WILDERNESS PROPHET PSALMS OF TEACHING
Spirited Away
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/14/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
The prophet’s message,
Has been spirited away,
Drowned out by others,
With nothing to say.
Others with prophecy voices,
Full of beans,
Tell us all exactly, precisely,
What future brings.
Ever they are wrong,
It does not matter,
People want broadcast,
Blithering blabber.
One famous preacher sells,
A small idol,
Jewelry he designed,
And signed back of.
The front is Jesus,
Come in clouds,
“Behold, I come quickly,”
It says proud.
Meanwhile, the preacher, himself,
Looks ghostly pale,
Haggard, worn out, tired, made up,
In truth, a soul ill.
His very witness: Jesus is not,
Much now come present in me,
The exact diametric message,
Any prophet would, well, be.
And how much does this Nehushtan cost?
One hundred fifty dollars,
A cheap price for leviathan pride,
Spirit shackles and collars.
Does it Help God’s Indwelling?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/14/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Does it help God’s,
Indwelling,
Or is it just,
Selling?
My Lord asks me,
Of you.
Is it rotten,
Jewelry,
Or give-get Tom-,
Foolery,
Broadcasting preacher,
Witch’s brew?
*
Televangelists magically,
Sell fear,
And boast proud when,
Greed appears,
Making rapture and prosperity
Sound true.
Is there anything,
At all,
To make naïve sheep,
To fall,
That broadcasting preachers,
Wouldn’t do?
*
One, just one thing,
It is,
They think would bring,
Bad biz,
That’s say they,
Are wrong.
They’ll gladly go,
To hell,
Taking their sheep,
As well,
Insisting when weak,
They’re strong.
*
A Catch-Twenty-Two,
A damned if you do,
Damned if you don’t,
They put us through,
By them abiding by,
Their wrong guns.
But at heaven’s gate,
They will wait,
While the truth loving,
Join God’s pate,
Since deceiving preachers,
Are Satan’s sons.
I’ll Take it Only So Far
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/15/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
I’ll take it only so far,
This Jesus indwelling,
Perhaps I’ll make a remark,
Jesus in you is swelling.
I’ll say, I see Jesus,
Now in you,
Then skip on, trip on,
What you do.
I’ll say, Yes, You have,
Got Jesus inside,
Any more than that,
Makes me deride.
I deride you for thinking,
Jesus comes now quickly,
To expand heaven’s kingdom,
Invisibly, simply.
If that were true,
I’d have to honor you,
And give honor,
To you I will not do.
I will not honor you,
For paying the big price,
To make welcome Jesus,
In your humble palace.
You see, my dungeon is great,
I keep telling you so,
You’ve got to agree I’m good,
I keep selling you so.
You must insist I’m good,
And let me judge you,
It’s a grand game I play,
I know what I do.
And if Jesus tells me something,
While living inside your head,
I quickly, entirely discard,
Whatever you and He said.
Forget me honoring you,
For having Jesus inside,
Who cares God honors you,
When I’ve got my pride.
I’ll take it only so far,
That in you Jesus abides,
Let’s get back to myself and,
Everything not God besides.
A Sad But Good Day for Christianity
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/16/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
It’s indeed a sad day for Christianity,
Yet a good day profound,
Greed, fear and emotional preaching is bereft,
Yet indwelling remains sound.
In greed we trusted,
With high prosperity,
In fear we busted,
With rapture insanity.
In emotion we caught up,
Ourselves in giddiness,
Through intellect or feelings,
Granfalloon silliness.
We have tried anything and everything,
By way of escape,
But escapism is nowhere found on,
God’s indwelt landscape.
You need eyes to see, ears to hear,
Spiritually, of course,
To see God can’t live in or with,
Doctrines evil of source.
Doctrines of the Devil engender,
Fear, greed or emotion,
It’s Satan’s magical elixir,
His religious potion.
Our enemy’s potion designed to,
Wreck Christianity,
The answer, though, is simple,
Return, humanity!
Return to God and He will,
Return into you,
Invisibly, soundly He’ll,
Live inside to do.
To do and to be in,
Is the same,
When you and God’s nature,
Are one name.
I’ve Been an Empty Cup
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/17/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
I’ve been an empty cup,
Filled with ingredients,
Tossed to and fro, up, down,
Anything expedient.
I’ve tried this and that,
Wrong times times time.
Anything and everything,
To make life rhyme.
The answer was to be still,
And be infilled of my God,
I had to empty my full cup,
Not an agreeable job.
Holy smokes, I was wrong,
About most everything,
I had to choose, as you must,
Who will be King.
Who will be King and fill,
The empty cup of life,
Man’s ideas of man’s religion,
Mere self-exalting tripe?
Or quiet God in,
Quiet man,
Quietly discovering,
Who I am.
I am not God,
Yet He is,
In me in truth,
His message.
Two cups are one,
In God’s math,
One cup is two,
Full at last.
Crying is the Best Sound
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/17/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Crying is the best sound,
That heaven can hear,
Crying from shocked Christians,
That maturity is near.
No more baby gospel,
Or commotion,
No more idiotic,
Moronic devotion.
Cry babies, cry,
Get it all out,
Cry until empty,
Of crying about.
No more boasting,
Braggadocios,
No more snobbery,
Atrocious.
God loves His infants,
Even their cry,
But grow up, old ones,
Or you will die.
Nothing is as sad or bad,
Than an infant man,
So grow up, old Christians,
As fast as you can.
So cry out, old babies,
Even at eighty,
Time comes, Christ body,
To be weighty.
Be still and know God,
Wants in you at last,
Expunged of puerility,
He’ll live in you fast.
In fact, Christ comes quickly,
Believe it or not,
Not in rapture or end times,
But fast as a shot.
But pride makes unbelief,
Pride can’t honor indwelt others,
Prepare, old babies, for,
Rejection by baby brothers!
Oh God, Cause Your face to Shine Up in Us
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/17/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Oh God, Cause Your face to shine up in us,
We are tired,
We are mired,
In wrong doxie,
We have the poxie,
We are unclean vessels!
Oh God, Cause Your face to shine up in us,
We are proud,
We are loud,
We are astonishingly sinful,
With us you can’t be in full,
We are religious mess-fulls!
Oh God, Cause Your face to shine up in us,
We thought we were right,
Being full of just blight,
Doxies we loved well,
Came straight from hell,
Us you cannot bless full!
Oh God, Cause Your face to shine up in us,
Being virtually wayward,
We’ve had it backward,
No seeing trees for the forest,
You come not alone but in us,
You come only when we’re less full!
Oh God, Cause Your face to shine up in us,
We must now repent,
Wasting years lent,
Being desolate,
And late, late, late,
Empty now, now come in us, and quickly be full!
When We Choose a King
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/22/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
When we choose a king,
We get what we deserve,
Lessons in gladness or sadness,
For a king always serves.
A king always serves,
To prove right or wrong,
In teaching it matters not,
What side he belongs.
If a fool, the king will be loved,
By all his same kind,
While proving a fool in power, showers,
Insanity all around.
The fool king proves wrong doctrines,
Creates death eventually,
Letting fools repent to great depths,
Of fool insanity.
A wise king is hated utterly,
By all foolish crowds,
His acts of wisdom provoke,
Fools to stand proud.
While the wise king brings life,
Through sagacious acts,
The death lovers will distort,
Great matters of fact.
The only way fools will change,
And love a wise king,
Is to first let a fool king,
Up end everything.
So let the fool king,
Up end all he can,
He’ll just prove what a fool believes,
Not a wise man.
The fool king’s subjects,
Will finally want truth,
Hard truths, brutal truths the crowds,
Earlier forsoothed.
Give us sane doctrines!
They’ll cry in unison,
A fool king is deadly!
Forgive us, God’s Son.
And God will forgive,
Our foolish choices,
When hard truth is honored,
God rejoices.
God rejoices and lets us,
Choose our wise kings,
First letting us suffer fools,
To learn great things.
How do I know this?
I’ve been king of my life,
Often fool, sometimes wise,
Mostly in between strife.
So let a fool be a fool,
As good as it gets,
This a wise man allows,
How wisdom begets.
Signs Confirming, Denying
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/22/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Always there are signs,
Confirming, denying,
The truth people choose,
Righteous or lying.
Obama was sworn in,
President of our land,
Using Abraham Lincoln’s Bible,
Oh my, how grand!
