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We See! Said the Blind Mice
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/17/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
I once went to some mice,
To gives ‘dem advice,
As you what the other paw of their cat was doin’,
Their teacher megillah cat,
Was happy and fat,
Receiving tithes ‘dat came from ‘dem mice’s ruin’!
We see! We see! We see!
Said the mice who had once been blind!
At first, you bothered us,
Then you challenged us,
So now we ask, what do you find?
Forget ‘de cat, beware of you’selves,
A suckah’ is born every minute!
Don’ make a big megillah mouse to follow,
Power corrupted ‘dat cat, didn’t it?
Figure ‘dis out, you guys!
Got any mice dat’s wise?
Bein’ a dog myself, ‘dey hoi’d me!
‘Dey knew we dogs ‘n cats had enmity!
An’ ‘dey trusted whatever it might be I said!
So I grabs four mice in my mout’,
An’ shook ‘em, ‘den spits ‘em out!
Don’t trust nobody!
Not even me, with your blood red!
‘Den I noticed strange dealings,
I knew ‘dem awakened mouse feelings,
And I said, No! No, you don’t!
You’re ’bout to tell ‘dat dog catcher,
I ran away from my cruel master,
Who beat me!
And I, you: won’t?
We see! We see! We see!
Said the mice who had once been blind!
At first, you bothered us,
Then you challenged us,
So now we ask, what do you find?
Warily, ‘dey eyed me,
Warily, I eyed ‘dem,
I stuck out my paw and said, Friends?
‘Dey pulls out a huge festerin’ thorn in it!
I howled, but honest, I kept my mout’ grinnin’,
Now you is teachin’ me!
‘Dis time, I says, you wins!
We been helpin’ each other for years now,
Sometimes to the wisdom of mice, I bow!
‘Dey’re no longer so easily caught cat-chow,
And I’m not so proud of my bones somehow!
‘Dat’s how friends actually sometimes is,
You know, stompin’ out each foible’s biz!
We see! We see! We see!
Said the mice who had once been blind!
At first, you bothered us,
Then you challenged us,
So now we ask, what do you find?
Because in each of us,
Is somethin’ ‘dat can really big-time fail!
And in known’ ‘dat,
We can be humble and hearty-hail!
So we’re no longer full of frightenment,
But always open to enlightenment!
‘Den sometimes, me and ‘de mice gang,
We see big megillah cats teaching mice,
We hollers out, like a bell rang,
Teachers, students: You’re involved in vice!
Come wit’ us, ‘dere’s much to learn,
A few do, my what ‘dey earn!
Higher love!
From above!
And joy!
Oh boy!
Now, you should see our crazy, mad mix!
Me? I’m having to love ever-lovin’cats!
An’ ‘dis thing knocks me down flats,
Yup, even old dogs gotta loin’ new tricks!
We see! We see! We see!
Said the mice who had once been blind!
At first, you bothered us,
Then you challenged us,
So we ask, what now do you find?
The Saga of Three Hunting Arrows
By Robert Winkler Burke)
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/17/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Me have bow,
Me have three arrows,
Face-of-Scar,
It narrows.
One-Eyed-One, he says to me,
Show me your old quiver!
I’ll show you what’s in mine,
Then we hunt by river!
Face-of-Scar, half-brother,
I have three arrows with feather,
You hunt with yours, me mine,
And we’ll see who hunts for leather!
He says, Ha! I have just,
Three arrows too!
I’ll bet my life, he says,
My hunt beats you!
We agreed, I’d serve him,
If he then, did beat me,
If I beat him, he serves me,
For eternity!
Face-of-Scar, he says,
My arrows always beat yours: me beat you easy-daisy!
In my quiver is,
Arrow: Fear, arrow: Greed and arrow: Brave-Turns-to-Lazy.
We were hunting, we brothers,
The Great Spirit that lives above us all,
To win, our arrows must land,
On target: to feed our nation small.
I said, Oh half-brother,
You’ll probably beat me, but let us now pray,
Oh Great Spirit above,
Teach us the warrior’s heart, and what’s right to say.
We ran for a full day and night moonlit,
And arrived at clear rivers and snowy mountains grand,
Face-of-Scar said to me, and me him: This is it!
Here we hunt for the Great Spirit. This is our stand!
Old Face-of-Scar took from his skull-bone-inked quiver,
A fine arrow he had marked: Greed,
He saw a wild pig stuck in a bog by a river,
And killed it, saying, Got what I need!
Next his arrow marked: Fear,
Killed a rattlesnake sunning on a rock,
Face-of-Scar laughed at me,
He said, Me ahead! You better take stock!
Before I could, Face-of-Scar,
Climbed into a cave and killed a sleeping bear,
With the arrow he had marked,
Brave-Turns-to-Lazy, and he skinned it there.
My half-brother said,
I go now back home with all this meat!
Our little nation,
Me, most brave, they will happy greet!
Their plan would be the same one,
Always it was very second rate!
The meat would spoil rotten,
So vultures could be trapped, then ate!
You see, all our little nation had ever eaten,
Was vultures lured by rotting flesh!
The result of fear, greed and laziness,
Great evil had done this, my guess.
When you return, One-Eyed-One,
Because half-brother: hunt, you sure ‘ken’t!
I’ll delight to see you then,
Said Scar, as my own demure servant!
When he left,
Of courage,
I felt bereft,
Oh, sour age!
I went to an ice-cold place,
On the tallest rocky mountain that I could find,
With arrow marked: Ways Highest,
I shot at a ram, but missed, hitting cloud behind!
With arrow marked: Oldest Ways,
I aimed at buck elk at Great River’s bend,
But once again my one eye missed,
And the arrow disappeared in the wind!
Then I saw, as big as a man, a giant salmon,
Leaping up a waterfall!
With my arrow, God-in-You, I shot in the mist,
And missed! That was all.
That night around my little campfire,
I wanted to kill myself with my sharp knife!
But an angel squaw came up to me,
And said, Oh seer! You’ve passed all tests of strife!
Hear the Great Spirit say,
He now lives in you! In fact, it’s His Son!
Go back to your nation,
With arrows: that beginning, be begun!
The angel squaw gave me,
My arrow marked: Ways Highest,
And said, Tell your people,
To neither greed nor fear: buyest.
She next handed to me,
My other arrow marked: Oldest Ways,
This means self-sacrifice,
God is God, not man: This never displace!
She said, The Oldest Ways are always there,
Pointing toward hard disciplines of self-correction!
Power corrupts, chiefs must be checked, and such,
That human pride be low, and with it: soft, slow tongue!
The last arrow the angel squaw returned to me,
It was, you remember, marked: God-in-You!
She said, This is the greatest mystery of them all,
See with eyes of God, ever it is true!
God’s Son lives in you now,
He is returned!
Careful with this knowledge,
You could get burned!
When you return to your tipi village,
The next morning the ram, the elk and salmon will appear at your tent!
Slay them and eat them in a happy feast,
None must eat vulture! Millennium curses on your village are now rent!
Keep the three arrows, oh warrior,
Remember Ways Highest, Ways Oldest and God-in-You!
Get some sleep now, One-Eyed-One,
When you wake up, you’ll fly like an eagle true!
And all happened,
Just like that heaven-sent squaw angel said!
But Face-of-Scar,
Whom I wanted to free, well, he was dead!
He died from what, in the absence of the Great Spirit,
No nation of any size can ever cure!
He died from worshipping fear, greed and what makes braves lazy,
He choked to death, when he ate vulture!
Now all in my little nation,
Have God-in-You in one form or the other!
We only eat what’s right for us,
The bad we resist, but with good: we’re brother!
How about your nation, your family,
Or your eyes that need to see?
Take High Paths, Old Ways and good God-in-You!
Old One-Eyed-One sets you free!
Drop fear! Drop greed!
Drop all things making you lazy!
Or not! Go back,
If you must! But, who is crazy?
Now, you shall not forget this Saga,
Of Three Hunting Arrows!
Choose which three you want to follow,
Your option now narrows!
If you choose the right arrows,
You can never go back!
You never stop seeing more,
And soul: never has lack!
But who believes a one-eyed man?
A half-breed Injun’ no less!
Only if the Great Spirit gives you faith,
To help you be: most best!
Now it’s the time In That Day,
When the storyteller draws to a close,
So ask yourself, Am I right?
Or wrong? Only heaven, or a good eye, knows!
Only heaven, or a good eye, knows,
How much God wants you to, in-Him, be!
If you ever find such an one,
Listen! Their three arrows set you free!
Come and Check Me Out!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/18/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Come and check me out!
I cried to the Lord one day,
I’ve scribed Your teachings,
For none to heed, of Your way!
Oh, crybaby Robert!
God asked, What precisely is your complaining matter?
Oh why, oh God, my Lord,
Do ways High, Old and Imbued: your sheep scatter?
Okay then,
Scribe who must somehow save his own face!
Let’s check you,
Against the new and old wisdom of your race!
I’ll send the Devil,
To accuse you, said the Lord,
God left! Satan came!
I no longer was bored.
Let’s see, said Satan,
You like High Ways, Old Paths and Christ-in-You?
I’ll debunk that now,
Behold, God lets me inquire of all who lived true!
William Shakespeare says,
Methinks ye protesteth too much!
Proud King Saul says,
God’s own anointed, do not touch!
Gene Roddenberry says,
You haven’t boldly gone far enough!
Mark Twain says,
You’re not even getting it rough!
And he also says,
All right then, you’ll go to hell!
And Shakespeare says,
All’s not well with your end’s dwell!
Solomon says,
You need more wives!
The cat says,
You need more lives!
George Lucas says,
Your light saber has gone limp!
Charles Darwin says,
You are not man, but a chimp!
Procurator Porcius Festus says,
Thou art beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad!
Clint Eastwood says,
Go ahead, make my day: You’re either good, or ugly or bad!
Braveheart says,
Get a bigger sword!
Dorian Gray says,
You’re not my Lord!
Cervantes says,
You’re not too funny!
Jeremiah says,
You’re way too sunny!
George Orwell says,
You’ve got it about right,
Einstein says,
You’re not that bright.
Socrates says,
It’s enough just to know thyself!
Your readers say,
You’ve too many books for shelf!
John Wayne says,
That’ll be the day!
Groucho Marx says,
What did he say?
The Greek philosophers,
Say, It is easy to be moral, in your sleep!
Peter says, Have you done,
What he was thrice told, feed My sheep?
The ministries say,
What’s wrong with greedy, fearful and lazy?
Crazy Horse says,
Man I was a wild spirit, but you are a daisy!
And me, the Devil!
I’m concluding this argument, because I eternally say,
What are you thinking?
High Things, Old Paths, Indwelling: ain’t the world’s way!
Thank you Devil, I said,
And thank you, God, I feel recharged!
In That Day Teachings,
Shall not stop, but be enlarged!
Checked against the High Ways,
And the Great Wisdom of Ages,
Indwelt-of-God work shall grow,
In That Day: creates more sages!
Sorry God,
Sorry, I did complain,
It’s okay,
He says, I’ll send more rain.
I Came, I Saw, I Excavated!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/20/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
I pulled up with a giant excavator,
Its treads were as wide as a long-handled shovel,
To a job site where all the people were confused,
Digging and hacking at their foundation’s hovel.
They were stupefied and brain-washed,
Thinking their camp axes and shovels could get at the problem,
I was surprised when they looked at me,
As Frankenstein, Darth Vader, Satan! A real Gollum-Goblin!
