Above all a good heaven,
In That Day TeachingsReno, Nevada
"There are a thousand hacking at the branches
2/4/2010
Revival’s Curious Demagoguery
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 2/4/10
W hy can’t revival be discernment against demagoguery,
Instead of acquiescence to same?
Lie down! Die down! Die down! And be supine submissive,
That’s the conner’s revival game!
Nothing wrong with healing or refreshing,
In an energized-for-that arena,
Except that politics and low business,
Duplicates the acquiescence Purina!
Die down and take it!
Bam, bam, bam!
Perfect elixir?
Or a sham!
Do laid-down sheep then see,
Hypnotism’s ruses?
Or will they be raped next,
By whomever chooses?
Dumb is,
As dumb does,
Lie down,
Get the buzz!
Impart, impart, impart!
Acquiescence to hypnotic-shenanigan demagoguery?
Is it high or low art?
Wouldn’t a wise person ask: What is the cost to this slavery?
Is revival so sweet and revival so dear,
As to be purchased with chains of slavery?
Hush up! Hush up! Hush up! Say wolves in fear,
Revival pays us well, who cares of knavery?
Don’t submit to Islam,
Lie down to revival’s big shenanigan?
Acquiesce to our big bam,
Turn off brain, have emotions born again?
Shepherds of demagogue revival,
Weep! Wail! And Howl!
Your blind-dumb sheep shall be overwhelmed,
By next wolf fowl!
You have made your sheep,
To believe a conning, blinding, low-level revival,
Shall help, not worsen,
Acquiesced, undiscerning souls from statist upheaval.
America has been ruined,
By self-interested wolves of demagoguery,
Low-level demagogue church,
Isn’t a fix, it’s an increased rogue’s gallery!
Weep! Wail! Howl!
In That Day,
Cons seen! And,
Done away!
It’s just more rogue-doctrine roulette,
Damn the consequential knowledge!
Cheap revival hurts discernment,
Another hidden-slavery college.
As rapture makes fear,
Prosper makes greed,
Revival makes slaves,
Slouch fills all need.
Those four doctrines of broadcast church,
Have consequences to their impartation,
Despite winking protests of enriched wolves,
Bottom line: They create a slave nation.
In That Day Unbound
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 2/3/10
I see a day coming,
When American Christian are free,
Coming days of La Mancha,
Without rapture-prosper-slouch, we see!
Instead of zombie eyes and zombie lies,
People bring out God in each other!
Instead of zombie leer and zombie fear,
People honor God in Christ’s brother!
I see a day coming,
When the children of our children laugh,
At their grand folk’s blindness,
And the expense of a century’s blind bath!
Christians generally blind,
To hidden progressive socialism for a century,
Because at church behind,
In fear, greed and slouch from Satan’s doxie tree.
Some rock and roll more pure,
More true in spirit than wispy praise,
That mesmerized millions,
Hypnotized in dark-art, one-chord craze.
I see dust-and-ego-fed sheep,
Discovering high alpine green pastures!
Some sheep even sprout feathers,
Flying high: screaming eagle go-getters!
This, in relative penury and obscurity,
I see,
Damn me or bless me for seeing this freedom,
I weep.
I weep! I wail! I howl!
For blind wolves eating sheep unawares,
I see! I see! I see!
I refuse to believe: Nobody cares.
Then freed up, I see children playing,
I hear women laughing out loud,
Then freed up, I see men folk singing,
Their spirit and truth makes me proud!
In the movie, Guys and Dolls,
Frank Sinatra works on Marlon Brando a conning trick,
Crediting his father, Brando,
Sees through the wile, forgiving, that nothing stick!
Wolf-shepherds now provide,
An endless river of conning tricks,
To imbibe the great lies,
Of fear-greed-slouch chow, a maddening mix!
Behold, God can’t come quickly,
And live in such sheep inside!
Not when blind wolves in the ditch,
Take the unbeknownst for ride!
Yet given truth and right spirit,
The good ship Christianity can turn around,
Imbued quickly at once at last,
God lives in man, man lives in God unbound!
Just Twelve Books
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 2/2/10
T ry three books times four,
What do you say?
Let’s experiment,
In That Day!
Read three rapture books,
They let in all fear!
Afterwards then,
Will you hug what’s near?
Where’s the love?
Where’s the joy?
Where’s our God?
GONE! Oh boy!