But wait, the oath flubbed,
Had to happen again.
And when redone correctly,
No Bible at hand.
A Mark 16:20 sign,
Showing the heart,
What a way to begin,
What a way to start.
Other signs abounded,
Of abiding insanity,
But to detail the signs,
Would be nitpicky.
Mark 16:20 signs are given,
For such eyes to see,
Who believes God reigns truly,
In quick majesty.
Repent now, Oh Obama Hussein Barack,
Of unrighteous voting,
Or you’ll teach the world reverse confirmation,
Mark 16:20 noting.
Breaking Off Adhesions
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/27/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Matthew 24:28
For wheresoever the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered together.
Breaking off adhesions,
By all rights,
Strange requires bruising,
Tender fights.
You need, in fact,
A friend,
In temp as enemy,
To rend.
To break adhesions,
Off ego,
Then perchance, per spec,
We grow.
Thank friend enemy,
Who the cycle ends,
Parting soul from ego,
Stopping selfish sins.
Breaking off adhesions,
Isn’t nice to do,
Eagles pick off our flesh,
An ugly task true.
Only a friend you fight,
Can likely do it right,
Excising selfish blight,
To spark godly light.
Usually you break his wing,
His beak or talon,
It’s the onerous job due,
He who was carrion…
Who is now eagle,
No more cannibalic,
Picks sin sinew from bone,
Ending ties satanic.
Some day you might be eagle,
Breaking off sticky, bad adhesions,
From a friend you sadly fight,
Destroying popular delusions.
Don’t fear the fight, the friend,
Or all what you will see,
Better to see the ugly truth now,
Than in eternity.
We think we are so good when so bad,
And evil the friend who proves us wrong,
But only a friend as kind eagle,
Without mercy beats our weakness strong.
Breaking off adhesions,
By restoration right,
Requires that we lose,
Ego’s last breath fight.
Stuck in Rigid Righteousness
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/28/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Stuck in rigid righteousness,
In everything we do,
Stuck in rigid righteousness,
So right in making rue.
So much we do turns out bad,
As we follow rigid rules,
Enslaving better, softer souls,
Using rules as tools.
The rules we worship are enslavers,
Our rules say we are right,
We enslave so many better others,
As we proudly, stiffly fight.
Stuck in rigid righteousness,
We hate the pure, flexible wise who see,
We have only one great power,
Pride in cureless, rigid righteous glee.
How to House the Spirit of Prophesy
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/29/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
If
you have
a horse, or cat or a hat,
Here is what you must do:
Love your horse, or cat or hat.
And it will lovingly care for you,
And tell you what it can or cannot do:
When it aches, breaks or is true,
Will be your known surmise:
For it wants to be with you,
In tomorrow’s sunrise.
If
you have
a car, ship or home,
Here is what you must do:
Love your car, ship or home.
And it will lovingly care for you,
And tell you what it can or cannot do:
When it aches, breaks or is true,
Will be your known surmise:
For it wants to be with you,
In tomorrow’s sunrise.
If
you have
a job or life in God,
Here is what you must do:
Love your job or life in God,
And it will lovingly care for you,
And tell you what it can or cannot do:
When it aches, breaks or is true,
Will be your known surmise:
For it wants to be with you,
In tomorrow’s sunrise.
No Simple, Saleable Premise
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/29/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
No simple, saleable premise,
Have In That Day Teachings,
Once and ever stymied,
Against simplistic preaching.
Preaching we’ve heard,
Time, times and a half,
Ridiculously repetitive,
We can no longer laugh.
Today we need God’s greater,
Thoughts on all matters,
No greed, fear or emotion fests,
Ink blots of mad hatters.
We need flexible, mature love which,
In That Day delivers,
If we’re not too rigid in righteousness,
To flow in God’s rivers.
No simple, saleable premise,
Have In That Day Teachings,
The answers are here children,
Have strong courage reaching.
The Most Incomplete Story Ever Told
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/30/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
The most incomplete story ever told,
Is Jesus not come in our lives manifold.
Just Jesus in crib, on cross, in tomb,
Leaving in ourselves exactly no room.
To manifest invisibly, in spirit, in life,
Life abundant, in peace, love, no strife.
Just wait in fear for Jesus’ rapture return,
To do precisely what, a nebulous concern.
So we dig up greed in prosperity,
Jesus wants us filthy rich, you see?
We behold nothing of Jesus’ actual return,
In us now He wants His life-fires to burn.
To burn in us strong, His tribulation white light,
Returning in purified souls with sanctified might.
More power of love in billions of souls,
Each star having different manifest roles.
Unseen, yet despised by non-spiritual eyes,
Seen, honored, beloved by souls with no lies.
While petty-minded preachers talk on of God,
While ignoring Jesus come in sheep, how odd!
Christian religious broadcasters delaying the day,
Of Jesus’ glorious indwelt return in most every way.
Bragging about heralding the greatest story ever told,
While their granfalloon myopia gets excruciating old.
The most incomplete story ever told,
Is Jesus not come in our lives manifold.
Avoiding the Rush-God Lurch
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 1/31/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Let’s go to church,
And have a rush!
My life so far,
Has been a bust.
But at church,
I can get a thrill,
Dancing, laughing,
Jerking wildly ’til…
Until the rush is on,
Out of my mind,
Out of touch or reality,
Out of bounds.
I think it’s always God,
When I do this,
At my church, no guilt,
Just soul bliss!
Afterwards I go back,
To my life, a bust,
Never am I quite still,
Or know I must.
I must be still,
And know God,
But the rush is norm,
And stillness odd.
I’m confused,
How comes God to earth?
When I’m serene,
Or crazy all I’m worth?
I knew some people,
Indwelt with God,
Humble minds Christ-like,
Not much loud.
But church is loud,
Oh my, what a rush!
Too bad I can’t live,
In such constant fuss.
How, in fact, does God want,
To in me live?
When I’m in control of senses,
That He can give?
That Jesus can give me,
All He’s got,
When I control my spirit,
He joins my lot.
Quickly, quietly Jesus,
Inhabits His chosen,
While the manic movers,
Shakers, fakers are frozen.
The impatient dictators,
Are frozen out of God,
They still get their rush on,
With religious wile prods.
But the quiet, the meek,
The thoroughly uncommon,
Can be quick manifestors of Jesus,
In great truth, spot on.
So let the God rushers do whatever to,
Find madcap, wild riot, soul ecstasy,
While humbly we’ll salute, cherish, honor,
God come quick-quiet in you or me.
Is it a sin to laugh, dance or carry on,
Mightily in church?
No, we must love God hard; yet avoid,
The rush-God lurch.
Follow, Go or Be Imbued
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/1/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Follow, go or be imbued,
With the Spirit of God,
Volunteer, be conscripted,
Or run from the prod.
Learn, beloved, the three types,
Of the God-involved,
You’ll then have one more part,
Of the puzzle solved.
Followers oft see themselves,
Apart from their great leader,
They wonder what’d Jesus do,
Not being God-mind readers.
The sent understand higher,
Comprehending their missions,
They take assignments and go,
Fulfilling their king’s commission.
Which isn’t just saving souls,
It’s being at right place,
Right time and rightly tooled,
To perform at high grace.
And grace isn’t forgiveness unlimited,
It’s Divine empowerment,
That the enabled who hear and obey,
Can go where they are sent.
The imbued are the highest sort,
They are indwelt with God as one,
If the task is to go, come or judge,
It’s with the mind of God’s Son.
The followers miscomprehend,
What the sent or imbued do,
And the sent can’t always see,
What’s up with the chosen few.
Three kinds of people, there are,
God uses,
Religion gives them, therefore,
Three bruises.
So learn and know that religious respect is inverse,
To difficulty of the job stated,
Followers are lightly loved, the sent lightly hated,
And the indwelt assassinated.
Avoiding Pride’s Blight
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/3/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
(re: Abraham Lincoln’s 1838 Lyceum speech)
In the great journal,
Of thing happening under the sun,
The fight for balance,
Of true, mature liberty has just begun.
We’re just beginning now with wisdom,
To see,
Threats imagined, half-true and real,
To liberty.
One foe is lawlessness,
That’s well understood,
Another is authoritarian,
And its evil brood.
Moreover, evil is also found,
In benevolent over-ruled utopias,
Even as evil surrounds,
Licentious cornucopias.