Let me dig with my giant excavator,
For free for you!
I see a huge tree of evil in your homes,
Making lies: truth!
I said it! Yes!
That’s just what I said!
But it filled them,
With even more dread!
Your homes have become impossibly overgrown,
Like abandoned property in Detroit!
What? You think you can will this to be easy?
As babies, you say, Pwease! It can’t hoi’t!
The bucket on my excavator,
Is about the size of your houses!
Let me knock them down ever-so-quick,
They’re not good for men, but mouses!
Go away! They said. Take your mouth,
And your power excavator!
We prefer mouse homes, mouse droppings!
But your kind? We ever-hate more!
With that, each ugly tree,
Growing through each uninhabitable home,
More than doubled in size!
So that the mice left! Even mice had to roam!
Maybe we could live in some rat holes?
They said as I left in my excavator,
They never saw the architect’s plans,
Rolled up in my cab, from our God Creator!
They never saw anything good,
In me, In That Day,
I came to them with God’s truth,
It blew them away!
Are we to be mice?
Or to be men!
I will wait for that,
Until then!
Oh, the plans? Lots of plans! They show,
Old paths of Correction, High Ways and Christ-in-You,
Read through them! They make a good home,
A palace, really, in which the Most High can imbue!
That’s what I offered,
Instead of rat-hole living,
But the sheep couldn’t see,
So busy with wolf-giving.
They saw my yellow excavator,
As a monster caterpillar causing them to die,
In truth, it was transcendence!
Something altogether different: like a butterfly!
Few want to exchange rat-brains,
For Christ’s mind of indwelling,
They look at In That Day’s truth,
As what the Devil’s selling.
Darkness covers the land,
Gross darkness the people,
Perhaps more lights will,
Help pulpit-blind sheeple.
More lights on the excavator!
Get an even bigger bucket!
All will be needed In That Day,
When sheep, at last, want to chuck it!
When sheep want to say,
Bye, bye! to all that is bad,
And embrace pronto,
The plans: God always has had!
The New Me!
By Chris Quinn
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/24/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Who is this wondrous new me?
Grave clothes have fallen away!
Behold, I’m clothed in,
New baby’s pink-soft skin,
Now I see: Christ-in-Me!
Set free from prisons of deceit,
Free to learn at Master’s feet,
Now I see: Christ in Me!
I charged down the Damascus road of pride,
Not knowing that my steed was lame and blind!
But the power and Shekinah of the Lord’s light,
Knocked demon doctrines in me flat! Why?
Now I see: Christ in Me!
The Resurrection and the Life called my name,
Out of the tomb of Churchianity I came!
My heart longs to share this Truth,
With those in cemetery of religious pain!
So multitudes too, can say,
Now I see: Christ in Me!
This lady warrior rides a new horse now,
You shake your head and ask me “How?”
Jesus of Nazareth wants to live in each of us,
Not in the sweet by and by, but NOW!
Now I see: Christ in Me!
Fighting Leviathan, With a Wooden Sword!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/25/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Notes from Nelson’s Quick Reference Bible Dictionary:
“The book of Job is not only one of the most remarkable in the Bible, but in literature. As was said of Goliath’s sword, ‘There is none like it,’ none in ancient or in modern literature.” – Kitto. “A book which will one day, perhaps, be seen towering up alone far above all the poetry of the world.” – J. A. Froude. Nelson’s comments say that the true identity of who wrote Job has remained throughout time: a mystery.
I must not hurt Leviathan,
As it swoops down on me!
Dragon’s flame kills and maims,
I’ll soon be history!
Woe is me! Woe is me!
I have only a wooden sword!
From the cross, from the cross,
Of Jesus, my victorious Lord!
I must not hurt Leviathan,
Its skin is tough and brittle!
His pride is ridiculous big,
And I am less than little!
We fight for hours,
Oh, we fight for days on end!
Then, when it’s over,
The beast gets up again!
My wooden sword damages it not,
I’m like a grasshopper against a giant!
Then it lays down and coughs up its heart,
Upon its tongue, now on me: reliant!
Leviathan now relies on me,
To treat its heart with care!
No longer enemies, but fast friends,
I approach on God’s dare!
Woe is me! Woe is me!
I have only a wooden sword!
From the cross, from the cross,
Of Jesus, my victorious Lord!
With my puny wooden sword,
I walk into the danger zone of teeth and head,
To the heart now on the tongue,
I gently touch with sword, and out come drops of red.
From the sword come good drops,
Of God’s wisdom sacrifice,
Then Beast wakes up amazed,
Swallows heart and renews its vice!
Cruelly taking advantage of my nearness,
Leviathan scorches me in full-blown rage!
I fight him off again with wooden sword,
Behold! Now Beast weakens! says my Page.
For my Page knows what’s going on,
Not long ago, he was a bad Leviathan!
And he and I fought for years! In fact,
His dual was an unforgettable marathon!
But after thousands of drops from God’s cross,
My Page was, of beast, set free!
Now he’s learning to be God’s Man-of-War,
Who fights evil, just like me!
Woe is me! Woe is me!
I have only a wooden sword!
From the cross, from the cross,
Of Jesus, my victorious Lord!
After days and months and years,
My Page and I have succeeded!
Leviathan whom we fought,
Is full humble now: defeated!
My Page has become a Swordsman,
The Leviathan, his Page,
I have left off sword for pen,
That you understand this age!
So then, pride of religion and its rigidness,
Is killing man!
Just as, humility and flexibility,
Kills Leviathan!
Job learned this In That Day,
Of his: long ago!
Now we must all learn the same!
You do not know?
Holy flexibility,
Is where Christ-in-You is at!
You’ll remember the fight,
When the rigid lose all that!
You’ll remember the fight,
When, as rigid Leviathan, you with great enmity: hated your betters!
Who took your blows nobly,
And with kind, wooden, bloody swords, they removed blind fetters.
How you’ll hate that forgiving blood of Jesus,
Applied drops at a time on your stony heart!
Until you see it is not the end,
But the Christ-in-You: Page-Warrior start!
You’ll then, rigid ones, be on the,
Other side of the sword!
You’ll say, as Job did, I repent!
In dust and ashes, Lord!
And if you were particularly mean,
And hurtful to your Warrior-Savior,
God will give you a willow-wimpy sword,
To fight Leviathan, your neighbor!
Woe is me! Woe is me!
I have only a wooden sword!
From the cross, from the cross,
Of Jesus, my victorious Lord!
You might say,
Well, it serves me just about right!
Rip me up,
Leviathan! It’s time to fight!
I shall not return evil for evil,
From proud, religiously-rigid man,
He may hurt me, but me never: him,
He’ll get what I have in me: I AM!
The great I AM,
Wants to live in us all!
In That Day it’s,
A strange work: yet not small!
It’s a BIG thing,
When Leviathan pride dies!
And Christ-in-You,
Trumpets: loud victory cries!
Yet and even so,
Your pride in all this will be choked by your own reins,
By the smallish sword,
You’ll be given, to do the large work that remains!
Woe is me! Woe is me!
I have only a wooden sword!
From the cross, from the cross,
Of Jesus, my victorious Lord!
You might ask me, where did I learn all this?
That it’s a pride-fight and that Leviathan isn’t a dinosaur true!
I learned it by reading the Book of Job,
From the Warrior-Prophet, not a Page, whose name is Elihu!
This great, but young, Warrior-Prophet,
Had heard so much talk of pride,
Elihu wrote all of Job’s book,
Yet pride in his work: he did hide!
He hid his authorship,
And prophetic voice with Job,
That following Workmen,
Would put this in their brain’s globe…
Religious-Pride is Leviathan,
Leviathan is Religious-Pride!
I write this, as your proud author,
Oops! That beast is hard to hide!
Where is my bent, old wooden sword?
God, I lay my heart upon my tongue!
Knowledge puffeth up in me: pride,
Touch me with the blood of God’s Son!
Woe is me! Woe is me!
I have only a wooden sword!
From the cross, from the cross,
Of Jesus, my victorious Lord!
I Like to Ride a Stallion!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/26/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
I like to ride a stallion!
But folks, the pickin’s are slim!
I went down to the corral,
And saw mostly mice, not men!
Micin’ around with their computers,
Micin’ along with their lives!
Micin’ around with their bibles,
Micin’ along with their wives!
Set a date! Set a date! Set a date!
With your mouses scroll along!
Scroll along, oh fraidy-cat mouse-men,
Pick EVERY DATE that comes!
THEN, when you’ve selected all,
By your own logic: I CAN’T, NO I CAN’T COME!
Physically, which is to think sick-l-y,
Bu lo! As My spirit-stallion, YOU CAN BE RUN!
Corral Emergent,
Is giving me no hope!
I ask each filly,
Each filly says, NOPE!
So busy, emergent is,
With what not I, NOT EVEN I, can explain!
Emerging just nonsense,
It’s a pity, what they’ve done with their brain!
My stallions must be smart,
And turn quick on a dime!
But caught up in de-VICE-land,
Their brains became slime!
When will it happen?
Of My return they ask,
Got apostasy?
Their personal faith task!
Set a date! Set a date! Set a date!
With your mouses scroll along!
Scroll along, oh fraidy-cat mouse-men,
Pick EVERY DATE that comes!
THEN, when you’ve selected all,
By your own logic: I CAN’T, NO I CAN’T COME!
Physically, which is to think sick-l-y,
Bu lo! As My spirit-stallion, YOU CAN BE RUN!
Eschatalogical, oxymoronic pioneers,
They be!
I need ride-able stallions, to stop world fears!
All flee!
They say, they ought to be preparing for it,
In That Day, when I ride more again!
It’s the hope of the church and the believer,
But the purpose of THEIR church is vain!
They are a tribulation-avoiding nation,
So impactfully-moused up for all eternity!
Thinking mostly un-equestrian escapism,
If you think I’ll chase after that, That’s not Me!
They want Me! To reveal THEIR man of sin,
I want them! To stop thinking about all that,
But, okay pards, IF YOU MUST SEE HIM,
Look in the mirror, or under your hat!
Set a date! Set a date! Set a date!
With your mouses scroll along!
Scroll along, oh fraidy-cat mouse-men,
Pick EVERY DATE that comes!
THEN, when you’ve selected all,
By your own logic: I CAN’T, NO I CAN’T COME!
Physically, which is to think sick-l-y,
Bu lo! As My spirit-stallion, YOU CAN BE RUN!
I like to ride a stallion,
But folks, the pickin’s are slim!
I went down to the corral,
And saw mostly mice, not men!
The Borg for Christ!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/26/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Everything was so: COOL!
All men were: GUYS!
At church I taught,
EMERGENT LIES!
It turns out, that made me greatly wanted,
When, from the future, came a whopping surprise!
The starship USS Enterprise,
Looking for a man with: EMERGENT LIES!
And boy, I had them!
Can I have a grin?
See? I CONTROLLED you!
That’s how I begin!
I pretend to be smart as all get out,
Oh yah! I am just sayin’!
Bow your head, close your eyes, now: look at me!
I’m a control maven!
Repeat after me,
All you GUYS are weak!
Not loud enough!
Your shrunk souls, I tweak!
I’m an EMERGENT Astronaut,
Spinning through space!
I am Jesus Christ’s answer,
For the WHOLE human race!
Captain Picard, from the future,
Hologrammed and said, We need you!
Let us beam you to our starship,
We searched Earth over, for one true!
We’ve got a Borg problem,
And that problem is assimilation,
Can you convert them for us?