Now, read three prosper books,
They let in all greed!
Afterwards then,
Same test indeed!
Where’s the love?
Where’s the joy?
Where’s our God?
GONE! Oh boy!
Now, read three slouch books,
They let in all craziness!
Afterwards then test,
Has your soul got laziness?
Where’s the love?
Where’s the joy?
Where’s our God?
GONE! Oh boy!
Now read three,
In That Day Teachings books,
Then test self,
Have eyes now better spirit looks?
Increased love?
Increased joy?
God inside?
NOW? Oh boy!
Just twelve books,
Proved something great!
God in man,
In That Day, not late!
Truth is not afraid,
Against a test of lies,
Experiment then,
Who sells good undisguised?
He who opens eyes,
In That Day sells truth,
He who closes them,
That man’s books: forsooth!
Oh blind generation,
God wants to indwell you!
See who deceives sheep!
Turn around, be imbued!
Look Around
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 2/2/10
L ook around, and what do you see?
Look! Look with eyes of history.
Our world is economic, intellectual, military, political, social, religious,
In that same order it goes from dominate to retarded ridiculous.
Economic titans dominate nations, in fact the planet!
Poorest in performance: religion. Who can understand it?
Where is true freedom found in this mix?
Start at religion. There is your fix!
The cruel opposite is now globally in place,
Mammon enthroned, ministries in disgrace.
Broadcast religious wile-shenanigans mimic hidden economic entrapments,
Or teach political, social institutions better slavery of thought enhancements!
See too-big-to-fail ruses as indicator,
Decentralization is today’s liberator!
Ultimate decentralized good is God within,
Retarded religion should be ushering that in!
The end game of Western Civilization and God’s good,
Is God indwelling those of spirit and truth as He would.
Religion now prevaricates in gross, low immaturity,
While economic titans dominate sans God’s verity.
But religious leaders are too proud to admit,
The things of immaturity they must quit.
Much of the world is enslaved in bad thought, bad notions,
Greed, fear and slouch are religion’s faux elixir potions.
God has allowed religious immaturity for us to see,
What happens when the economic and intellect takes its fee.
Weep! Wail! Howl! Oh, religious leaders infantile!
Grow up In That Day. Come now to truth, not bile.
Look around: Centralized power corrupts all,
Yet truth lives In That Day to break the cabal.
See globally, see wide-angle, see within,
God-in-us must be over all of us winning.
Maturity is dedication to mutual restraint’s good,
That is God-indwelling as spirit and truth would.
Indwelling is the next dimension to occupy!
Truth in us full In That Day. God does not lie.
1/31/2010
How Shall We Be?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/31/10
T he unexamined life is not worth living,
Yet unexamined church is worth giving?
And, what good tomes would be on the ideal “five-foot shelf”?
Yet five feet of televangelist books are oft great-thought bereft!
We must give life and thought and religion a knowing look,
But ministries imply he who would inspect them is a kook!
Unknown things are a fertile field for those who would deceive and dupe us,
Montaigne spoke of In That Day when insight of more quick comes upon us!
Comparative religion studies Hindu, Muslim, Judeo-Christian religions,
No one is to compare whacky, slacky broadcast Christian shenanigans?
The arborist digs at the gnarled trunk and tangled roots,
To learn why the fair apple blossom has ruined shoots.
One hundred years ago, things began to be made in streamline,
Now, the world is greatly enslaving souls, yet hidden sublime!
A word or classic work fitly spoken is of gold,
Every age has its prophets who don’t grow old.
Their master spirits embalmed in great work lasting beyond life,
I give you mine In That Day to see covert wrong and clear right.
Fear, greed and slouch are fundamental elements of the soul,
Sold by fey ministries, hidden, that the gullible: quick enroll.
The mystery of Christ is His now indwelling,
And honoring the imbued the world is felling.
Pride in religion cannot honor that,
The non-indwelt won’t eat their hat.
They hate In That Day and all who explain more about it,
When the truthful see lies, despite how liars coyly laud it.
Has this work been a successful expression?
Has it been God-imbued or a sinful mission?
I then ask, Haven’t you seen such things and felt this way?
Or shall we be desolate, duped and deceived In That Day?
Joshua wrote four times: Be strong and of a good courage,
That’s what it will take, beloved, in this In That Day age!