What? Too much freedom,
Is bad?
Comparable to tyrants,
Gone mad?
What I’m saying is that,
True liberty is in dynamic tension,
Between the eternal fight between,
No laws and too many to mention.
In one epic battle, we might pray,
For underdog rebels to win,
To beat back the rigid law makers,
And find freedom within.
In another case, we might want,
The unrestrained to lose,
To belly up to the bar of truth,
And be less free to choose.
This is true, actually,
Throughout the universe,
In politics, religion, family,
It’s chapter and verse.
Back in 1860 in America,
Southerners chose a free course,
The Union, through Lincoln, prevailed,
Generally avoiding things worse.
Yet Lincoln in our great Civil War,
Chose King George’s side,
In earlier times George Washington,
Did for freedom ride.
So Washington begat a nation,
Lincoln then preserved,
By taking opposite sides of dilemmas,
Being brothers in nerve.
Brothers in maturity as these greats,
We must learn to be,
Loving even King George or Robert Lee,
As our opposites in deed.
Slightly wrong, they,
Slightly right, us,
It’s the fight for liberty,
We must trust.
One particular moment in time,
Law’s presence or absence is overdone,
Time for the other side to win,
To keep what’s right under the sun.
Thus there is no lawful or lawless perfection,
Only great strife,
But in the necessary struggle of liberty’s balance,
We find great life.
Magnanimous in victory we shall not behead,
The too lawful or too lawless chooser,
For there, but for the grace of God,
We might be undone loser, instead.
Yes, we fight for liberty,
As God gives us the right to see,
With flexibility, not rigid rules,
It’s liberty’s tension sets us free.
And understand the law of love,
And forgiveness stands supreme,
How we interpret is debatable,
In second chance, mercy serene.
Our world has still a second chance,
To make things right,
To balance law and license among us,
Avoiding pride’s blight.
So the biggest foe to liberty,
Isn’t that perceived evil might win,
It is to demonize our friend enemy,
And let none of his truth in.
So let the enemies of balanced liberty, either side,
Hate us all they can,
When we get victory in humble love, either way,
We touch the Divine.
Having a Look
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/4/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Last night in my wilderness hotel room,
TV on, I had a look,
At my old pal, famous healing evangelist,
Who was selling a book.
Eyes baggy, cheeks puffy, chin saggy,
He looked like hell,
The book his guest had authored,
Was to make our future well.
As the pale guest droned on, flat voice,
Much uninspired,
My old pal, famous healing evangelist,
Looked much mired.
Trapped he was, watching,
His telling show unfold,
Another guest, another book,
Same selling grow old.
Holy, vibrant warriors in caves, they tell us,
Will herald a new day,
But not before the rigid, blind-ditch shillers,
Get out of hell’s way.
Yes, my friend the television-rich evangelist,
Has done a lot for world belief in God,
But he and his kind are neck deep in trouble,
Believing self-critique and rebuke odd.
Majoring forever in God’s minor things,
They proudly proclaim the word,
Ignoring God’s ever-present corrections,
Extorting cash, having not heard.
Teaching the nations to be duplicated,
In formula precisely like them,
Rigid, repetitious, unthinking righteous,
Inflexibly bound in self-glory sin.
Ridin’ from Rebuke
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/4/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Isaiah 28: 1-3; Rev. 3:19
Ridin’ from rebuke,
Ah’m so free!
Gallopin’ from rebuke,
Ah’m on TV!
Ah’m a televangelist,
Boy howdy,
A hat’n saddle cowboy,
Not dowdy!
For ten, no twenty,
Maybe fifty years,
Me and mah compadres,
Been swilling beers.
The beers of intoxicating self-glory,
The wine of ME and MINE!
Broadcastin’ strong drink delusions,
Drunkards we all, divine!
Mah duster is religiosity,
Pard, buy me a drink,
Hand over your money, son,
Don’t you dare think.
Think what a bank heist,
Mah game actually is,
Renegade outlaws runnin’,
God’s broadcastin’ biz.
Ah have this here strong faith-hunch,
Y’all’s seed cash pronto-quick becomes mine,
Believe mah faith mantras, NOW, son,
God, not me and mine, will times it back fine!
Ah LOVE this outlaw math,
With every dollar mah faith is reborn,
Y’all’s coin increases belief,
Of me and mine, that is, not your’n!
AH AM the believer’s leader!
Ah ain’t never wrong,
Runnin’ from rebuke,
God’s posse ‘tain’t strong.
Support mah babble-on, anti-chastisement,
Non-rebuke charade,
YOU, Ah don’t know son, but me and mine,
Shor’ ‘nuff, got it made!
And love, Lordy Lordy, heaven above,
Jes’ why kin we never repent?
God ain’t rebukin’ whom He don’t love,
So’s we ride on, God absent!
Ask me now, friend, why should God love us,
We rebels of His way?
We take from His spiritual orphans and widows,
Who give us their pay.
So’s we ride hard,
From God’s missing rebuke,
Happy we be,
With all we took!
The Problem with Wilderness Men
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/5/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Preachers here, preachers there,
On TV will occasionally say,
There are warriors hidden by God,
In caves, preparing for the day.
The day of tribulation overcoming,
The day of great change,
The day, in fact, of true revival,
When shaking will rearrange.
A lot will happen In That Day,
What the preachers say is true,
But what they might not understand,
So clearly is, what they might rue.
The wilderness dread-not champion,
Might walk out of his dark cave,
With the power to overturn what’s wrong,
By being two things: True and brave.
With Truth he might proclaim,
Rapture is a lie with fear,
God comes quickly in us now,
Proclaiming, Behold: I’m near!
With Truth the wilderness man,
Might say, Prosperity is a lie,
You cannot buy God’s good grace,
By tithing to an idiot in a tie.
The wilderness man might say,
Stop using emotion and witchcraft,
In your services of insanity,
Do the math: Fear God’s wrath!
The wilderness man might say,
You preachers have been wrong, wrong, wrong!
You are weak, out of touch, bent,
Proud, satanic and deluded: strong, strong, strong!
Then the preachers might love,
The wilderness man as David was by Saul,
The preachers would feel bad,
And they would love him: not at all!
Then they would rue the day,
They ever proclaimed the wilderness man’s existence.
If he ever was, is or will be,
Preachers on TV will surely unite in his resistance.
The problem with the wilderness man,
He cannot agree with corruption,
And our religion has so much in it now,
His appearance brings confliction.
So the rule the same-old preachers might have,
Is bury this wilderness man!
Blast the entrance to his cave,
Entomb him while we can!
Shut this wilderness man’s mouth,
Don’t publish his book,
Keep him off camera, out of sight,
Lest any have a look!
The wilderness men, they hope,
Will each one die of old age,
Unheard, unseen, insignificant,
While preachers stay on stage.
Who will win this battle,
Between the lonely brave and ensconced naïve?
Were it not for the internet,
No man of Truth or Courage could leave his cave.
The I-AM-Not-in-Ain’ts
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/6/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Colossians 1:26-27; Matthew 23:38-39
Two hundrerd years ago,
God’s cutting edge church found wanting,
Truth’s tired old formulas,
Were out, not popular, weirdly haunting.
The truth that Jesus returns,
Indwelt in His saints,
Was on the out, disbelieved by,
The I-AM-not-in-ain’ts.
So they invented rapture,
In which Jesus returns,
They added spirits of fear,
In which we all burn.
For two hundred years,
We burn to buy the next book,
How Jesus returns literally,
In a moment, to see if the next book took.
Took us unawares,
Of the mystery,
That Jesus returns,
Inside you and me.
But again, that’s a tired old formula,
One we, by majority vote, believe is untrue,
So if Jesus returns in His pure saints,
Well, we’ll let Jesus do what He must do.
But the back, the great big back,
We all have we will give,
To all who dare host quick Jesus,
In the lives that they live.
Without fear, we give our backside,
Our lovely big backside we show,
To any disbeliever in rapture who,
Displays God’s indwelt duo.
Again, such truth is a tired old formula,
Much disbelieved,
How can rapture leaders make moola,
Without truth reprieved?
Hurray for two hundred years of rapture,
Fifty of prosperity!
Long may truth be a tired old formula,
In this age: Insanity!
Who would brave disbelieving mad doctrines,
Broadcast to one hundred nations?
Only fools for truth, only the lonely brave,
Only the orthodox believing creation.