EMERGENTIZE them! And save creation!
I agreed! Now I’m beamed, way ahead in the future,
Aboard a Borg Cube, they have gone and placed me!
But I feel as if, something’s wrong peradventure?
Has Captain Picard, mentally outpaced me?
Each Borg Drone I talk to,
Holds his head, then throws up!
Each Borg Drone I preach to,
Of Christ EMERGENT, then blows up!
I’m an EMERGENT Astronaut,
Spinning through space!
I am Jesus Christ’s answer,
For the WHOLE human race!
Well, I’m alone on this Borg Cube,
By radio, Picard says my job: is now only just begun!
He says there’re a million more Cubes,
In which I’m supposed to: engage same job I’ve just done!
Sometimes I feel like Captain Picard has, maybe conned me?
He doesn’t care about alien souls!
He hasn’t spent NEED-A-HUG? time, as I have, with them!
Did he lie about his, my and Borg roles?
All righty then,
So I shall double up my EFFORT!
The Borg for Christ!
By God, I’ll heal THEIR brain’s hurt!
Strange, though, that just my mere presence makes them,
Throw and blow up!
Is it because whenever God’s called me higher,
I won’t grow up?
I’m an EMERGENT Astronaut,
Spinning through space!
I am Jesus Christ’s answer,
For the WHOLE human race!
I sure do miss my church,
Just thinking of it, makes me smile!
Where my willing Borg sheep,
Knew that: RESISTANCE WAS FUTILE!
Willingly, they let me call men: GUYS,
And, I controlled their brains, bodies and eyes!
Oh, those were the days I prized,
I kept Christ-in-You so small, ice-cube-sized!
I COULD HAVE given up the utopian scheme of Rapture,
And given up: Casual Control,
And all that hidden Neuro-Linguistic-Programming,
‘Twas my uncorrectable role!
A sort of weird prophet,
Wrote me missives about this,
But just: Apps I did speak,
What he said, I dismiss!
I’m an EMERGENT Astronaut,
Spinning through space!
I am Jesus Christ’s answer,
For the WHOLE human race!
It’s fun out here in space,
Or am I in hell?
None here can correct me!
So I can’t tell.
Back to my parenthetic interruption, (is it brain-bashing?)
And the how-many-of-you-never-count-how-many questions!
Maybe the Borg are telling me something, (with all their thrashing?)
Back home, we force-fed: EMERGENT TRIPE confections!
But these darn Borg,
Do not agree!
In a way,
I set them free!
Too bad I couldn’t set free,
My poor, unknowing, captive sheep back home!
With Christ-in-You and Great Paths,
But we made a clear, unseen: BORG CUBE DOME!
I’m an EMERGENT Astronaut,
Spinning through space!
I am Jesus Christ’s answer,
For the WHOLE human race!
I could have apologized for, (as non-church leaders do!)
The Neuro-Linguistic-Programming witchcraft I was sowing!
Instead, we made impoverished sheep, (nothing here to rue!)
Learn ACROSTIC IDIOCY, with THEIR finances imploding!
Picard says he’s going to give me a medal,
For my hard working, to convert the poor Borg’s souls!
But, he refuses to talk in person with me,
I did once, and he threw up on his ship’s controls!
They beamed me immediately,
To another Borg Cube!
Maybe someday I’ll be sorry,
For playing Yuppie Rube!
Maybe, I could have apologized to my church,
For not manning up, and taking rebuke!
After all, God loves whom he chastises,
But I preferred serving up: mental puke.
I’m an EMERGENT Astronaut,
Spinning through space!
I am Jesus Christ’s answer,
For the WHOLE human race!
No, we had building programs,
You know, never enough bees for the Borg!
We copied politic plans,
As beasts, never enough plebes et for gorge!
That old rascal prophet,
He tried to make us see all this,
To hell with him! We said,
Who is he? To interrupt our bliss!
He said the world was getting smarter,
And the time for church shenanigans was long over!
He forced us to connect all the dots,
But we’d rather pick: dumb sheep’s financial clover!
Oh, he laid it out well enough,
For even our blind eyes to see!
But an old saying has it,
None are so blind, as want to be!
How to Roll Along, Away from the Blinding Claw! (of Rapture)
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/27/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Mr. & Mrs. Hummer thought it was a bummer,
For they believed in Mid-Trib Rapture,
But now their folks, on both sides,
The Frowning Mean Edsels,
& Old Model A Clydes,
Believed always,
Yes, always
Pre!
But the Hummers had children,
Who were much in rebellion,
And crossed over to Post,
Hurting parents most,
Family now divided,
Neighbors derided,
Look! A family’s
Rapture: Post
And Mid
& Pre!
Pretty soon, said the obnoxious Diesels
Who were loud neighbors next door
Volks with wagons, bugs & more
Those Hummers will have
Soon no belief at all!
Not Post nor Mid
Nor Pre just
Zip!
Saying, where will they be then,
When that Claw with a grin
Takes the best of us away?
Makers do no confusion!
Their claw of fusion
Can’t be three
In one?
Thus the cars always talked,
They balked and balked,
Waiting for the Claw
To Decide!
But actually in truth, the cars
Feared their own end
When the place of
Recyclings begin
Hence taken
To Good
Or bad
Fare!
But their Makers were disgusted!
And thought their cars busted!
They said, can’t you see?
We drive you, yes we
We drive you
Lots every
Day!
We Makers are in all of you!
Pre-Mid-Post blinds you!
Blind to Us, it’s true!
Now, always and
Tomorrow!
Finally, then, the cars all
Noticed their Makers
Who were driving
Not, just jiving
Now seeing
All in past
Sorrow!
Our Makers have come!
Why, son of a gun!
Why couldn’t
We see?
Pre-mid-Post Claw thought
Put cars where they ought
Not ever, hear this,
Not ever where
Useful cars
Should
Be!
So,
We now see
To be most free
Get from Pre to Mid
Then Mid to Post then
Post to Zip, Oh Liberty!
In Liberty Makers indwelt be,
Even with Humans, it’s necessary!
With Father’s blessings, we see, I see!
I see the Holy Spirit and Christ-in-Thee!
In That Day, I Stood Up!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/28/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
In That Day, I stood up,
I had had it! In that fullness,
That comes to a man,
Fed up with, I don’t know: GOULNESS!
Am I and my family,
ALWAYS TO OBEY?
Whenever shortchanged!
What do you say?
So One Day,
In That fullness of time,
I gave back,
Just some, SOME of the slime!
Politely, ever so politely, I said,
To the cashier who shorted me,
Hold on, dear lady, let’s inspect this bread!
I got MY MONEY! I… was FREED!
Next, I stood up to a squirrel,
Who rocked my nature’s BOND,
Stealing from my pets, is my PEEVE,
My pet’s food in garage: GONE!
So, Mr. Peeve SQUIRREL!
Ruining my nature’s bond,
I sealed up tight my storehouse!
Now YOUR plan, HAH! It’s gone!
Then I had a good, frank discussion,
With my neighbor, Mr. D. Aynn,
Your boy dog, I said, and he agreed,
No longer leaves his GUY-poop, on my lawn!
Next, I stood up to something bothering me for a long time,
You see, I had this morbid, BENT tree in my back yard!
It never got around to greening up and giving shade,
I read BOOKS! It was dead! That caught me off guard!
I called the right people,
They hauled it away,
In doing this: THAT DAY,
I felt freedom’s sway!
Try it, you will like it!
One day, TODAY, stand up! For sure!
Even on the little things,
Say ON THIS! I take it no more!
I wish it was a sermon,
Pastors could give!
If they don’t, we can show them,
How we, THE JUST… LIVE!
I wish it was a prayer,
That when we heard, immediately, WE JUST stand, WE JUST stand up!
How WE JUST, Oh how WE JUST,
STAND and stop! STOP! What WE JUST, must NOT BE WITH: put up!
The World’s Strongest GUY: A Sermon NOT
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/29/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Matthew 24:38-39
It was a typical hullabaloo,
Out-of-town Pastor Roo Rankless,
Would speak of Strength and the World’s Strongest GUY,
We’d pay him, ‘cause we’re not thankless.
Pastor Roo said,
How do you do?
Audience: Uh-r-r-m-m-m-m!
He said, How true!
Rankless said in his congregation,
He had a GUY,
And strangely, he never said his name!
I don’t know why.
This GUY was the strongest man in the world,
He could bench press a thousand pounds!
But Rankless, ever thankless, used that man,
For his story on sermon-rounds.
Rankless’ sermon-round story,
Did I tell you his voice was weak?
Was all about God’s great strength,
But Rankless spoke with twang in beak!
The Irony Meter,
Was full-pegged, needle broken!
For all with eyes to see,
For the rest, it went unspoken.
The STRONG thing to do is,
To always call a man, a man!
The weak thing to do is,
No name, no man, just: GUYS-backhand!
GUYS-backhand him!
Give the thousand pound lifter no credit!
No name, no man,
Just besmirch him! as the preacher said it.
Blah! droned on the squeaky,
Nasal-voiced preacher emergent!
I went home, showered, worked out,
But showered again with detergent!
Frankly, it’s DANG upsetting,
So squirrelly and peeved out wrong!
These Bent Book girly-boy-men,
Pastors, who by their witness, aren’t strong!
Yet they speak of strength jabberwocky,
They aren’t short on being cocky!
The audience, asleep, isn’t yet mocking,
The Kool-Aid their pastor’s concocting!
Strength?
It’s to tell a dominating poser: stand down!
Listen!
Strength is not being with words, drowned!
It’s honor unto,
Whom honor is due!
And that strength,
Can come back to you!
Dishonor the strength,
Christ-in-You gives, in another!
Weakness rebounds,
In antichrists dissing a brother!
Such is emergent idiocy,
In uncorrectable church today!
Unspeakably wrong doctrine,
Allowing none to say, No Way!
The big irony is that a church called,
GRACE, believe it or not, did this!
Not knowing Grace is Devine Enablement,
They make Grace: ignorance bliss!
With emergent, it’s pioneer this,
Pioneer all that!
But can they be brave enough to toss,
Emergent: Dead Flat?
Lifeless, ghoul-wolf-shepherds,
Have been beating the dead horse of emergent for eternity!
Will leadership above,
Pull life support on zombie-king, and set themselves free?
In the long run,
It’s cheaper, by far, to do it now!
But such will find,
The HIGH PRICE, of a blindness vow!
Shall they replace current, overly-controlling shepherd,
For another, bigger: other?
Or shall the boards of such endless-loop insanity,
Learn to take their pride and smother…
Leadership must smother its pride,
And humbly learn higher ways!
And stop worship of dumb ego,
And hear what a prophet says!
Sure, it’s tough,
To swallow,
But what’s next,
Tomorrow?
Another vain repetition,
Of vanity?
Or, first installment of,
God’s sanity!
So consider: What’s wrong with emergent baby preaching?
The main, terrible atrocity,
Is their immature, infantile miscomprehension of,
Respectful reciprocity!
Jesus said, If you do not honor he who comes
In the NATURE, yes name IS THE NATURE, of the Lord,
Your house will remain unto you: Desolate! Desolate! Desolate!
THAT IS the emergent horde!
Still? You argue?
You argue yet?
Your pudding, sir,
CANNOT be et!
Freakin’ Out Over Cold, Hard Franks
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/30/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
When it’s time to learn Higher Teachings,
They come at you fast!