Despite tribulation, nothing’s better than God within,
In pain, in suffering, in joy: love without, love in Him.
Have faith, you are not crazy if you see,
In That Day that is what it takes to be.
What is In That Day?
The God in you way.
Man in God, God in man, (Except the blighted!)
That now we understand. (They can’t be righted!)
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hip-hip hurray!
Surprised all indwelt of God are: In That Day!
Slaying in the Spirit (of Dark Art Pride)
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/29/10
A s an instructor for one year,
In Russian Martial Art,
We take each other down oft,
Gently our power impart.
To take a person down,
Tilt their head back,
Or push hands back and ‘round,
They’re down like that!
Standing shoulder-to-shoulder,
Gets people’s feet together,
Perhaps catchers hold backs low,
Fulcrum’s set! Touch feather.
Just a feather’s touch,
Is all you need,
Heels together tight,
Energy: feed!
Say, Touch! Or Fire! Or,
Just blow hard your breath,
Down goes the person,
Not: mysterious!
So it’s not really so mysterious,
To me, a martial art man,
But unexplained in church: it’s rude,
An ugly shenanigan.
Do church folk honestly,
Take down each other?
Well no, they do not,
Shepherds keep cover.
The master shepherd slayer,
Pushes ‘em all down,
Energy player he,
Never reverse found!
So In That Day,
Martial artists can explain to sheep,
Shepherd slayers,
Need to teach sheep this soft-energy feat.
It is not hard really,
To knock us bipeds off-balance, (Even without touch!)
What’s hard, In That Day is,
Pride to drink humble chalice. (That’s asking too much!)
The goal in Russian martial Art,
Is to do permanent damage to one’s own ego!
Not the goal of broadcast shepherds,
They keep arts dark and sheep blind: that power and cash flow!
Oh conning, slaying shepherds,
Teach your sheep the simple take-down martial art,
Heels together, head-arms back,
Our soft-energy is easy, not magic, to impart.
Intelligence and maturity of man,
Will keep growing despite devolved church In That Day,
Martial art teaches the soft-touch takedown,
Is man’s unseen energy, not a mysterious revival way.
Then again, man’s unseen energy,
Is evidence of God-indwelling weak or strong,
So mark the measure high, low or hot,
Sheep and shepherd can be sold short or bought long.
What I am saying of slaying,
In the spirit of true revival,
It can be God or not! So teach,
Sheep both ways: to recognize all!
The Circular Firing Squad is Over
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/28/10
O h, leaders of leaders,
In broadcast Christianity,
Stop firing on yourselves!
It is highest insanity.
Yes, you are frustrated,
In heaven, it is known!
Without true insight,
No fruit: from what’s sown!
So each archetype,
Finds fault with the other,
Enlisting recruits,
To fire on his brother.
Come to truth, come to repentance,
Come to sanity,
Admit faults, admit error,
Embrace verity.
One archetype loves greed,
And sells indulgences,
They deny it and lie,
And build high defenses!
Another archetype loves fear,
And faux intelligence,
Dry-bones, dead whisperers,
Repetition: their offence.
Last archetype loves emotion,
And jabberwocky whatever,
Anything for a fake thrill,
Shenanigans hide and cover.
These are endless loops of lunacy,
Circular mis-reason firing away,
Circular firing squads of false-Christians,
Having their fake, faux, feckless, fey way.
Until seers see sanity,
Hip, hip hurray!
Until more understand,
In That Day!
Leaders of leaders must, in fact,
Pioneer this!
They were born for such a time,
But they’re remiss!
They point to the oppressed Christians in China,
Busy being oppressed,
And see nothing to pioneer in leadership,
Leaving truth un-guessed!
So wake up, leaders of leaders,
Your time is short!
Worship God in spirit and truth,
Or you’ll abort!
Return to some orthodoxy,
Losing fear, greed and weakness emotion!
Your strength shall return! And courage!
Worshipping weakness has been your potion.
What is greed, but idiocy and death?
What is fear, but idiocy and death?
What is faux-intelligence, but idiocy and death?
What is weak-emotion, but idiocy and death?
What is prophetic jabberwocky, but idiocy and death?
What is idiocy and death, but idiocy and death?
Oh leaders of leaders,
You read In That Day writings in shock,
Who else loves you enough,
To: with love, punch out your broken clock?
You, like a stuck clock,
Right only: two times a day,
The charade: over,
In light: see truth’s right way!