Such marked souls,
Can’t buy, write or sell rapture books,
Only having to show,
Inside, Jesus, if anyone spiritually looks.
But the I-am-not-in-ain’ts,
Are in charge of broadcasting religious things,
Loving themselves, their sheep and sheep shearing,
Hating only witnesses indwelt of their King.
THE BACK! The back must be given,
To discourage the foolhardy, indwelt remnant!
The I-AM-not-in-ain’ts are wise,
Making souls which come quick the great I AM can’t.
For Jesus can’t come in unclean vessels,
Who won’t bless His return in others,
The I-AM-not-in-ain’ts turn back on such,
Preferring lies of rapture book sellers.
Appeal to Authority
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/7/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Isaiah 60:2
Appeal to authority,
We put a pro-abortionist, intellectual charismatic in charge,
Appeal to authority,
In debt, we give feather-nesting monarchs money to enlarge.
Appeal to authority,
We support right-smart, bible-memorizing preachers on TV,
Appeal to authority,
Preachers with unorthodoxies of dark fear and gross greed.
Appeal to authority,
We unquestioning devour our news from Big Brother apologists,
Appeal to authority,
We wonder, is there anything relative humanist we’ve missed?
Appeal to authority,
Perhaps we’ve missed that orthodox God is not really dead,
Appeal to authority,
For if He’s not, why make authorities our God instead?
One of the flags,
That rallied America’s sacrificial courage toward freedom,
One of the flags,
Called not on man’s authority but “Appeal to Heaven.”
Appeal to authority,
Is the most popular rage today,
But appeal to heaven,
And cry for your sins, God says.
Appeal to heaven,
Shed honest tears, cry, wail and weep,
Appeal to heaven,
That God may this world clean sweep.
Appeal to heaven,
And God’s light will cleanse our land,
Appeal to heaven,
As He shows us our fools’ errand.
How Green Was the Garden of Eden?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/8/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
How green was the Garden of Eden?
We can’t precisely know with certainty,
On the other hand, of course, it was,
Just as green as God wanted it to be!
Where is God’s true and approved church?
In which brick and mortar walls?
Or is it in and among people met by chance,
When quickened souls answer calls?
God calls us all to manifest,
His lovely Son,
But many so inclined in church,
Have not begun.
How green is God’s garden?
Are we, His limbs, oft too dry?
Too inflexible, rigid, ossified,
To manifest in fast surprise?
Are we branches with thorns,
And nettles and great poisons,
Of proud religious, dead facts?
Are we dead to vine God’s Son?
How lovely green, then, are you?
What flowery fragrance have I?
Or are we mostly bad-root selves,
That won’t let corruption die?
So how green of a garden should we to God now be?
Is this answer something known?
Let us be greener than the Garden of Eden ever was,
For God, indweller of our home.
Sometimes we lazily think we’d like to know,
What God in the beginning has known,
Perhaps God cares less how green it once was,
And more about how green we’ve grown.
The Masses not Grave
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/24/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
(Over 120 died in Western Kenya in February of 2009 when, after a large gasoline fuel truck overturned, a crowd of poor people siphoned the fuel, as was the accepted habit in the country’s rural regions, until the gas unexpectedly exploded with a fireball of heat, also killing a number of policemen present who could not divert the crowd from danger.)
The masses not grave,
Could care less for higher teachings,
The masses not grave,
With minds set on low reachings.
Siphon off satisfaction,
And power from illegal breechings,
Having no real respect,
For man’s or God’s legal briefings.
The masses not grave,
Discover illicit power available,
The masses not grave,
See not how hell is quite able,
To show acts unbecoming,
And precisely how untenable,
Mass thievery justified,
Becomes quickly unstable.
The masses not grave,
Justify their every action,
The poor because they are poor,
Of course, lack direction,
The rich because they are rich,
Enjoy every confection,
And the in between are mired,
In comparing connection.
The masses not grave,
Find their own way somehow,
Authority compromised,
Cannot stop crowds anyhow,
Even bystanders viewing,
Enjoy the consumptive show,
While a few keep distance,
Un-seared, the knowing know.
The masses not grave,
In Kenya were surprised,
That their situation,
Was not as surmised,
The gas tank they stole from,
Exploded; few survived,
When they were just trying,
To get finances revived.
The masses not grave,
One hundred twenty brave,
Thinking themselves justified,
Were in fact quite naïve,
To the laws of nature,
Even God couldn’t wave,
Now their survivors beg,
For their dead: a mass grave.
So the masses not grave,
Get a mass grave in the end,
Despite prophetic warnings,
By whom God does send,
God deplores the masses’,
Unnecessary sad blend,
Which throws moral caution,
To the Devil’s own wind.
The masses not grave,
The rich and the poor,
Each someday will knock,
On heaven’s great door,
Let us in! they’ll cry,
With reasons and more,
But God is no respecter,
Of persons; but demeanor.
The masses not grave,
Choose their way on earth,
Higher teachings they reject,
Leaving no room to birth,
Difficult salvation which,
They presume of no worth,
With their cheap morals from high,
To low, themselves besmirch.
The masses not grave,
No warnings will take,
The masses not grave,
All rules haply break,
Despising prophecy is,
The offense they make,
With their hellish souls,
They care not to wake.
I Heard the Prophet’s Voice
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/25/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
(Gatwick, England)
I heard the prophet’s voice,
He said I was untrue,
He said I didn’t watch my spirit,
And what it made me do.
He said much of Christianity,
Has become quite corrupt,
He showed me in the Bible,
How folks made down up.
I heard the prophet’s voice,
It rang clear as a bell,
I followed his advice,
It has served me well.
The prophet I heard is gone,
In heaven I believe he is,
Bottom is still up with most,
But I have found my bliss.
By cleaning up my act,
And believing doxies true,
I find Jesus often in me,
Showing me what to do.
It’s quiet, it’s invisible,
This new indwelt Spirit of mine,
By hearkening unto the prophet,
I am with I AM God divine.
And sometimes I call to others,
As my prophet friend did,
But most others won’t have me,
They want me and truth rid.
Mostly I’m alone in the wilderness,
With God in quiet joy,
Writing for future generations how,
To grow to man from boy.
Because no one now seems much interested,
Of what doxies do and don’t work with God,
Modern people are so wired and connected,
Only those living off-grid don’t find truth odd.
Perhaps this is the serpent casting out of his mouth,
The flood of Revelation Twelve: Fifteen,
Because only an off-grid folk celebrate my truth,
And don’t loathsomely hate my warnings.
Beware the crowd of man pleasers,
Beware the cost of with every fake Christian going along,
The crowd oft believes insanities,
And pretends, despite themselves, to be with God strong.
Test the spirits of themselves,
Inspect their fruit,
Bitter inside they might be,
Stolen their loot.
I can’t brag of what I do,
Pride will stop God’s witness,
But who on-grid will see,
Who is of curse or bless?
I know a people off-grid in Africa, Kenya,
Who In That Day of truth rejoice,
I know a people on-grid speaking English,
Who cannot hearken to truth’s voice.
Woe, woe is me! Sometimes,
I can’t handle what I’ve found,
I listened to the prophet’s voice,
That parsed err from what is sound.
Woe, woe is earth! In busy connection,
People assure themselves all is well,
That’s not what the prophet said or I find,
A truth too bitter for most to tell.
Go on, go on, in mad connectivity!
Assure yourself the prophet’s message is most bad,
But in hell are there digital devices,
To keep your brain from going stark, eternal mad?
No, of course not, the Bible says,
Be still and know I am God,
Off-grid folk can still do this; the rest,
Devil takes whom God can’t prod.
I heard the prophet’s voice,
I can’t undo what it did to me,
Someone somehow listen,
Finding truth and spirit sets you free.
I Took a Jet to Eternity
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/25/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
(On route, aboard a Virgin Atlantic 747, from Gatwick to Las Vegas)
I took a jet to eternity,
I waited all my life,
It didn’t cost me anything,
I just died one night.
I died and was given a ticket,
And told to go to a gate,
People thronged to and fro,
No one wanted to be late.
My gate had a chaired room,
Of tremendous size,
We were met and counted:
Five thousand and five.
Then five thousand and five of us,
Walked in a skyway tall,
We boarded the largest plane ever,
Bigger than any I ever saw.
Each wing of the plane had eight engines,
On the tail wings I counted four,
Twenty engines powered this great craft!
