the scourge: the grump or sycophant?
The white supremacist or the white ant?

Beware supremacists of every stripe,
The green and red more evil than the white.
Beware the Ides of March and those who scheme,
For some are the reverse of who they seem.

Beware the wolf, a Kiwi dressed as sheep
The Little virtue-signalling Bo Peep,
The fleece over the eyes of sisters pulled
The brothers not being quite so easily fooled.

Beware the Virtue-Signaller-in-Chief
Uniting the delusional in grief;
Beware the smiley face, beware the ruse,
Beware the march of Jacboots that ensues.

Beware the gushing heart and mushy brain:
Two organ failures bound to bring you pain.
Beware the girls who do the easy thing:
Appease the snake and hope the bite won’t sting.

So who’ll defend her land and stand and fight
And who’ll collaborate and prove me right?

Each earthly breed is programmed to apply
Precautionary principles or die,
Yet if he locks the gate she takes offence!
Who now will give the roar for common sense?

I say again, in light of these events
Who now will give the roar of common sense?

This poem is read out aloud by John Ansell outside the Beehive (NZ Parliament) in Wellington –


  1. This poem, irrespective of its literary merit, is most courageous. I stand in no doubt of its sincerity. What a great shame there are not more men and women of the caliber of this poet.


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