Be intelligent, repent in truth,
Show sheep all shenanigan entrapments,
Weep, wail, howl! And God will forgive,
Make all spirit and truth enhancements!
You will discover your praise music,
Will stop: hypnotic repetition,
Low voices will return, sans nasal-whine,
Full power songs, classic creation!
Full-powered stories and parables,
Will return!
Deeper mysteries from the Bible’s stories,
Will hearts burn!
I see this all, and more,
As a seer ahead of the leaders of leaders,
But who will have faith when,
Jesus returns, imbued, to rebuke sheep feeders?
In That Day,
Leaders of leaders think: they pay no price!
If they don’t,
Humble themselves, Christ’s body stays: on ice!
Weep, wail, howl,
In That Day!
Nothing else,
To say.
But that humble pie is now yours,
Free for the taking,
And orthodox soap to wash out,
Hell you’ve been making.
Humble pie,
And orthodox soap,
In That Day,
Your only hope.
What Shall Revival Be?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/27/10
S hall revival be,
Ignorance on parade?
Or was man by God,
For better purpose made?
Shall revival be,
Shouting – pause, shouting – pause, SHOUTING?
Or shall preachers tell,
Of hypnotism’s outing?
Shall revival be,
Left – right pendulum-walking?
Or shall preachers tell,
Like wolves to sheep: they were stalking?
Shall revival be,
An endless, creative stream of demagoguery?
Or shall preachers teach,
Erudition’s ability: to truly see?
Shall revival be,
Multi-syllable only with the name of Guh-Aw-Ud-Dah?
Or shall preachers teach,
Mutual dedication to self-control: we laud?
Shall revival be,
Precursor to hidden, social slavery?
Or shall preachers teach,
How to avoid the conman’s knavery?
Is God,
Or is He not intelligent?
Is man,
Of revival: devolution-sent?
Then, does stupid,
Follow the stupid-taught?
And, must man think,
Revival has no thought?
Man in Seventeen Seventy-Six,
Was revived with a Declaration of Liberty!
Thoughtful men back then made it,
Such erudition we need now: to set us free!
Shall revival be,
Ten-finger pointing, yell-some witchcraft?
Or shall preachers vow,
To orthodoxy and intelligence: stand fast!
Shall revival then be,
Embarrassingly stupid?
Or shall preachers admit,
Satan has been their cupid?
Shall revival be,
When preachers weep, wail and howl?
Confessing charms,
And witchcraft have been their all-and-all?
What shall,
Revival be?
In That Day,
We shall see!
The Critics Who Saw Too Little
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/25/10
O nce a group of critics,
Saw their leaders making mistakes,
On their leaders’ jet planes,
Snow chains on wheels made lots of breaks!
Oh leaders, said the critics,
Remove snow chains from your jet wheels!
And your jets won’t crash so much!
That’s how a seeing critic feels!
But in this crazy desert land,
The critics saw only a little ways,
On each critic’s car were four chains,
Desert snow chains were the modern craze!
Critics, first get rid of snow chains,
On each desert car!
Then tell leaders to do the same,
Then all will see far!
Thus today’s critics of broadcast Christianity,
See only a little ways,
Critics love their rapture fear, prosper greed,
And slouch-monger daze.
Their leaders keep crashing,
That’s obvious to all,
But they won’t admit that,
Lies at root cause each fall.
The fall of modern broadcast Christianity,
Is whorish pursuit of trollop doxie,
Cheap critics prefer to play smash-the-mole,
Rather than identify false gods in proxy.
Rapture is a lie from hell,
For it fills people with fear!
Give-to-get creates greed,
And slouch won’t draw God near!
That’s why a true prophet,
Says weep, wail, howl,
False ones want revival,
With demons fowl!
Near-sighted critics,
With fear, greed and slouch within,
Reject discipline,
Repentance and true seeing.
Oh shepherds, beware!
Discernment and intelligence is rising,
Spirits of: you care!
Sheep shall surpass your low surmising.
All shall see when you speak of rapture,
You bring into the assembly: great fear!
When prosperity: great evil greed,
And of slouch: dissipation’s rude gear.
And all shall see shenanigans,
The thousands of speaker’s tricks to blind,
Shepherds of ease! Oh shepherds!
In stupor you’re about to be left behind!