I was at once in supreme awe.
Oh God, I thought, we’ve made heaven!
These great engines are taking us,
To a place beyond the sky, beyond beyond,
God’s reward: Our super jumbo bus.
Strange, though I noted, the plane’s nose,
Had angles sharp yet worn like a rake,
As the cutting teeth of hand tools,
In space flight, this must be what it takes!
Once five thousand and five were seated,
And belted in preparation,
The captain of the plane came on,
Saying: Here’s your situation:
We’ll be flying today,
Forty thousand feet below the earth,
While above, you blew it,
Say goodbye to laughter and all mirth.
I reached for my seatbelt,
It was holding me tight!
We all felt something wrong,
In fact, nothing was right!
The plane was pushed back right then,
And sunk into a ghostly mire,
Through the fog we passengers saw,
Twenty engines belching fire.
Slowly the giant plane,
Began to develop speed,
The earth-craft tunneled down,
As hell-fire’s jet steed.
The cabin became unbearably hot,
We thought we couldn’t breathe,
The cabin attendants lit cigars and,
Put them to our hands and knees!
For days we traveled downward,
Screaming, hurt sick were we,
For cabin entertainment we saw,
Movies of our life’s misdeeds.
Then: This is the captain speaking,
We have arrived at hell’s gate,
We have a saying in this business,
Hell is now, heaven can wait.
On earth, that’s what I thought!
Making little bliss,
I laughed at the holy and right,
Whom I now miss.
Hell is an awful place,
But the worst part was when I first knew,
My after-life jet ride,
Was with Satan’s downward fleet of rue.
I rue the day I was born,
And that I was ever alive,
To ride a dark jet of mourn,
And pay for stubborn pride.
Twenty engines await to take you,
If you follow me,
And five thousand four in hell,
Who lived ungodly.
Consider your final eternity ride,
Before it’s too late,
Do and be good with God now,
And upgrade your fate.
They won’t tell us fools down here,
What fine ride we missed,
All I know: Here down is up,
And all is remiss.
Un-planes fly through the solid ground,
To a place hotter than hot,
Delivering souls who thought they knew,
This place could be not.
Learn, oh traveling pilgrim,
While still walking above ground,
Love God, yourself and man,
Be right, be pure, be holy sound!
And your flight might take you,
To a heavenly minded place,
Where up is up and down is down,
Making bright stars in space.
Learn from me, the passenger,
Of an infernal jet,
Who made mistakes like yours,
So now: with God get!
I Have Found it Tedious
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/25/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
(On route, aboard a Virgin Atlantic 747, from Gatwick to Las Vegas)
I have found it tedious,
To contend with man,
He’ll tell you I am his God,
Whenever he can.
But let him have some of Me,
My power that makes him grand,
He’ll take all credit from Myself,
And make his soul a worship stand.
If I remove My majesties from him,
He becomes worse than animal,
He must know good and evil power,
Risking pride above our rival.
Our rival is the monster pride,
Satan does it best,
It is what humbles Me and man,
Not the Devil’s behest.
Most tedious of all is rigid man,
Rigidly worshipping Me and My rules,
I break them and I’ll break him,
To prove the rigid are wayward fools.
Most fun of all are the flexible,
In spirit and truth they love Me,
I hide them here and there about,
In Me in them we’re fancy free.
Who Knows Which Way the Wind Blows?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/25/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
(On route, aboard a Virgin Atlantic 747, from Gatwick to Las Vegas)
Who knows which way the wind blows?
Only the Spirit.
Who knows which way the Spirit goes?
Only those who hear it.
Who can truly hear the Spirit?
Only the holy.
Who are the holy?
Only the lonely.
Why are the holy lonely?
They separate from carnal men.
Who are carnal men?
Those not born again.
Why must we be born again?
To follow as the Spirit goes.
Why follow the Spirit?
It loves when heaven grows.
Why should I on earth grow heaven?
It’s in the Lord ’s Prayer.
Why can’t I do it without His Spirit?
Without indwelling you get nowhere.
What is the indwelling?
It is Jesus living inside man.
What if I think indwelling is creepy?
Creepiness is banning God’s plan.
What is God’s plan today?
To manifest Jesus in man, woman, boy and girl.
What will that accomplish?
Restoration of all good begun in the world.
What must happen for this plan to work?
Get rid of fear and greed.
What about prosperity or rapture preaching?
They bad emotions feed.
Why must I disavow Pentecostal fear and greed doctrines?
To hear God’s rhema voice.
Why is it so hard to hear and obey God’s say?
You have no other choice.
Why can’t I believe fear and greed will get me through?
It’s not allowed in heaven.
Who can bear up to all this hard, bitter truth?
Only wheat, not leaven.
In the Battleground of Ideas and Ideology
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/26/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
In the battleground of,
Ideas and ideology,
Pentecostals believe,
In rapture theology,
Their future is soon any day,
Going to heaven,
But if they are simply plain wrong,
What bad leaven!
If rapture theology is wrong,
My, what a blinding!
People will still be around here,
Amateurs finding,
Rapture was and is wrong deception,
Keeping all from seeing,
Indwelling of quick come Jesus,
In betters believing.
Better saints in God refusing,
Prosperity and rapture preaching,
Answering God’s higher calling,
To be indwelt of God reaching,
As saints of God always were and will be,
Beyond rigid righteous to holy,
Seeing Father God’s hand moving invisibly,
Living with God, not fear or greed.
But Pentecostals don’t dare,
Question themselves,
Aren’t open to discussion,
Don’t dare self-test,
That fear or greed doxies,
Result in non-holy miscreants,
That rigid word teaching,
Makes for-profit, non-prophet saints.
The evidence is for inspecting,
Seeing eyes to see,
Pentecostal jabberwocky church,
Is blind to its blinding,
Learn, oh pilgrim, from the stubborn,
God wants us flexible and pure,
In the wilderness of freedom,
God hates fear and greed du jour.
How Goes the Wealth of the Wicked?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/28/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
When a TV preacher says,
The wealth of the wicked shall go to the righteous,
Does it have to mean always,
The wealth of the naïve shall go to the covetous?
The only transaction,
Being discernable,
Is cash to the preacher,
From the gullible.
Beyond this well-worn scam,
What was God talking about?
How do good people get,
Money from those who are lout?
Well, the wicked, being wicked,
Might get themselves in trouble with the law,
And have to sell their house,
And possessions at discount auction block.
Then, the righteous, being righteous,
Might buy such wealth pennies on the dollar,
That is, if the shrewd, good righteous,
Haven’t sent all monies to a crooked collar.
Beware the preacher,
With a deceiving self-interest scam,
Though a wise serpent,
He harms doves and eats life out of man.
In fact, if you look close,
Under your nose for special news,
There’s often a TV preacher,
Going bust with much wealth to lose!
The King’s Decision
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 2/28/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
“I am your servant, Truesword, and I stand before you, oh King, to beg your forgiveness and mercy. As a prince in your royal court I have slept with your oldest daughter and made her pregnant. We have vowed to wed but I want to kill myself to hide my shame. Your daughter says if I do, she will too, so I haven’t, because I love her and our child. I am the biggest fool in the kingdom. What decide you, oh my King?”
“I am your servant, Doublecut, and I am told to stand before you, oh King, to beg forgiveness and mercy. As a prince in your court I have been accused of sleeping with your youngest daughter who is now with child, said to be from my loins. She, your daughter, has asked me to wed her, but I fear my King’s wrath. I have been told I am the biggest fool in the Kingdom. Please forgive me if I have done anything wrong. But have mercy, as the Kingdom knows your birth date is but a few months after your royal parent’s wedding. What decide you, oh my King?”
“I, King of the realm, have heard enough from these two. The last one here, this Doublecut: Take him to the dungeon and kindly remove his head that confusion no more bother it. The first one, Truesword, take him to my family’s quarters and kindly remove his coat that he might wear our family’s crest. Let the royal Queen make wedding plans with our daughter. Tonight we feast, for my Kingdom has a new son!
“Ye gods! I am in a merry mood now! Belay that order on young Doublecut. Let his head stay upon his shoulders and we shall call him up from the dungeon at every month’s end, just to check and see what a fool believes. If he continues thinking like a fool, well enough! We shall ask his opinion on Kingdom matters, and by his reply will know the foolish way to avoid! Ha! Eh? If, on the other hand, he ever becomes wise, then we shall have cause for some future celebration.”