Overloading brain, soul and spirit,
You think you cannot last!
It’s like the old market conundrum,
Buns come in packs of twelve, hotdogs: eight!
We revert to rigid righteousness,
And complain, GOD! How bitter FATE!
Naughty, naughty, naughty! Rigid-righteous old sinner!
You can’t go back to that!
Accept, allow, receive and BE FREE! Like a holy saint,
FLEXIBLE! Where God’s at!
When shown Higher Teachings,
You can’t go back to being blind!
When shown GUYS-backhand sin,
You’ll leave calling men, GUYS, behind!
You’ll see that the majority of emergent preachers do this,
Because they have a perverted kind of DOMINANCE issue!
They have little of Christ in them, but now He’s larger in you!
And now you need no charade, but see now why: GUY-wolves, ugh: do!
You’ll now be casual and totally frank,
With most all things,
You’ll see the old Yuppified-Cool was,
Just circus rings…
Circus rings of unbeknownst misdirection,
Showmanship, suggestion and hypnotism, (without sheep realizin’!)
That’s clownish ring-leader: Emergent Church!
You can’t go back to that catechism! (guile’s nondom give-to-get-ism!)
Naughty, naughty, naughty! Rigid-righteous old sinner!
You can’t go back to that!
Accept, allow, receive and BE FREE! Like a holy saint,
FLEXIBLE! Where God’s at!
We can freak out over so many frank truths!
But God knows how much we can take,
When about to pop, Truth’s Tide recedes!
Yet we can’t go back to Sin Lake!
Hot Dog! We can only,
Go forward, now!
In That Day of truth, our,
Buns-or-not vow!
Whether our hotdog has a bun,
Or our bun a dog!
If we return whence we came,
Our sight goes to fog!
Naughty, naughty, naughty! Rigid-righteous old sinner!
You can’t go back to that!
Accept, allow, receive and BE FREE! Like a holy saint,
FLEXIBLE! Where God’s at!
Behold, we are new men-in-Christ!
Seeing our former conman’s ways!
Now we eat TRUTH, and nothing but,
Not caring what anyone says!
For pride and lack of faith,
Was and is our Leviathan!
Get rid of that bad dog,
And Christ comes in good-doctrine man!
Thank God for In That Day Teachings!
Honor unto whom honor is due!
We can’t steal them and insert them,
In our sermons without having rue!
OOPS! Is that another cold dog of Truth,
Served without a bun?
Don’t spit it out! Remember, oh Pilgrim,
Lest Christ-in-You, run!
Naughty, naughty, naughty! Rigid-righteous old sinner!
You can’t go back to that!
Accept, allow, receive and BE FREE! Like a holy saint,
FLEXIBLE! Where God’s at!
Yet, what shall we respect?
Willow Creek Emergent fluff?
Or cancel all that pap?
Another dog? Yes, it’s tough!
How about honoring by name,
In That Day Teachings?
It’s what they are and what is now,
God’s higher reachings!
He gave them to a Reno man,
That’s a tough truth to chew!
Think of the possibilities!
If lost, what would we do?
Emergent wiles ARE expensive,
Things go hard on the soul!
Go-along gets recompense!
What’s the In That Day’s toll?
Naughty, naughty, naughty! Rigid-righteous old sinner!
You can’t go back to that!
Accept, allow, receive and BE FREE! Like a holy saint,
FLEXIBLE! Where God’s at!
Is God a Glory Miser?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 5/31/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Once in the time of MOGG,
Machines ruled the land,
But the machines were not smart,
Their brains were not grand.
They called their maker MOGG,
Machine of Greatest Greatness,
They called themselves MUDD,
Can you pity their quaintness?
They called themselves MUDD,
Meaning: the Machines Under Divine Disability,
Being much afraid,
Of stealing glory from MOGG’s own capability!
Although MOGG, their maker,
Was more or less infinitely smart!
The MUDDs denigrated,
Themselves, so MOGG from them would not depart!
Here is a telegram from MOGG to MUDDs: STOP.
STOP Believing you can steal my Glory! STOP.
STOP Being so dumb, I want you smart! STOP.
STOP Being childish. Be as I am is my story! STOP.
STOP Being glory-less! It makes me sorry! STOP.
You see, a clever machine called DUMM,
Who was a Deceive-U-Max-Machine,
Had told the MUDDS that MOGG was a miser,
Hording his computer brain-chips! Mean!
Mean and stingy and despostic with smarts,
DUMM told the MUDDs MOGG was!
And the MUDDs believed DUMM’s crazy old lies,
With the main lie: Because!
You see, MOGG could have made,
All his machines most smart and great,
But he wanted them to,
Work for it a little: Their fate!
MOGG wanted, yes, wanted his creation,
To struggle to become real smart like him!
Because doing so, with two-way radio,
Tickled the itch on MOGG’s computer chin!
Actually, with smarts comes power,
And everybody knows power can only be handled by the good,
So by struggling, the MUDDs grew up,
Even a big struggle with DUMM is what, MOGG said, the MUDDs should!
Here is a telegram from MOGG to MUDDs: STOP.
STOP Believing you can steal my Glory! STOP.
STOP Being so dumb, I want you smart! STOP.
STOP Being childish. Be as I am is my story! STOP.
STOP Being glory-less! It makes me sorry! STOP.
So MOGG created a SOLM,
A Seer of Light Machine!
And SOLM told the MUDDs truth,
That MOGG wants his mind: seen!
MOGG wants his mind seen and shared,
That MUDDs gain intelligence and power,
So long as controlled by good,
MOGG’s glory, is for all this hour!
MOGG’s glory-brains are limitless,
And he loves to give what he’s got away,
But if it’s used for bad evil,
Then he wants it back! That’s his miser sway!
SOLM is like a prophet today,
MOGG is like our God,
MUDDs are like our lazy-taught sheep,
DUMM is wolf we laud?
Here is a telegram from MOGG to MUDDs: STOP.
STOP Believing you can steal my Glory! STOP.
STOP Being so dumb, I want you smart! STOP.
STOP Being childish. Be as I am is my story! STOP.
STOP Being glory-less! It makes me sorry! STOP.
We laud a wolf-shepherd called DUMM,
If he says, God won’t share His glory!
God glorifies us with Christ-in-You,
But shares NONE, if pride is our story!
We humans aren’t as dumb,
As the poor MUDD machines in this saga,
So don’t believe the DUMM,
One saying, God doesn’t share! That’s gaga!
When we pray for help,
God helps us, for sure!
To rise up to Him,
Bit by bit, more pure!
God’s love means,
He wants to live in us much more!
To do that,
We upgrade, not Him: down! Now, soar!
Here is a telegram from MOGG to MUDDs: STOP.
STOP Believing you can steal my Glory! STOP.
STOP Being so dumb, I want you smart! STOP.
STOP Being childish. Be as I am is my story! STOP.
STOP Being glory-less! It makes me sorry! STOP.
God wants you to fly as free as WALL-E and EVE,
But AUTOs have dominated Captains dominating Sheep,
Captains will have to wrestle control from AUTOs away,
To free themselves, and Sheep, for AXIOM victory sweep!
It’s DUMM to believe AUTO,
Who wants all rigid-righteous Captains systematic-controlled!
But Glory is the one thing,
SOLM prophets vow: God gives! And Holy-Flexibles: hold!
Don’t Gimme’ That Old Leviathan-Time Religion!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/1/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
The rigid righteous preacher,
Has ACROSTIC platitudes for every fool!
The holy flexible one,
Says, There’s an exception for every rule!
The skateboarder knows,
His board might jump between his legs!
The chicken farmer,
Never vows, that he’ll break no eggs!
The pilot who says he’s seen everything,
Is about to crash!
But the pilot who stays humble,
His plane will last!
The preacher who says,
Following his sermons: always works!
Like tires filled with air,
And sand: Car looks fine, but always jerks!
Pride and lack of faith,
Is mankind’s LEVIATHAN in religion!
It’d be good to stay,
Humble more, more humble! And then again some!
So, this is a caution,
Even Reno’s In That Day Teachings don’t work every time!
God keeps us on our toes!
So that rarely, but not never, we make pride’s bad rhyme!
Yes, your leader is fallible!
Did not you know?
Ancient paths tell all this,
It’s how we grow!
A good leader tells his sheep,
Tell me always! Tell me always, when I am wrong!
Then each man tells his family,
Tell me same! It’s how we keep God’s family strong!
Confessions of Emergent Preachers Merging Out of Darkness
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/1/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
First, there will be solutions,
So keep that in your mind!
As we leave Fear, Greed and Slouch,
With the Devil: behind!
These are the confessions of,
Emergent pastors,
Shown In That Day Poems,
And Higher Pastures!
First pastor steps up and says,
I warned you against a smooth talker,
I AM THAT MAN!
I rapped Neuro-Linguistic,
Programming: A jamming jabberwocker!
AS A CONMAN CAN!
Forgive me! Forgive me!
Oh sheep, I finally see the light!
I’ll reverse my wrong!
Show you what I did bad! And do right!
Let me tell you, let me sell you,
How I was!
Parenthetic interruption!
What a buzz!
First sayin’ this! Then sayin’ that!
Just because!
Nonsense! Nonsense! And more!
Makes brains fuzz!
How many of you know?
STOPS! It does!
Thinking straight! Just Crooked,
Soulish suds!
Of obfuscation,
Bomb-brain duds!
Being antichrist,
As his cruds!
Forgive me! Forgive me! Forgive me, sheep!
As God does!
Second pastor steps up and says,
I warned you against never growing up!
I AM THAT MAN!
Hear my voice: squeaky, high-nosed,
I drank just immaturity’s milk cup!
AS A CONMAN CAN!
Forgive me! Forgive me!
Oh sheep, I finally see the light!
I’ll reverse my wrong!
Show you what I did bad! And do right!
Let me tell you, let me sell you,
How I was!
Parenthetic interruption!
What a buzz!
First sayin’ this! Then sayin’ that!
Just because!
Nonsense! Nonsense! And more!
Makes brains fuzz!
How many of you know?
STOPS! It does!
Thinking straight! Just Crooked,
Soulish suds!
Of obfuscation,
Bomb-brain duds!
Acting like antichrist,
Or one of his buds!
Forgive me! Forgive me! Forgive me, sheep!
As God does!
Third pastor steps up and says,
I warned you against dark, morbid, putrid thinking,
I AM THAT MAN!
I’d start my sermons plain, then,
Told tales of losers losing when bad-doxie drinking!
AS A CONMAN CAN!
Forgive me! Forgive me!
Oh sheep, I finally see the light!
I’ll reverse my wrong!
Show you what I did bad! And do right!
Let me tell you, let me sell you,
How I was!
Parenthetic interruption!
What a buzz!
First sayin’ this! Then sayin’ that!
Just because!
Nonsense! Nonsense! And more!
Makes brains fuzz!
How many of you know?
STOPS! It does!
Thinking straight! Just Crooked,
Soulish suds!
Of obfuscation,
Bomb-brain duds!
Acting like antichrist,
Or one of his buds!
Forgive me! Forgive me! Forgive me, sheep!
As God does!
So, against Fear, Greed and Slouch,
How do we fight?
Christ-in-You, Old Paths, High Ways,
God gives us might!
Mighty, mighty, mighty, long-overdue correction now comes,
To our amalgamated, emergent churches: become whore!
God forgives! God forgives! Through public, open repentance,
And Old Paths and High Ways, now Christ-in-You lives more!