Yes, you see leaders,
Leaders in trouble,
But wrong doctrine,
Is the bad bubble.
Pop it!
It will splat!
Stop it!
In Day That!
The Newly Un-latent’s Unchecked Besmirching
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/24/10
T he next dimension,
Is honor to another,
Down the road further,
Further than his brother.
Now, some leaders have awakened,
To the colossal Christian ships now sinking!
But honor they can’t give,
Rescuers long-prepared for this hour’s stinking.
So, our newly not-latent leaders,
Look askance at them going afore,
And call them: just one more bad,
Whore!
You newly un-latent dummies,
Wake up and see!
In That Day Teachings explain much!
See more humbly.
By rejecting the greater,
With the lesser,
You miss the point of honor,
As besmirch’er.
Give honor,
To whom honor is due,
And you might,
Be more God-imbued!
Then, the newly un-latent might still,
Love rapture’s fear, prosper’s greed and weakness slouch!
And still not see that taken to the max,
It’s what hurts the top leaders. So arise, get off stupor couch!
Lonesome Indwelling
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/20/10
T he world is strongly bifurcated,
As seen with eyes to see,
Each world pressing against the other,
Eternal fight: Who’s free?
How quick can we be deceived,
Is it fast and easy?
Or does it take a whole lot,
Before giving up queasy?
Or will we go to hell,
Never saying die!
Even there, dead, we can’t,
Say the foul lie.
What is the foul lie,
They want us to make?
Disbelieve true good,
That’s the lie to take!
Take true good and,
Then disbelieve that ,
Make fake good it , and,
To faux heaven, take that!
Take the damn lies,
And self-deception,
That made earth hell,
To faux heaven’s reception?
As for me and my house,
And we ain’t what you would call much,
We believe in God’s good,
Come true heaven’s or true hell’s touch!
I can’t brag about it,
It’s just who I am,
I can’t much help it,
I give God the blame.
The pay has been somewhat,
Lousy in the carnal,
We’ll know more, surely,
In the eternal.
But Jesus was right,
The further you go down His road,
He makes light and bright,
Greater wisdom’s heavy, dark load!
No, God’s ever-present,
Presence and high indwelling,
Isn’t all kicks and giggles,
Ax to roots and trees felling!
And just when you think,
This, I can no longer take!
Some parts of heaven,
Come quick! Like a birthday cake.
Then, again,
Back to the grind!
Can’t give up,
More God to find!
Then make a simple poem,
Pedantic, seemingly inane,
Simple enough to grasp,
Some ethereal, most-high gain!
This, again,
Is what happens In That Day,
Critics be danged!
What do they know anyway?
Eagle Feathers and Ground Huggers
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/19/10
C omes now: eagles and feathers,
O’er fixated ground huggers,
The twain introduced In That Day!
Strong warnings have been made,
Great ground has been laid,
But ignored by the myopic, hypnotic parade!
So, is religion knight errantry?
Or unmentionable chicanery?
Most of it: an unspoken charade?
Clock is now ticking,
Cease all bickering!
The picture’s been made!
Intelligence is rising,
No more compromising,
Truth shall kill or remake!
In That Day is fully explained,
Exposing lies normally maintained,
God shall again over our hearts reign!
Weep, wail and howl,
Take the sock on the jowl,
In That Day ameliorates the fowl!
Like a thousand-piece puzzle,
The bark fits the muzzle,
All reconciles In That Day.
Who would have thought?
A new thing has been brought!
Ancient paths restored, hurray!
Ascend, sovereign souls!
Or default sovereign ghouls!
That’s it, what it is: In That Day!
Blind Preachers Yawn, Seraphim Shout
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/18/10
W hat if God wanted change,
But his broadcasters feared it?
What if God wanted change,
And His shepherds wouldn’t hear it?
But God’s truth and change,
Would still come anyway!
That truth and that change,
Would be spoken, yea!
First, God speaks truth and change,
In a prophet’s mouth,
Inevitably it must,
Thru God, come about!
Has not this happened,
With In That Day Teachings website?
Great truths first spoken,
All as a prayer God times right!
The fervent prayer of a righteous man,
Availeth much,
Perhaps: all these poems of In That Day ,
Availeth much!
We must fear our God,
Who is still alive!
And His alive: will,
That still can fight!
Shall we mock this work?
Not wise: In That Day,
Or shall we honor it?