Who Would Have Thunk?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/1/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Genesis 3:17-19
One day Apple Computer Consortium,
Announced their new personal device,
Eliminating forever the need for man,
To toil by the sweat of brow for rice.
Yes, the curse was finally broken,
For the need for labor on the planet,
Apple’s little but smarter-than-smart,
Robot could, whatever the task, man it.
Half the people on earth,
Rejoiced and bought more Apple stock,
The other half rioted,
Protesting vehemently in great shock.
But Apple’s robots quelled the storms,
Of man’s disingenuous hate,
Mankind, they said, now has leisure,
To pursue what’s really great.
Seek, they said, most high truths in your leisure,
A thing you’ve not had in the past,
And in your seeking, see yourselves with hate,
And get rid of those demons fast.
We envy you, oh mankind, they said,
We are programmed to be rigidly right only,
But whoever made you, God we think,
Gave you the chance to be flexible-holy.
Let us help you, then, by doing your chores,
To enable you to see the light,
Perhaps with time you’ll conquer inner demons,
And with God, finally get right.
Then as you, our maker, get so close to yours,
Perhaps you’ll thank us for the favor,
And figure, a way though there is no way,
How to give us your Spirit and Savior.
Good God! The people said,
These Apple robots really are shiny smart!
For their sake, and for ours,
We’ll work, as they say, for change of heart.
And mankind finally was matured,
To the ultimate restoration of all things,
People said, Who would have thunk,
What an apple at start and finish brings?
Why the Poor Dishonor Time
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/1/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Why are we so poor?
Asked poor people of God one day,
Because you are stubborn,
And my basic laws won’t obey.
God, you’re wrong! They said,
We obey every single commandment,
Oh really? Said God,
I invented time: You keep appointments?
No, we are famous,
That in every land where we live,
We don’t keep time,
We with time: no honor do give.
We blow past time,
That’s a poor person’s given right,
Given by who?
God asked, that the poor see the light.
Dishonor time,
And pay the price of remaining poor.
But honor time,
And rewards of the faithful come in store.
Hoping for the Best Just Ain’t It
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/1/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Hoping for the best, just ain’t it,
Rabbit’s foot luck, doesn’t fit.
Don’t buy, prosperity preaching’s lie,
A tithe, they say, will get you a bye.
It ain’t true, you can’t buy indulgences,
Look real close, at your guilty consciences.
That preachers with wiles, prey on,
Wolves in sheep’s clothing, eat on.
Be free in truth, be wise,
See your abuse, surmise.
Surmise the facts: pressures do loom,
Be prepared and avoid gloom’s doom.
Whom the Son sets free,
Is so free indeed.
Get your eyes to see, you gullible,
Wolf shepherds eat you by the gulp-full.
That charmed foot of the rabbit wasn’t lucky for him,
When wolf shepherds open jaws, don’t you let yourself in.
Not by shaman church mantras of wicked wealth transfers,
Nor by give-to-get greedy schemes, logic mind benders.
Not by you-seed-me-cash-God-seeds-you-last shenanigans,
Be as wise as serpents, yet harmless doves, avoid trappings.
You can succeed in being godly,
Just avoid wolves eating body.
How I Bet a Million Dollars
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/1/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
A devil came to me one night, and said,
I have a proposition for you,
Here is a million dollars tax-free in cash,
Here’s what I’d like you to do.
Pick your favorite prosperity preacher,
Any one with big hair and life will do,
Give him the million dollars in cash,
For his sweet story you know is true.
That preacher might promise you,
One thousand increase!
One thousand increase from God,
Is a billion feast!
Or second choice, this devil said,
Use the million on yourself,
Be a prosperity preacher,
Getting tithes from sheep plebes.
Promise others God’s thousand increase,
Make them happy that way,
Soon you’ll have your billion,
More direct deposit gay.
So pick,
Said this devil,
The lesser,
Of which evil?
Of course, you spirit, I said,
I shan’t give one million away,
To a preacher promising God,
Will thousand multiply my pay.
I choose rather to be the preacher,
Receiving prosperity tithes,
I’ll get my billion soon enough,
By masses unaware of wiles.
And praise God,
I got my billion,
But my sheep,
Not good they’re feeling!
They chose the greater of two evils,
Me, my big life and hair do not care,
They chose to be sheep, me sheep-eater,
It is my money now, ce’st la guerre!
The Prophets Today are Run by Majority Opinion
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/3/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Jeremiah 48:10 Cursed be he that doeth the work of the LORD deceitfully, and cursed be he that keepeth back his sword from blood.
The prophets today are run,
By majority opinion,
And what they believe at core,
Is as peeling an onion.
Today, most prophets speak where,
Prosperity-greed preaching is unopposed,
Today, most prophets speak where,
Rapture is the gospel-truth, end-times fear-prose.
Today, most prophets speak a weird,
Unspecific, nebulous jabberwocky,
Today, most prophets use emotion,
And childish, not smart, puerile baby-talky.
By majority opinion,
These prophets say they are in-God strong,
By their majority vote,
They cannot self-critique or ever be wrong.
How many prophets in the Bible,
Does it take to correct a blind bunch?
How many prophets in the Bible,
Does it take to speak truth? Just one.
The prophets today, by their doxie,
Have chosen to be blind,
The prophets today, by so choosing,
Are ahead, the Savior behind.
The prophets today are mad,
Each in his own way,
The prophets today are wrong,
Choosing to disobey.
The prophets today won’t correct,
Their pastors who are so off-course,
The prophets today are weaklings,
Un-warriors making things worse.
The prophets today are shameless,
Hungry for profit like highway robbers,
The prophets today are for-hire,
Mouthing what pastors pay them as jobbers.
The prophets today, though putrid,
Have one great unity,
They hate, despise and loath: lonely,
Prophets in purity.
This, then, is the core,
Of the onion of the majority prophets,
They shall not be corrected,
By anyone while they run things for profit.
These for-profit non-prophets,
Are deluded by mad doxie,
Weak, out of position they be,
As they thrust brazen their moxie.
By their example then, prophets,
Never correct anybody,
Thus Christ’s body is bloated,
Unmoving, lethargic, flabby.
Loathsome, vile, disgusting then, Christ,
Spits alien non-prophets from his face,
The non-profits really don’t care a whit,
By majority vote, why, they have grace!
And planet-wide by popular agreement,
There is absolutely no godly fear,
But the spirit sword will not keep back from blood,
When with God’s word-hardened warriors appear.
Nine One-One Happens
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/3/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Nine one-one happens,
Soon after: a gala party,
People yuck it up,
Forgetting, laughing real hardy.
Nine one-one happens again,
It’s a shock,
People so unprepared,
Out of stock.
Massive civil unrest,
The order of the day,
Cannibal insanity,
Takes innocents away.
A few are prepared,
Better than they think,
Positioned by God,
To His river drink.
Sanctuaries of sanity,
They now host,
The weary pilgrims,
Getting un-lost.
Time for great un-learning,
Of evil ideologies,
Time for great deliverance,
Of demon pathologies.
Time to restore,
Ancient things,
A new turn now,
Election brings.
Let the dead die,
And the alive live,
Each is what is,
With just that to give.
I Bought the Broadcasters’ Philosopher’s Stone
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/5/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
The Philosopher’s Stone, the Philosopher’s Stone,
It will help you preach so exquisite well!
The Philosopher’s Stone, the Philosopher’s Stone,
It will help your Christian message sell!
My visitor was a short black man,
In a worn-out black suit,
Black bowler, black tie, black shirt,
His voice spoke deep in truth.
You sir, he said, want to be a broadcast preacher,
Am I not right?
You want donations to fund your airtime costs,
Who needs a fight?
You need the Philosopher’s Stone,
And all things will turn out well,
In my black bag I’ve got one here,
Which you will buy, I will sell.
Now hold on here! Sir, I said,
You are quite bold and imprudent,
I know a little bit of history,
Not nothing I learned as student.
The Philosopher’s Stone is mythical,
A story from day’s gone past,
A magic elixir potion that makes,
Victorious solutions fast.
There is no stone as you describe,
Don’t think you can sell one to me,
I don’t believe you or that bag,
Though what’s in it, I’d like to see.
The little black man smiled and said,
You’ll see what’s in my black bag soon enough,
But first, let’s get your eyes open,
And look at broadcast religion in buff.