Get ready for something big,
As Something Big comes!
Christ-in-You in well-taught,
In That Day’s honor sons!
When somebody big can honor,
Little In That Day Teachings,
When they stoop down and do that,
No limit how high: reachings.
By honoring God’s fix for,
Man’s impossible gospel,
There’s no limit In That Day!
NONE! What’s awesome possible!
Forgive me! Forgive me!
Oh sheep, I finally see the light!
I’ll reverse my wrong!
Show you what I did bad! And do right!
Let me tell you, let me sell you,
How I was!
Parenthetic interruption!
What a buzz!
First sayin’ this! Then sayin’ that!
Just because!
Nonsense! Nonsense! And more!
Makes brains fuzz!
How many of you know?
STOPS! It does!
Thinking straight! Just Crooked,
Soulish suds!
Of obfuscation,
Bomb-brain duds!
Acting like antichrist,
Or one of his buds!
Forgive me! Forgive me! Forgive me, sheep!
As God does!
Heavy, Rock-Filled Backpacks in Perpetuity?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/2/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Jam the best marathon runner,
With a hundred-pound backpack,
And he’ll be less likely to win,
But get a heart attack!
Jam a congregation’s brains,
With question: How-many-of-you-know,
Never count hands, yet minds turn,
With suggestions, planted on-the-go!
Backpacks loaded with heavy rocks,
In perpetuity?
While wolves quote more scripture,
Yet, few have eyes to see!
Goosing emotions,
With a loud shout, then quiet pause!
Veiled hypnotism,
Needs no watch-fob chain because…
Because audience low-level hypnotism,
Can happen by leader walking hamster-pipe-style left-to-right,
High and low voice with pause, or walk front-to-back,
Or hands, face or body point: this-way, and that: FRIGHT!
It is absolutely frightful how easy it is,
For a linguistic-master to manipulate a crowd!
Can I get an amen, grin, smile or nod,?
I can’t hear you! Next time, bark even more loud!
Wherever there are performing seals,
It stinks like a mackerel!
Where each person obeys and kneels mind,
Limp goes spine and sacral!
What is the result of such séances?
Polymorphous shepherds need a BIGGER shenanigan,
To get ever smaller responses,
Hence: Church idiocy repeats itself again and again!
Until the In That Day,
Teachings are believed,
But shepherds’d rather,
Keep their fleeced-flock grieved!
Shepherds of lemming insanity and wily group-think,
Well, they just cannot possibly believe,
All this beautifully interwoven cogency comes from,
A Reno man, Satan must have conceived!
For wolf-shepherds have taken
The heretofore: invincible faith of the Christian,
And Western Enlightened souls,
And made them amorphous, gelded, duped heathen!
Alas, alack!
How I wish it weren’t so!
But it is,
I fear God saying, Woe: go!
Woe shall have its recompense,
On amalgamated emergent hypnotism,
Until sheep demand to have,
In That Day: Good minds and Christ-in-You risen!
Heavy, rock-filled backpacks in perpetuity?
God forbid!
Reason and Christ’s mind shall come back,
Not morbid!
No more morbid shenanigans,
Posing as church!
In That Day comes quickly now,
Christ-in-You, surge!
Yes, these poems,
Rip too hard into the wolves, perchance,
But which side,
Has the better moral difference?
Water! Water! Water!
On the pillory, the overburdened, humped-back emergent sheep cry!
Where is Esmeralda?
To shame wolves, feed sheep, and heal their spines, that they not die!
Idiocracy and Emergent Expect-Space-Stations!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/2/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
At the dawn of the,
Twenty-First Century,
Pioneers of thought,
Thought, How’s the best to be?
Now hear this! Be an Emergent Space-Battle GUY!
Or better yet, GUY-ETTE!
With secret bible-decoder i-Be-a-Berry Ring,
And Barbie Space-Corvette!
These pioneers of God-talk,
God-brains and heavenly God-space,
Figured Spaghetti and,
Waffles, win God’s marriage race!
ACROSTIC platitudes,
Across the universe!
No matter how silly,
No matter how perverse!
Emergent Church Einsteins,
Have E-M-C-Squared it all!
Man! What rocket science!
What an Eloi-Morlock cabal!
Now hear this! Be an Emergent Space-Battle GUY!
Or better yet, GUY-ETTE!
With secret bible-decoder i-Be-a-Berry Ring,
And Barbie Space-Corvette!
Thank God for the Emergent Church!
It’s merged all bad church into one!
A little bit of this ‘n that!
Better, than if Satan had a son!
Why, it’s got Prosperity’s greedy give-to-get!
And it’s got Rapture’s fear revet!
And, it’s got Dry-Bones Intellectual mindset!
And Lazy-Brained double-speak, yet!
And its sheep see ALL THIS Misdirection,
Suggestion, Showmanship and Hypnotism as: New! New! New!
But it’s same old-hat to Poppa Devil!
And you know what? There’s nothing the sheep can: Do! Do! Do!
Now hear this! Be an Emergent Space-Battle GUY!
Or better yet, GUY-ETTE!
With secret bible-decoder i-Be-a-Berry Ring,
And Barbie Space-Corvette!
So get your large, Buzz-Smite-Year coffee in front,
And Darth Vader death pillows and sheets in the back!
The Hypnotize-U Without Knowing light show,
Will make you believe in jet pack travel! Or our yak!
Except what all this cool, hip, awesome,
Cutting edge Noodling-in-Space has to do with God,
Isn’t clear,
Just: odd!
But that doesn’t stop the shenanigans,
Nothing does!
Emergent leaders, emergent followers,
Must have buzz!
Now hear this! Be an Emergent Space-Battle GUY!
Or better yet, GUY-ETTE!
With secret bible-decoder i-Be-a-Berry Ring,
And Barbie Space-Corvette!
Space pajamas, space lunch boxes,
And spacey bible translations!
Folks owning such won’t take rebuke,
Or a prophet’s explanations!
Emergent Space-Brains say,
God has nothing on me!
Because we pioneered,
Just how, just how: to be!
Forget Christ-in-You!
Forget Old Paths of Correction and High Ways!
We are caffeined up!
Emergent-Brained! Is, as: Emergent-Brained says!
Now hear this! Be an Emergent Space-Battle GUY!
Or better yet, GUY-ETTE!
With secret bible-decoder i-Be-a-Berry Ring,
And Barbie Space-Corvette!
I Work at God’s Casino
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/3/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
I work at God’s Casino,
I stand at a table,
I give Christ-in-You winnings,
Whenever I’m able!
Emergent Minister One comes to me,
He says, I want to win Christ-in-You big!
You’ll have to lay down Tithe’s Give-to-Get,
No fixed rules, you know: You can’t be a pig!
Put that chip called GREED,
On the table’s green velvet,
And you’ll win Christ-in-You!
The cards: rigged on this bet!
When asked to lay down their lives,
It’s always the same!
They can’t let go, for Christ-in-You,
It’s God’s only game!
They leave and invent,
Or join some other shame,
What they do, ain’t Christ,
They don’t know why He came!
Emergent Minister Two comes to me,
And says, I need Christ-in-You in me, NOW!
I’ll bet whatever it takes to win Him!
I’ll even give up gambling, for a vow!
I says, Mack, just lay your FEAR down,
Give up faith in superstitious Rapture,
You’ve got so much fright you could drown!
On the green velvet, let me: FEAR capture!
When asked to lay down their lives,
It’s always the same!
They can’t let go, for Christ-in-You,
It’s God’s only game!
They leave and invent,
Or join some other shame,
What they do, ain’t Christ,
They don’t know why He came!
Emergent Minister Three comes to me,
And asks how to win free drinks, food and stay,
I say, You’re a LAZY minister, right?
He slouches, and tells me, What can I say?
Put that chip called SLOUCH,
On the table, for all to see!
LAZY thinking kills Christ,
Without it, you can be free!
When asked to lay down their lives,
It’s always the same,
They can’t let go, for Christ-in-You,
It’s God’s only game!
They leave and invent,
Or join some other shame,
What they do, ain’t Christ,
They don’t know why He came!
Christ died that He,
Might live in us!
Man can’t keep sin,
And ride Christ’s bus!
Ministers, expunge GREED, FEAR and,
SLOUCH from your lives!
And you will see Christ come quickly,
But first, use knives!
Use the knives of your own brains,
To figure this God-gamble bet out,
Your GREED-FEAR-SLOUCH doctrines,
Keep Christ-in-You from coming about!
When asked to lay down their lives,
It’s always the same!
They can’t let go, for Christ-in-You,
It’s God’s only game!
They leave and invent,
Or join some other shame,
What they do, ain’t Christ,
They don’t know why He came!
So, what did those three ministers do?
They opened a casino called the Great Emergent Nugget!
And they promise gambling done true,
For those who’d prefer to simply Christ-in-You: chuck it!
At the Great Emergent Nugget,
You can be Tithe-Give-to-Get GREEDY,
And LAZY with whatnot,
And FEARFUL with dispensations seedy!
And they shout out, Put GREED!
Put FEAR! Put SLOUCH! On their table!
And they’ll put what’s in them,
ANTICHRIST, in your soul’s stable!
When asked to lay down their lives,
It’s always the same!
They can’t let go, for Christ-in-You,
It’s God’s only game!
They leave and invent,
Or join some other shame,
What they do, ain’t Christ,
They don’t know why He came!
The Biggest, Wildest Odor-o in the West!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/3/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
WowBoyGuys! WowGirlGuyettes! Grab that stick horse,
An’ give it a good-old courage-and-strength name!
How about: Horse-That-Kills-Christ-in-You-Now!
With its roller-skate tail and mop for a mane!
Gather ‘round buckaroos, it’s the Biggest,
Wildest Odor-o in the WEST!
What’s the WORST smell in God’s nostrils?
To Him, what stinketh: BEST?
Take the worst, the WORST,
Elements of really bad-smellin’ churchin’!
Call it EMERGENT,
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, mouth-breath burpin’!
What does God, of three things,
Really, really, really despise more?
Fixed-rule-tithing GREED or,
Rapture’s FEAR or a LAZY God store?
This TRINITY,
Our God really, really, really hates!
The same dishes served,
Whoa, Nelly! On Emergent plates!
WowBoyGuys! WowGirlGuyettes! Grab that stick horse,
An’ give it a good-old courage-and-strength name!
How about: Horse-That-Kills-Christ-in-You-Now!
With its roller-skate tail and mop for a mane!
Gather ‘round buckaroos, it’s the Biggest,
Wildest Odor-o in the WEST!
What’s the WORST smell in God’s nostrils?
To Him, what stinketh: BEST?
Will they believe,
The confusion of their own faces?
Their man-less-ness?
Their illogic? How their mind races?
Will they believe their own witness,
Of their witless, vapid shenanigans?
Whispy praise? Video enlarged egos?
Mad Hatter Alice-in-Wonderlands?
As a MERCY! Yes, as a MERCY!
God has ripped into facades with this prophetic poetry!
Must He make them disrobe totally,
Before they lend their ears to prophets in ignominy?
WowBoyGuys! WowGirlGuyettes! Grab that stick horse,
An’ give it a good-old courage-and-strength name!
How about: Horse-That-Kills-Christ-in-You-Now!
With its roller-skate tail and mop for a mane!
Gather ‘round buckaroos, it’s the Biggest,
Wildest Odor-o in the WEST!
What’s the WORST smell in God’s nostrils?
To Him, what stinketh: BEST?