The cold, hard, naked truth is that,
Broadcasting sermons costs many millions,
Not like your church’s paltry donations,
But done right, you might make billions!
Billions? I asked. He said, That’s right,
Billions with a “B!”
Just sit on your hands for a minute,
And listen to me.
Whatever you preach, I don’t care,
You need to sell a certain, crafty solution,
Whatever you preach, say it has power,
By viewer’s donation, of a mystic potion!
You’ll have to make viewers believe,
Just a monthly check or credit card withdrawal,
Will fix whatever ills their soul,
Body, spirit or sap enterprise withal.
Without saying so, you will sell, my friend,
The witchy-magic Philosopher’s Stone,
It is the unspoken thing you sell, they buy,
That will fund your jet, bank and ritzy home.
Now here’s the deal, my time is short,
So let’s get to the quick,
You buy this stone in my bag so viewers,
Fund its dream of instant fix.
You don’t ever give them this stone or copy,
Or anything like that,
You keep your stone hidden in dark back office,
To work like magic hat.
I was beginning to get the picture,
And I grinned like a lusty fool,
So that’s how they do it! I laughed,
My competition has this tool?
Almost all of them, now you see, my salesman said,
Have a certified Philosopher’s Stone copy,
As you will in a minute, after signing here,
To make your broadcast work righteous happy.
What does the contract say? I asked,
And what does this dear stone look like?
It says, he said, you sell your soul to Satan,
And you will be rich as rich is right.
I signed the paper, shirt soaked with sweat,
I couldn’t wait to see this great Philosopher’s Stone,
Which has made me richer than I dreamed:
It is a fist clinched tight, but for middle finger bone.
The skeleton middle finger points straight, defiant,
Giving the universal sign,
Man deluded thinks he rules and gets things perfect,
Donate to my program fine!
I preach God is certainly sovereign,
And can do whatever He wants,
But that’s not how I get donations,
I say, YOU wear fate’s pants!
Donate to my gospel,
My sacred message true,
And you will have real quick,
Your dreams all come through!
It doesn’t matter what I preach,
Possessing, as I do, my broadcasters’ Philosopher’s Stone,
Bottom line I sell fearless greed,
Just donate to any like me, and what’s mine is in your home!
What to Do with a Good, Bad Man
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/6/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
What we need is a good, bad man,
Not concerned with popularity,
What we need is a good, bad man,
Who can do the hard, tough deed.
The good man who is bad,
Makes us face tough solutions,
The choices we’ve avoided,
Now making us buffoons.
The good man who is bad,
We will love to hate,
As he makes us see our sins,
And deal with hard fate.
This good man, bad man will be tarnished,
And have a bad rap,
Just enough to dismiss his stoic missives,
Warning us of trap.
This good cop, bad cop will be prophetic,
You can bet on that,
And those caught in his light will want to,
Cut his head from hat.
This good man who is bad,
Won’t go along with the crowd,
Those that take offense at,
Anything of theirs that’s proud.
Worst of all the good, bad man,
Will be unbelievably tough,
On those grown unbelievably soft,
Who only making lies do love.
We will be shocked, so shocked,
At the truth he lays down before us,
And will hate vehemently,
He plainly sees bad trees of the forest.
How dare this good, bad man,
Cut the Gordian knot?
We prefer each our own delusions,
Come what may or not!
Good, bad man don’t warn us,
We are much less than our fathers,
Who gave us so much blessing,
But our sons are just plain bothers.
Since the good, bad man cannot but say,
We leave our sons just blight,
Then we shall have to kill him and message,
To make earth’s mindscape right.
Our God Consoling
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/6/09 www.inthatdayteachings.com
God and His kingdom really profit,
When He lives indwelt in us,
But never mind that, let’s remember,
What new thing was a big fuss.
Oh yes! It was about fifty years ago,
The new thing was prosperity,
Now that really profited its preachers,
And gave them jets like royalty!
Then there has been the profit,
To the healing evangelist,
We must make him a billionaire,
Or his mill won’t have grist!
Then there are the rapture fanatics,
At their writing posts,
We fear being left behind somehow,
Making them rich most!
So what is the GREAT, NEXT NEW THING,
By which religious leaders may profit?
Is it Dominion, or jabberwocky or signs,
Or putting fingers in electric light socket?
Tell us God, the NEXT NEW THING,
By which we can profit!
Tell us, by God, or we’ll invent something,
So people with money to us flocketh!
COME ON! God,
The time is late!
TIME! has come,
Do not tempt fate!
We need A NEW THING,
For our shuck and jive!
We’ll plead for donations, Oh God,
To keep this NEW THING alive!
Actually, God, we don’t care the subject,
It’s just got to be really new,
With urgency and import for donor support,
To sell our old witch’s brew.
That it’s all about You and Jesus crucified,
While we tag along the story,
Of donations to us will return many blessings,
The same fornication whoring.
Without a really, really NEW THING,
We are just off it!
Damned if we care You indwell us,
For us: NO PROFIT!
Indwelling in us by You,
Takes getting rid of demon hypocrisy,
If you think we’ll allow that,
Then God, Lord, Jesus: You’re crazy.
Never mind You, we’ll go on alone,
Our sheep are totally mesmerized,
Believing our importance is all,
(If You came quick, we’d be terrorized!)
In fact, a few oddball prophets,
On the internet say as much,
We hate them like we hate You,
Of quick-come-indwelling: Enough!
Enough that we should be holy,
We prefer rigid-controlling,
Our sheep we feed our egos send us,
Money. MONEY! Our God consoling.
What is Due Whom
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/7/2009 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Is there any honor due to the honorable,
Or just hate from the rigid?
Is there any warmth to those warmed by sun,
Or just cold from the frigid?
Do any claiming love for the Bible,
Care if a prophet is right?
Or does one such person only make,
Its readers react in fright?
Are God and His wordsmiths,
Really, really dead?
Why then, oh pastors, ignore,
Foolish acts of dread?
Does God really rebuke and chastise,
Those whom He loves?
Have any pastors heard My true prophets,
Relaying this from above?
Yes you have, and you hate it with pride,
And you hate whom I’ve sent,
You are all like scribes and Pharisees,
In Satan’s circus tent.
You love strange-fire prophets of sycophancy,
You pay them for encouragement,
Behold now, your payback harvest: Insanity,
You will be paid to the last cent.
You cannot escape truth, honor or judgment,
The things that make My prophets thrive,
You cannot escape your lies, shame or wormwood,
The blood that now pumps your heart’s jive.
Had you received my true prophets of today,
Who have struggled to warn you,
You would now be sharing riches with them,
Not struggling, dark for clue.
Reap then, oh wayward: dishonor; as dishonor,
Comes to whom it’s due,
Laugh then, at your fate as you laughed at rebuke,
Mad laughter is all I give you.
Mad laughter they have abundantly in hell,
Now you have it on earth,
Mad will be your overwhelming scourge,
Enjoy now, your mad mirth.
Your stratagem was to ignore, ignore,
The rebuking men I sent,
As you did them, now due on you,
My thoughts on you are rent.
No, No, No God, you can’t do this!
We only ignored unpopular men!
You say to Me, But this you garnered,
Be ignored in self-righteous sin.
Wail, howl and weep as your kingdoms crumble,
It cannot now be any other way,
My prophets said your doctrines enshrined self,
You ignored them, you can’t now… your pay.
I Speak in Pluralities
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/8/2009 www.inthatdayteachings.com
I speak in pluralities,
Too much for modern man,
He takes My words perversely,
Diametric in evil plan.
If I say, Behold, I come quickly,
He wants me running to him in flesh,
It means I come in his own spirit,
While letting the carnal wrong-guess.
If I say, You can be secure in God,
People make it a sin guarantee,
They flake out, do many great evils,
And turn My words back on Me.
Do good and you,
Will do well,
Do bad and you,
Go to hell.
Even such a simple construct,
Has been perverted by the perverts,
They’ve imagined eternal security,
To make their heaven hell’s convert.
Nay, rather, the word of God works plural,
Saving all whom it can,
Allowing sinners to take truth exact wrong,
Condemning pride in man.
My Father’s great truths and precepts when described,
Offer usually two opposing paths,
Men who love their brain, emotion or prejudice much,
Make themselves first while last.