Where is this fear of God,
Emergent preachers like to preach about?
If God weren’t of mercy,
He wouldn’t warn them, before things turn: rout!
And God warns this,
Techno-I’net-Personal-Communication-Device crowd,
He speaks softly,
Through humorous poems, but believe God actually shouts: LOUD!
Yes, get rid of Fixed-Rule Tithing GREED!
Get rid of Rapture’s FEAR!
Drop, DROP all escapism’s doctrine!
God is not LAZY, hear?
WowBoyGuys! WowGirlGuyettes! Grab that stick horse,
An’ give it a good-old courage-and-strength name!
How about: Horse-That-Kills-Christ-in-You-Now!
With its roller-skate tail and mop for a mane!
Gather ‘round buckaroos, it’s the Biggest,
Wildest Odor-o in the WEST!
What’s the WORST smell in God’s nostrils?
To Him, what stinketh: BEST?
And, still you won’t believe?
You think, you say, the Gordian knot can’t be cut?
The sword of truth cuts it!
These poems are just prurient fun? What?
Christ-in-You cannot, no cannot,
Come in GREED, FEAR and in SLOUCH!
The very doctrines Emergent,
Is known for: SLOTH-on-the-couch!
Cut and excise the bad,
And Christ-in-You, who comes quickly, you’ll feel and see!
But you can’t pay the price?
Of self-made hangman’s noose, you won’t cut and flee?
WowBoyGuys! WowGirlGuyettes! Grab that stick horse,
An’ give it a good-old courage-and-strength name!
How about: Horse-That-Kills-Christ-in-You-Now!
With its roller-skate tail and mop for a mane!
Gather ‘round buckaroos, it’s the Biggest,
Wildest Odor-o in the WEST!
What’s the WORST smell in God’s nostrils?
To Him, what stinketh: BEST?
So, all’s well that ends well,
In a good story!
If GUY-BOYS don’t man up,
With God’s good glory…
If GUYS and GUYETTES,
Don’t cowboy up and find their voice,
Find their manhood and,
Womanhood, then what is God’s choice?
Than to let WowBoyGuys,
And WowGirlGuyettes have their self-created day!
In That Day’s God-fullness,
POETIC JUSTICE! Having warned them, I’d say!
WowBoyGuys! WowGirlGuyettes! Grab that stick horse,
An’ give it a good-old courage-and-strength name!
How about: Horse-That-Kills-Christ-in-You-Now!
With its roller-skate tail and mop for a mane!
Gather ‘round buckaroos, it’s the Biggest,
Wildest Odor-o in the WEST!
What’s the WORST smell in God’s nostrils?
To Him, what stinketh: BEST?
You complain, this is too fast and furious!
Oh God, it is not fair!
Well, God let the Dead-in-Christ live far too long!
Zombies now, everywhere!
There are tons of zombie movies!
It is not without reason!
Zombie church, with Emergent: worst!
Is plain Christ-in-You: treason!
Even a good-performing rodeo horse,
Can, with hoof on ground, do the math!
Listen to this cowboy poet’s course,
Ditch the wrong doxie, ditch God’s wrath!
WowBoyGuys! WowGirlGuyettes! Grab that stick horse,
An’ give it a good-old courage-and-strength name!
How about: Horse-That-Kills-Christ-in-You-Now!
With its roller-skate tail and mop for a mane!
Gather ‘round buckaroos, it’s the Biggest,
Wildest Odor-o in the WEST!
What’s the WORST smell in God’s nostrils?
To Him, what stinketh: BEST?
Try it Sunday,
Try it and see!
Ditch wrong doxie,
And be set free!
Ride free like an eagle soaring on the hot desert wind,
Like wild horses racing through snowstorms of free-state Nevada!
Like a smoke-belching iron horse steaming its way in!
Prepare to eat and be et Christ-in-You, the whole enchilada!
Still don’t believe? Ever and always,
Time will tell,
You will either love or regret these,
Poems: well!
If You Won’t Believe, What Will Who-I-Am-in Do?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/4/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
If you won’t call on Me, or be with Me or love Me for,
Who I-AM-in,
You will call on, be with, those whom are not exactly,
Who I-Am-in.
Since you won’t believe when I come in another,
Who I-AM-in,
I let you wait for a rapture-return of who isn’t,
Who I-AM-in.
Well, now, you might ask, Precisely,
Who I-AM-in,
Since I don’t believe rapture, who is?
Who I-AM-in.
I AM One who waits and wonders when you will know!
Who I-AM-in,
You read about Me daily, and on Sundays hear some of,
Who I-AM-in.
But when, Behold with eyes to see, I really do come quickly,
Who I-AM-in,
Confuses you. Those in whom I love, you often hate! That’s,
Who I-AM-in.
You want a god far off, but near, so near, always is!
Who I-AM-in,
I’m in songs! In poems! In your loved ones! That’s!
Who I-AM-in.
I’m in whom you give your back always, the back! That’s!
Who I-AM-in,
I’m very far indeed, sadly, from so many churches! That’s,
Who I-AM-in.
I’m in those that believe,
Who I-AM-in,
Knowing this, can you see?
Who I-AM-in.
I salute those who salute Me in others! That’s,
Who I-AM-in,
Yes, the test is humility! I hate pride! That’s,
Who I-AM-in.
I cannot live in the proud religious! That’s,
Who I-AM-in,
I’m waiting for pride to bow in you! That’s,
Who I-AM-in.
See if I don’t live in you more, when you humbly honor in others,
Who I-AM-in,
I am reciprocal. So is love. But pride is so rigid! It’s the flexible,
Who I-AM-in.
You’ve tried it your church’s religious way. It’s not,
Who I-AM-in,
Stop honoring Who I AM in not! Honor who is in,
Who I-AM-in.
Still stuck in religious pride? A god of pride is not,
Who I-AM-in,
Meek yet strong, humble yet victorious. Please! Now try,
Who I-AM-in,
Until you believe, I AM returned in others, you won’t know,
Who I-AM-in,
First step, honor someone, even a mad poet, who knows,
Who I-AM-in.
Read of my Father’s transcendence, Chapters 14-17 from John,
Who I-AM-in,
Father in Me, Me in Father, You in Me, Me in You! That’s,
Who I-AM-in.
Yes, Churchianity has blown it massively! They are miles away from,
Who I-AM-in,
Leave Churchianity! Give them neither dime nor deference! Come to,
Who I-AM-in.
The world will see!
Who I-AM-in,
When you will be!
Who I-AM-in.
Arsk Me Anythin’ But That!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/6/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
I am in the Royal Navy,
I fly a Harrier Jump Jet!
But now I’ve got such a problem,
The worst one I’ve had yet!
No, it’s not a problem at sea,
Nor is it a problem flying,
Me mates asked me to do something,
I just cannot be buying!
They want me to kiss the arse,
Of Lord Nelson’s statue!
To show to them and the world,
My love for Navy’s true!
Lord Nelson was a great man,
And his fine statue is shiny!
But ye gods! For the life of me,
Why should I kiss his hiney?
I am a good pilot,
I am a good sailor!
I love Queen and County,
I love my Harrier!
But me mates insist I kiss something,
I do not want to kiss,
Something’s wrong with me mates’ heads,
They are, not me, remiss!
Thus are Christian leaders,
Beset with conflicted souls,
Who insist their sheep kneel,
To a lie from Satan’s rolls.
Forget all else, they say,
Only believe in some platitude or other,
Else you shame Christ on cross!
Oh yah? I’ve got a Brooklyn Bridge to sell, brother!
Christianity isn’t myopic, blind obedience,
To one page of eight-hundred in the bible!
If it was, God would’ve given one page,
To conform to and one tyrant to be liable!
But we are liable to a host of things,
Chiefly: Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
And eight-hundred pages of scripture,
And no man’s end to kiss! Can you hear it?
God is majestic,
And He is true!
In That Day He wants,
Full Christ-in-You!
Christ-in-You is noble,
Christ-in-You is upright and decent,
Christ-in-You doesn’t kneel, doesn’t kiss,
A pledge-control embarrassment!
So, like our UK sailor, (don’t let lowlifes pull rank!)
With God, be a good Limey,
Don’t pledge allegiance to what, (tho’ sounding sacrosanct!)
Makes Christ-in-You slimy.
It’s just one of many: hidden enslavement tools,
From one control-freak or another,
God is wiser, bigger and smarter than such fools,
Proper be, a man and God lover!
Drillin’ Holes in the Titanic!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/6/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Today’s ministers of no small madness,
Years into a double dip recession,
Load up the backs and yokes of sheep,
With tithes, gifts and offerings: in session!
Mortgages under water?
Credit card debt exploded?
Church shenanigan’s guilt,
Is for bear, er SHEEP, loaded!
God in heaven is happy,
To see so many churches expanded?
As household finance fail,
Church needs thus met, as demanded?
Wealth is created by providing,
A product, service or good investment!
Except church nondoms In That Day,
With their Give-to-Get: bold enslavement!
Drillin’ holes in the RMS Titanic,
Adding bricks to the Berlin Wall,
Givin’ bombs to suicide terrorists,
It’s the Tithe-to-Me, Rigid-in-Pride Cabal!
The Tithe-to-Me, Rigid-in-Pride Cabal,
Asks, Bad economy?
To heck with first paying back debts all!
Tithe-to-Me! Tithe-to-Me!
Ministers of hidden misdirection,
Suggestion, showmanship and hypnotism,
Have no mercy. No, absolutely none,
On sheep tricked of freedom’s patriotism!
A free man,
Pays his bills!
And can’t be,
Conned by shills!
When mortgage must be paid,
And piles of bills must be met,
Malarkey church gets none,
Of the Give-to-Get bet!
Drillin’ holes in the RMS Titanic,
Adding bricks to the Berlin Wall,
Givin’ bombs to suicide terrorists,
It’s the Tithe-to-Me, Rigid-in-Pride Cabal!
The Tithe-to-Me, Rigid-in-Pride Cabal,
Asks, Bad economy?
To heck with first paying back debts all!
Tithe-to-Me! Tithe-to-Me!
What a breath of fresh air,
To hear a sermon such as this!
But I think I dreamt it,
Who am I to spoil wolves’ own bliss!
No matter how bad the economy,
With NLP ministers, it’s full speed ahead!
Neuro-Linguistic Programming must, MUST,
Deceive! Deceive! Deceive! Else wolves be dead!
How can a wolf in sheep’s clothing,
Be anything but a wolf in sheep’s clothing?
Hence, tithes and offerings demanded,
No matter how bad economy’s imploding!
Drillin’ holes in the RMS Titanic,
Adding bricks to the Berlin Wall,
Givin’ bombs to suicide terrorists,
It’s the Tithe-to-Me, Rigid-in-Pride Cabal!
The Tithe-to-Me, Rigid-in-Pride Cabal,
Asks, Bad economy?
To heck with first paying back debts all!
Tithe-to-Me! Tithe-to-Me!
Locally, I see the bottom of,
The great Pyramid Ponzi Scheme,
Of Tithe-to-Me strange purveyors of,
Not truth, but hidden slavery dreams.
You doubt me?
Why, then no ministry compassion,
For bills owed?
Just greater Tithe-to-Me passion!
God is holy and flexible,
Hidden enslavement controllers are rigid!
And to their poor and beat up sheep,
Hidden enslavement controllers are frigid!
Drillin’ holes in the RMS Titanic,
Adding bricks to the Berlin Wall,
Givin’ bombs to suicide terrorists,
It’s the Tithe-to-Me, Rigid-in-Pride Cabal!
The Tithe-to-Me, Rigid-in-Pride Cabal,
Asks, Bad economy?
To heck with first paying back debts all!
Tithe-to-Me! Tithe-to-Me!
Wolf shepherds don’t care,
That Give-to-Get makes no sense,
They abscond with flare,
Cash, hard-earned, from sheep made dense.
Rather than feeding sheep truth,
False shepherds compromise!
They get the sheep to feed them,
And pay them back with lies!
And what is the big lie,
Of the self-interested, Tithe-to-Me crowd?
That God is rigid, not,
Flexible. Their lie of which they’re proud!
Have the Lions of Truth Awoken?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/7/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Have the Lions of Truth awoken?
Have their voices spoken?
This lion’s pride protects lambs!
Is it part of the great I AM?
I don’t know everything to know about that,
But I do know what’s under my hat,
And the truth of what I know,
Continues to grow!
I am who the modern ministers: HATE!
I, in turn, hate their false-doctrine plates!
They look at me and see the Devil himself!
I look at their lies and interest in King-self!
They are the top dog of control,
And each top dog sold his soul!
I warn sheep to get out from under that!
They warn their pack to curl paws back!
Their underlings keep tails between legs,
Lest their leaders’ egos crack like eggs!
I am not afraid of these bully dogs!
Their brains and souls are kept in fogs!
Always modern church stuck in fear, greed, slouch,
When I say so, leaders always say, Ouch!
How dare you to know more than us,
We, on the rapture-greed-slouchy bus!
Their three sins take them and their sheep nowhere,
Only witchcraft keeps them believing it’s somewhere!
Nowhere is nowhere at all!
Prepare, blind leaders, to now fall!
Time is ever and always a truth detection machine,
Time is out for blind leaders, each with blind scheme!
Make it easy on yourselves, agree with God’s prophet,
Or suffer the loss of mankind’s love, which is profit!
This scribe is tired of being always proved true,
By watching the horrid evil, blind leaders do!
They don’t feed sheep, they butcher them!
When will blind tyrants see their sin?
God, it’s not funny. Do you laugh?
When will they see, their path of wrath?
What will trigger the hammer’s fall?
When one or two with sight, see them all?
We have seen and we have wept!
Yet blind leaders have seen and slept!
One, Two, Three: Wake Up! Clap! Clap!
Behold requite’s cup! Snap! Snap!
Blind leaders sit on Satan’s lap!
If they stay there now, it’s ZAP!
Pop goes the weasel, bang goes the gong!
Blind leaders of enslavement say, Uhm,
Why should we change the course we run?
What can make us repent? Not God’s Son!
Well, that is certainly how they think!
But God’s Sun has been known, to make folks drink!
Even so, blind leaders say, We will not drink this truth!
We shall amaze even you, God, just what we forsooth!
We forsooth all correction, e’en truth come from God!
If we did repent, our friends would say we’re odd!
And this scribe knows all this and is tired,
Of leaders and followers who love being mired!
How modern preachers love their sin!
They love the deception they are in!
Hating only God’s own seers who see!
How god-awful blind leaders be!
Stalemate! It is, blind leaders rejoice!
Doubling up the bet on their changeless course,
While intercessors feel great remorse!
Hence, things won’t get better: only worse!
Good job, blind leaders: You are so stubborn!
And will not, will not be humbly reborn!
By the way, did you know? God never loses!
Yet, lets each of you choose, what he chooses!
By your choice, it will happen,
Your destiny, you are mappin’,
Oh God, my prayer: Please, let me be half the globe away!
When what happens to these stubborn blind, In That Day!
Just because they fear not God, don’t hurt me!
I warned them: Of their great evil, FLEE!
So they must really want, what they’ll get!
Demon-removing hardship, God’s bet!
They won’t remove their invited-in demons, before tribulation,
Then God lets them have full recompense, of their own creation!
I would, nor would God have, them have it so,
But to God and his seers, they repeatedly said, NO!
All right then, so according to their own stubbornness, it must be,
For the hidden enslavement masters, to set their captives: free!
Oh, right now, they’ll complain this Reno man, with his strange poems is idiotic,
But after they see, they’ll see just who was, and who wasn’t: despotic.
God, in the form of Christ, said three times: Feed my sheep!
Fear, Greed and Slouch makes God and seers weep!
But that is what modern ministers stick with, and they stick with their guns!
Inexorably, because of who God is, they’ll find out, who are God’s sons!
They’ll find out things won’t be so easy,
When the cup of God’s wrath, makes them queasy,
And God’ll make them drink, the full-horrible, hurt-some draught dry,
All because the seer’s truth-of-God: They would not buy!
Oh well,
What on earth do they want?
Heaven, (They’ll get just what they vaunt!)
Or hell?
Peterbilts vs. Sheep-That-Wilt
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/8/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
What a crazy dream,
I had!
I don’t know who was,
Most bad!
Millions of Peterbilt Trucks,
On a forty-lane freeway,
Against millions of sheep,
Dodging out of harm’s way!
Sheep-That-Wilt Shepherds,
Helpd the sheep cross the forty lanes,
But the Peterbilts,
Hit the sheep! Causing them great pains!
The shepherds, believe it or not,
Gave them: MILK!
The Peterbilts, with diesel fuel,
Did not bilk!
BAM! Down went the sheep,
Shepherds saying, Only believe!
BAM! Down went more sheep,
Sheep saying, Oh, how we grieve!
Across the forty-lane freeway,
Was an In That Day Teachings Bridge,
Hopping mad on it was a gnome,
Saying, Shepherds! Get sheep on ridge!
From ridge, they’ll see,
This Higher Way!
Then they’ll cross bridge,
No cost to pay!
No slaughter from Peterbilts,
No more low-level advice!
No more Sheep-That-Wilt!
No more wolves of vice!
Then each shepherd handed,
Each sheep a hat,
Saying, Look down, not up!
And that was that.
The dream sadly ended with,
Happy Peterbilts honking, bumpers red,
While shepherds with bullhorns,
Said, Sheep, forget what that gnome ever said!
The shepherds could not believe,
There was, in fact, a Higher Way!
When they thought of their low god,
They said, A High One, would be fey!
Such was their faith,
In That Day,
Choosing slaughter,
And pride’s sway.
Too hard it was for them,
To help their sheep, by eating humble pie,
No, they could not do that!
They served three kinds of milk, not knowing why!
While unchanging shepherds,
Just tried,
Their milk-fed sheep,
Just died.
This dream I had in the year of our Lord,
Two-thousand and eleven,
The world has progressed almost overboard!
Yet shepherds keep leaven.
And refuse to believe,
There is a Higher Way,
Old paths, Christ-in-You!
They have it all, they say.
Oh Boy! It’s Boy-Pastor Church!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/9/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
What are women thinking?
Hauling their families to Boy-Pastor Church!
High-pitched-voice Boy-Pastors,
Teaching man, woman, child: immaturity’s curse?
It is GUY this, GUY that,
Milk sermons, never steak!
Platitudes, not wisdom,
Who’s Puppet-Master great?
Usually, the pastor’s wife,
Who likes her man a boy?
And women of the church, same?
To dominate! Their joy?
Shout hallelujah with a squeaky voice!
Make it wispy-soft, yet high!
It’s woman-run, Boy-Pastor Church, rejoice!
Man and woman are just: GUY!
These are the masters of subtle deception,
Mammaries of the most milky of the Milky Ways!
It’s our modern woman-run: Boy-Pastor Church!
They’ll geld you, if you don’t give ’em: Hurrays!
Mother’s milk is good for babies,
And that is the problem!
Feed men and women momma’s milk,
They each become goblin!
Milk-obsessed, mammary church it is,
Maybe only prophetic eyes can see that!
For folks with milk in ear,
Or milk on eyes, have become blind as a bat!
The brow-beaten men attending must think,
At least I’m not as wimpified as that pastor!
Meanwhile, wives learn from pastor’s better half,
Wow! She whipped ‘er guy good! That’s what we’re after!
Shout hallelujah with a squeaky voice!
Make it wispy-soft, yet high!
It’s woman-run Boy-Pastor Church, rejoice!
Man and woman are just: GUY!
These are the masters of subtle deception,
Mammaries of the most milky of the Milky Ways!
It’s our modern woman-run: Boy-Pastor Church!
They’ll geld you, if you don’t give ’em: Hurrays!
It’s a good way to make,
Your children rebel, in dark themes gothic!
Daughter in combat boots,
Son, dress! Their parents, they’ll mocketh!
Because Boy-Pastor Church,
Mocks all prophetic correction,
Women puppet-masters,
Make Boy-Pastors: their confection!
For neither man nor woman,
Believes God has much better ways!
Else they would believe prophet,
And do, not delete, what he says.
Shout hallelujah with a squeaky voice!
Make it wispy-soft, yet high!
It’s woman-run, Boy-Pastor Church, rejoice!
Man and woman are just: GUY!
These are the masters of subtle deception,
Mammaries of the most milky of the Milky Ways!
It’s our modern woman-run: Boy-Pastor Church!
They’ll geld you, if you don’t give ’em: Hurrays!
Boy-Pastor Church,
Is a great way to kill time!
And not prepare,
With courage, for God’s next sign!
History doesn’t repeat itself,
But it does rhyme!
History hurts immature thought,
The boyish kind!
Women, let your boys each become a man!
Man enough to learn from mistakes,
Then you’ll all become more mature,
And learn, In That Day, what it takes!
Shout hallelujah with a squeaky voice!
Make it wispy-soft, yet high!
It’s woman-run, Boy-Pastor Church, rejoice!
Man and woman are just: GUY!
These are the masters of subtle deception,
Mammaries of the most milky of the Milky Ways!
It’s our modern woman-run: Boy-Pastor Church!
They’ll geld you, if you don’t give ’em: Hurrays!
What does it take to mature,
Out of Boy-Pastor Church, In That Day?
First, you must: Weep! Wail! Howl!
Repent! Repent of loving the Devil’s way!
Next, learn to learn about the bad ways,
The bad ways of Churchianity’s fear, greed and slouch!
Then, learn to learn about the good ways,
They will be tough! You’ll have to really get off couch!
The good ways consist of three primary things,
Ancient Paths of Correction, God’s wise High Ways,
All designed to increase the Christ-in-You,
Whom you will see in others, and salute: always!
We’re shocked! you might be thinking, but didn’t a lady say,
To Jesus Himself, Aren’t the paps that gave ye suck, blessed?
And Christ full knew it was a diversion, so He replied,
Obey my voice! So then, between Christ or paps, who’s best?
Preachers, You Really Must Get Out!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/10/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Preachers, You really must,
Get out!
You would be surprised what,
Comes out!
What comes out of other preacher’s mouths,
Is absurd!
But not yours! But the others! Well, have,
You heard?
One pauses five times,
Per sentence!
His soul: tortured,
Repentance!
Another warns of,
Smooth talkers!
Never on point,
Just bonkers!
Another wants you to submit,
To his authority!
That he is crazy, peers would,
Vote in majority!
Another shouts loud and angry,
Then pauses low and soft,
Hypnotizing audience,
When home, to kick dog!
Another in squeaky-boy voice,
Teaches on manhood and overcoming strife,
But he can’t stop calling men,
GUYS, even if it meant his life!
Another man warns of,
Spending too much time on the couch!
His wife runs his whole church,
No wonder he’s on couch! OUCH!