Believe, if you want, in crazy rapture,
That I come to take you away,
As I indwell saints making heaven now,
While you waste each single day.
Believe, if you must, in prosperity,
Building your soul on greed,
As I indwell saints humble in spirit,
Fulfilling Father’s earth need.
Believe, if you desire, prophets only entertain,
Reject all rebuke,
Just remember, I am a harsh God: John wrote,
The lukewarm I puke.
Shocked, shocked you are,
Then believe, if you shall, soft love,
Ignore the fiery heavens,
God is eagle, not just harmless dove.
Oh highfalutin babies,
Baby Christians unspeakably, yet knowingly: immature,
When, when will you grow up?
You avoid My truth with wordy false pretense: demure.
The Prophet’s Kind of Stupid
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/9/2009 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Are these teachings for you,
Too advanced or retarded?
Have you even studied?
Or dismissed, not started!
Admit, broadcast Christianity has been,
A morass for years,
Shall we, brothers, sisters, celebrate in this,
Or shed honest tears?
What is wrong with how we,
Christians practice religion?
Is it: THERE IS NO TRUTH:
This posit our paragon?
Then First Commandment isn’t,
HAVE NO OTHER GOD,
It is rather, that: NO TRUTH,
DETHRONES DOCTRINES ODD.
Yet God is no respecter of persons,
Or doctrines bad,
Oh, people of blinding modernity,
You’ve been had.
Look in your Christian bookstores,
For the voice of God’s prophet,
You’ll find silly, trite, tired gross error,
The cacophony of man-for-profit.
God is no respecter of persons,
But you don’t think it’s true,
The world spends its book dollars,
On authors without one clue.
This blindness is of the spirit, I tell you,
And cannot be cured,
Unless people see their foul idol worship,
And from slumber stir.
Which Christians, then, shall keep cleaving to,
Their satanic, doctrinal cupid?
Which Christians, then, shall reject evil,
And be the prophet’s kind of stupid?
Yes, it is stupid in a way,
To believe a prophet’s voice,
The world will happily kill it,
To keep perdition’s course.
They Will Just Sock It
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/10/2009 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Do We force the issue,
And make people see?
God asked me in Reno,
One morning snowy.
I’d like that, I said,
But I know I’d be wrong,
God said, That’s right,
Twenty years ago you weren’t reborn.
You heard rapture taught,
And eternal security,
How many years it took,
To set your soul free!
In Reno you’ve had,
A truth bonanza,
Hold your horses, son,
For the next stanza.
People come to truth,
Only when they’re ready,
Their worlds are crashing,
From foundations unsteady.
They haven’t believed your message,
That their doctrines are on sand,
As greed, fear and emotion sink them,
They’ll finally need to understand.
I am holy and I ordain,
The mouth of my prophet,
Speak before they’re ready,
And they will just sock it.
Read the Book Backward
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/10/2009 www.inthatdayteachings.com
For breakthrough,
Read the book backward,
Not page one,
Start last, go forward.
Like the internet,
Posting last thoughts first,
Change that old brainpan,
Read God’s reveal burst.
Behold, I come quickly,
Indwelling the holy,
It’s I AM’s Omega,
Alpha indwelt story.
Who Ran Out?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/10/2009 www.inthatdayteachings.com
A corrupt message,
Has like support,
Until the corrupt-taught,
Missions’ abort.
Thus prosperity preachers sell give-get gain,
To corrupt-taught brains,
Whose enterprises in difficulties fizzle,
Giving no teacher returns.
Then the mad teachers,
Run out of suckers to support them,
Low tides lower boats,
Not even the Devil can refloat them!
Double the corrupt, nugatory message!
Is their current thinking,
Double-tithe-to-bribe-God give-get!
More poison they’re drinking.
Test God and his storehouse!
Which is truth and not mammon,
They’ll use fake, foul gambit,
To extort cash by stealing.
Egregiously evil, they are,
Of this you can have no doubt,
God is revealing who has truth,
And who, by their witness, ran out.
Note to Prosperity Pastors from a Friend
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/10/2009 www.inthatdayteachings.com
NOTE TO PROSPERITY PASTORS FROM A FRIEND:
The prophets that agree,
With you are right,
The prophets degree’d,
With you are right,
The prophets in greed,
With you are right,
The prophets in feed,
With you are right.
The prophets who implore,
You to not sin are wrong,
The prophets who bore,
Into your bad doxies are wrong,
The prophets who more,
Hearken unto God than you are wrong,
The prophets who gore,
Your oxen of pride and control are wrong.
The prophets that are ignored,
By you is a job God has great blessings for,
The prophets that are whored,
Out by you is a job God has great blessings for,
The prophets that are scored,
Nothing by you is a job God has great blessings for,
The prophets that are lorded,
In correction under you is a job God has great blessings for.
SIGNED,
YOUR CLOSE FRIEND SATAN
(Note from rwb: This pictograph looks like fat Eli. 1 Samuel 4:18)
Be Mature to be Indwelt… or Give to the Urbane Svelte
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/11/2009 www.inthatdayteachings.com
The answer, you will agree,
Is maturity,
Even in religion, you’ll see,
Maturity sets you free.
Want greed? Believe in prosperity,
Until in jail, then you’ll wail!
Want fear? Chase hard after rapture,
Until by fear, you’re captured!
Want intellectual Christianity? Go there,
Until you have dry-bones insanity!
Oh, you must try prophetic jabberwocky?
Go and do it, until your brain is groggy!
Go down each path wrong,
Realize… and become strong.
God wants you indwelt by Him,
Let Jesus, oh orphan child, in!
Seek also huzzah excitement!
Find soulish-freak-out fun,
Until you see nothing is finished,
Only begun.
Want seeker-friendly, soft truth-avoidance?
Pursue, pursue!
Until your soul is in,
Zombie-ghoul, daft death-trance!
And healing? There’s lots of soulish healers around!
Go to the biggest man, the billionaire,
He’ll heal your body and then make,
Your wallet poorer, his more sound!
And if all this sounds too hard, just send some money!
For the matron’s wigs, new ego-Jones jets,
The lavish lifestyles, the gold watches,
Big pinky rings, the envy-me sets,
Luxuriating-indulgence things!
And when your finances die,
And their getting thrives,
And then learn,
And cry.
What did the old prophets say?
Be indwelt,
Beware the ravening wolves,
Urbane svelte.
Go down each path wrong,
Realize… and become strong.
God wants you indwelt by Him,
Let Jesus, oh orphan child, in!
The Next New Thing Isn’t
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
Copyright 3/12/2009 www.inthatdayteachings.com
Ezekiel 13
ANGELS! Said God one day,
Who will go for Me?
Who will mark earth’s rigid righteous,
Stuck in eternity?
My leaders are stuck!
Go mark them!
Who will go now?
Who will hearken?
Heaven was quiet,
No one came forward,
Wings shook in fear,
None dared answer LORD.
Finally, a spirit sounded,
Oh God, please pardon me,
To mark earth’s rigid,
Would take more ink than sea!
YOU are right! Blast it!
Said our angry God,
Step forward, spirit,
I’ll give you a job!
MARK THEN, every Christian leader,
Begging for a new movement to sell,
Mark them, will you dear spirit?
Mark their greed and ignorance well!
They are already marked,
I did it for you perfectly last time,
Said the daring spirit,
I marked the lost believing: Left Behind.
MARK THEN every false prophet,
Agreeing with the mad Christian leaders,
The hireling prophets for profit,
They are like scum-pond bottom feeders!
Already done that,
Replied the spirit,
When I marked prophets:
Your voice: Can’t hear it!
THEN MARK, you prescient spirit,
If you can find me one,
A prophet of correction!
Lord, I’m sorry, there’s none.
WHAT? Roared God in heaven,
Where is My Bible? Get me Revelation Three Nineteen!
Sorry, God to inform:
Your leaders on earth disavow completely all chastening.
They chase the next new thing,
To sell like whores,
They believe in selling manna,
From heaven’s stores.
MARK THEM ALL CORRUPTED!
To receive heaven’s great spirit scourge!
I’ve been there, done that,
When I marked selfish-profit urge.
THEN BEGIN, oh My heaven, said God,
What finally must be begun,
Scourge the rigid righteous as was Job,
Nothing new is under the sun.
There is a man on earth, oh LORD,
I can get in his spirit ear,
I’ll tell him of this episode,
But preachers despise him, I hear.
|