Another warns to beware,
Beware! Of the false prophet!
While saying, Rapture is near!
And fear! But just don’t mock it!
On man, a Texan,
Loudly booms out his voice, with big ego’s showmanship!
Only problem is,
Christ-in-You sails in no man’s ship, that’s showmanship!
Another parenthetic-interrupts everything,
Laying down Mesmer’s hypnotic, brain-overloading misdirection!
Repeated ad nauseam like it was bling!
With: How-many-of-you-know-the-answer-to-a-moronic-question?
Decks with missing cards,
Minds not put together,
Engines missing parts,
Storming-rage weather…
Authorities with few bible truths,
And tons of malarkey,
Boyish freaks, mad controllers,
Attitudes oft snarky…
Weird, uncorrected,
Kings with no clothes,
Clowns in the circus,
Unsure of roles…
Madmen and madwomen,
In a mad, mad, mad, mad world!
Perchance ready or not,
For high teachings unfurled.
Dystopian directors,
Of antipode-spirit thought,
Each unable to believe,
God’s higher mind says: STOP!
Stop the insanity,
Stop the puerile being!
Hear now a true prophet,
Who wants you all seeing!
Weep! Wail! Howl!
Repent of church-insanity sold!
In That Day,
Comes better humanity: BOLD!
Ancient Paths of Correction,
Higher Ways and then Christ-in-You!
Will kill church fear, greed and slouch,
Else, God and His prophets, aren’t true!
Be sad, oh yes, preachers,
That these truths didn’t come first to you!
But now that they’ve come!
Be careful now, what will you do?
More insanity?
Well, be my guest!
Do more what you’ve tried?
But is that best?
Sure, the other preachers are crazy,
But not you!
You, unlike all the others, are whole,
Not unglued?
If so,
My congratulations!
If not,
Stop enslaving nations!
Learn of Christ-in-You,
Old Paths of Correction and Higher Ways!
So from babe to man,
You can be ye perfect, as I AM says!
Yes! Hard it will be, to say on your tongue,
In That Day Teachings are true,
It’s so hard to be humble when perfect!
Guess we’ve got nothing to do?
The Pressure is On! (On Who?)
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/11/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Normally, preachers put the pressure,
On sheep!
Now, it’s the reverse! Wonder how,
They’ll keep!
How will wayward shepherds,
Keep it together?
When they don’t do what they,
Must, to get better!
The walk left-to-right,
Preacher in a hamster-pipe!
Can he stay put? Once,
The hypnotized say: Not right!
The smooth-talking parenthetic interrupter,
Who strays hours for every minute on course!
What will he do when audience sees all that,
And demands cogency, else collection’s worse!
The builder of fear through rapture,
Building up that awful control-machine!
What will he do? if audience says,
We don’t believe rapture’s fear-monger scheme!
Oh the pressure’s on!
What a whopping surprise!
It’s on wolf-shepherds,
Who must get rid of: LIES!
The pressure is on!
Pastors’ shirts soaked with sweat!
Casting out demons!
In themselves, lest sheep get et!
And the angry-loud preacher,
Who shouts loud, then quiet as a mouse!
Controls by hypnotizing,
What happens? When sheep leave his house!
And the morbid-dreary preacher,
Halting in speech and breath,
Who hangs himself and sheep on blood,
Of Christ? All this death?
What happens when dreary-death preachers,
Can no longer easily sheep pen?
When sheep see through the controller’s ruse,
And say, That church, we can’t go in!
Oh the pressure’s on!
What a whopping surprise!
It’s on wolf-shepherds,
Who must get rid of: LIES!
The pressure is on!
Pastors’ shirts soaked with sweat!
Casting out demons!
In themselves, lest sheep get et!
And the boy-voiced pastor,
Controlled by his wife?
When sheep won’t buy GUY-talk,
Won’t that man, then have strife?
And the little-pastor’s worship,
Of big-broadcast pastor tomfoolery,
What will that pastor then do?
When sheep hate big hair, and big jewelry too!
And the command-and-controller,
Unceasingly saying, You must, You’ve got to, I tell you!
This and that condescending tripe,
What’ll he do, when sheep say, We, not you, have truth!
Oh the pressure’s on!
What a whopping surprise!
It’s on wolf-shepherds,
Who must get rid of: LIES!
The pressure is on!
Pastors’ shirts soaked with sweat!
Casting out demons!
In themselves, lest sheep get et!
In That Day,
Sheep will see fear, greed and slouch!
And see wolves,
Controlling from Mesmer couch!
In That Day,
The pressure is on wolfish ways!
Painful, yes,
The wolves will find, their own sheep’s gaze!
The next couple or man or woman,
Visiting a wayward-shepherd church,
Might well tell the shepherd directly,
His preaching method’s evil curse!
Oh the pressure’s on!
What a whopping surprise!
It’s on wolf-shepherds,
Who must get rid of: LIES!
The pressure is on!
Pastors’ shirts soaked with sweat!
Casting out demons!
In themselves, lest sheep get et!
These In That Day poems,
Are copied worldwide!
Once sheep’s eyes are opened,
Bad shepherds can’t hide!
And once sheep’s eyes are opened,
They can never be closed!
Wolves in sheep’s clothing revealed!
Everybody knows!
Most everybody will know,
What a con job modern church has often been!
But Christ-in-You still is waiting,
When wolves and sheep see straight, what will they do then?
Oh the pressure’s on!
What a whopping surprise!
It’s on wolf-shepherds,
Who must get rid of: LIES!
The pressure is on!
Pastors’ shirts soaked with sweat!
Casting out demons!
In themselves, lest sheep get et!
Here is precisely just what shepherds and sheep will do,
When, through In That Day Teachings, they get straight!
They’ll love Old Paths of Correction and the High Ways,
And Christ-in-You in them, before too late!
The Infinitely Uncorrectables!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/12/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Are God’s sheep in debt up to their ears?
The Infinitely Uncorrectables have no fears!
As pastors, they’ll drink up their beers,
And ask for tithes, before sheep pay arrears!
The pastors and their wives do nothing,
But with fixed rules, keep sheep head-butting!
With their self-interest deals they are cutting,
For themselves, tithes are in-season rutting!
God has no fixed rules, but guidelines,
So cash-strapped sheep have God’s lifelines,
To pay bills first, during these hard times!
But wolves ignore all of God’s higher rhymes!
That’s why wolves are scared as hell of precepts,
Of In That Day Teachings’ higher concepts!
They would free up sheep, making wolves rejects,
Ruining the Infinitely Uncorrectables’ con bets!
God sees all and waits,
These teachings are not for all pates,
Yet, look at sheep’s fates!
These wolf-shepherds are not God’s greats!
The Infinitely Uncorrectables say, none shall see,
None shall seek, none find and none be free!
Just blind sheep amening everything told to be,
Sheep eaten by wolves, must say, Whoopee!
Ever notice them that ask tithes,
Ask only for their own ministry lives?
Not for the next conman’s jives?
Only cash to them, give them good vibes!
To hell with others owed money by sheep!
God, they say, wants sheep’s cash at wolves’ feet!
The Infinitely Uncorrectables: fixed rules keep,
Keep over others, while causing heaven to weep!
Heaven weeps at the injustice of it all,
Wolves everywhere enjoy their tithing cabal,
God is big, flexible and not small,
Tithing’s fixed rules cause many shepherds to fall!
Like the South in the Civil War,
Wolves won’t see who they are,
Enslavers, tyrants, from God: far!
Consumed in lies, truth: they bar!
Infinitely Uncorrectables, so proud what they’re of,
Digging around with Satan, not with God above!
Giving the bible’s truth, God and His prophets a shove,
Full of nothing but hate and fear, not God’s love!
If they knew In That Day, what it was all about,
The Infinitely Uncorrectables would repent with a shout,
Oh God! Oh, God! Forgive us! We have been lout!
And if they were smart, they’d do this, ‘cause time is out!
Time is out for shenanigan ministry,
Yet wolves don’t know any other way to be!
Quit then! And work! And join with humanity,
And let true shepherds, In That Day, sheep: feed!
Feed My Sheep! Christ told Peter, it is printed in red three times!
The Infinitely Uncorrectables rather have preferred their sheep crimes,
Crimes against humanity, sanity, truth and God’s manna signs,
Yet In That Day, God’s mind will come to man, as Christ-in-You shines!
Put it to the Test!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #8 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 6/13/11 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Are modern churches full of greed and fear?
Do their doctrines make them lazy?
Are In That Day Teachings full of truth?
Is its prophet false and crazy?
Put it to the test! Put it to the test!
Just whose God is alive?
Choose who gets rebuke! Choose carefully now!
The church or prophet’s jive!
If you are leaders or followers,
Of modern churches stung by prophetic word,
Of In That Day Teachings’ heralding,
First reaction, is to forget what you’ve heard!
Oh, and also kick this kind out of church,
Perhaps ask such to apologize for being rude!
And especially, not be thankful,
For any gifts given, even if small or crude!
Generally speaking, doctrines which are bad,
Blind the eyes of believers,
And rip out secular reason and kindness,
Like Serenity’s Reavers!
Reavers, in that storyline, were savage men,
Devoid of all humanity!
You might be surprised how leadership acts,
God’s truth makes such lose sanity!
Put it to the test! Put it to the test!
Just whose God is alive?
Choose who gets rebuke! Choose carefully now!
The church or prophet’s jive!
So beware of In That Day Teachings geeks,
Bearing even the smallest of gifts!
If you receive the gift with no thanks,
It will be an earthquake to your rifts.
Any rifts separating you from God,
Will be shown more fully,
After not thanking whom God has sent,
If you act like bully!
If you receive goods from the prophetic,
And thankless, you say, We expected no less!
Then you are going to learn much more about God,
It will surely wake you up, best guess!
Or you could turn aside and inquire,
Just what is this burning bush?
It worked for Moses, but then you’re not him?
Are In That Day Teachings mush?
Put it to the test! Put it to the test!
Just whose God is alive?
Choose who gets rebuke! Choose carefully now!
The church or prophet’s jive!
You could actually give honor,
Unto whom honor is due,
But In That Day: church lies and pride,
Will surprise souls who aren’t true!
Aye, there’s the rub!
Is Leviathan pride lurking about?
Religious pride,
Must be killed by self. Do that, then shout!
I suppose all this is necessary,
In the time that’s called In That Day,
When church forgot and a prophet recalled,
What God wants us to do, anyway.
And what we are to do is simple,
Ancient Paths of Correction and High Ways,
Which ramps up Christ-in-You greatly,
These three make God, man and heaven do what pays!
Put it to the test! Put it to the test!
Just whose God is alive?
Choose who gets rebuke! Choose carefully now!
The church or prophet’s jive!
Oh yes. Those Leviathan egos of modern church pride,
Thought cleaning up would be more or less easy?
No! Axing fixed-rule-tithes or rapture and such,
Lies from naughty souls, will make them queasy!
No, it isn’t going to be easy,
Cleaning up greedy, fearful, lazy church!!
But for those brave enough to try,
They’ll rid themselves of Satan’s worst curse!
Too much to think about?
Is it just too much information?
Go ahead, walk away,
But then, how will come reformation?
Another bloody revival?
So new believers can learn stupid doxy?
So will God love his sworn rival?
And exalt fear, greed and slouch as His proxy?
Put it to the test! Put it to the test!
Just whose God is alive?
Choose who gets rebuke! Choose carefully now!
The church or prophet’s jive!
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