Well, hurray! Hurray!
Be wise, be cautioned, be aware,
With each In That Day poem that goes out,
Heaven’s power might be unleashed!
Blind preachers yawn, but seraphim shout!
The Saga of Four Long-Haul-Truck Preachers
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/17/10
O nce four great Trucker-Preachers died,
And went to heaven’s gates,
Each to tell their long-haul story,
And prove their godly fates!
Each was the best of their preaching style,
No one better at what each did!
On Interstate 666 Truck Stop,
Where truckers ate and fueled up big!
The Prosperity Preacher said,
Well, I got the titles to one-billion trucks!
After hearing me preach real good,
Drivers gave me all, to wait for God’s best bucks!
They ended up on nearby Prosper Peak,
So high on my preaching, don’t you know!
Most of them: homeless, the others died off,
Jumping into Prosper Trench, which is low!
The Rapture Preacher then spoke up,
I got one-billion to park their trucks!
After hearing me preach so well,
That’s how good I was! I say: gosh-shucks!
Drivers went to nearby,
Wait-in-the-Fog-Bog Park,
But Jesus never came!
Still: Admire my art!
The Slouch Preacher said,
It’s my turn!
Here’s the big rewards,
I did earn!
I preached: Eternal Security,
And: God-loves-you-no-matter-what!
I disabled one-billion,
Otherwise perfectly useful trucks!
Drivers ended up in homeless tent-shelters,
At nearby Worship Weakness Lake,
They sang such wispy, self-debilitating,
Nonsense: unaware of mistake!
The Indwelling Preacher then spoke,
He said, What can I say?
I didn’t accomplish much: it,
Being late In That Day!
I cleaned truckers’ headlights and windshields,
And taught them: to watch out for those preachers three!
Who will suck the soul out of your own life,
And will brazenly tell you: that’s how to be!
I filled their truck tires with air,
For drivers to be safe!
That they make their destination,
And never be too late!
I filled their tanks and bellies,
With fuel and hearty, wholesome food!
And congratulated them all,
On doing a tough job: quite good!
I took them down the Truckee River,
Baptized them and taught them to fish!
And helped them rest on the peaceful banks,
That’s how I felt: Jesus in me wished!
In general, I tried to creatively,
Clean up their act!
Such that when they left, well, Jesus,
In next seat sat!
That’s all I did,
With all that were then willing!
But woe is me,
I only helped: one-million!
Not a billion or three,
Like these other famous preacher archetype-kind!
Send me back to earth now!
Who’ll help the lost of earth: poor-taught and left behind?
Saint Peter said, You left one-million behind,
That will do!
Come in and pray! And they will undo three-billion,
Misconstrued!
So, have the faith of a diesel motor,
Purring at idle or roaring full throttle!
For God has allowed these church deceptions,
Indwelling shall prove itself: best model!
For lie-fed, blinded souls everywhere are sold,
Disabled or parked!
While just a few full-indwelt of God are now,
Earth to heaven arched!
Beware, then, preaching and teaching,
Of those global broadcasts by satellite,
Oft they’re blind deceivers reaching,
For much that’s wrong and little right!
For a complete-occupied man of indwelling,
Is great to behold, if you can!
Full apologists for prosper, rapture or slouch,
Are oft useless to God and man!
You see, reducing to absurdity,
Finds the clarity,
It’s Western Enlightenment’s,
Path of verity.
Maxed-out prosper, rapture, slouch preacher,
Sold out souls,
Can no longer be indwelt of God, they’ve,
Reversed roles.
Such Christ promoters,
End up in transposed heist,
Antipode indwelt,
Christ not, but antichrist.
This can’t be true? Too shocking,
And too hard! this profound revelation?
Look then, at each preacher type!
Only the indwelt one: brings God’s nation!
It’s simple, yet quite hard,
Now: In That Day,
Is Jesus full-indwelt?
That’s the best way!
What’s Unguessed Shall Remain?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/11/10
S hall problems with broadcast Christianity,
Remain unguessed, unspoken,
Or shall chastisement and rebuke be received,
Intelligence up, awoken!
Nay, it’s too recondite,
These In That Day Teachings,
Too orthodox and wise,
Ruinous, runic, orphic reachings!
Shall all fields of endeavor,
Greatly rise In That Day,
Except rigid religion,
Stuck in ossified way?
Nay, unspoken fear from rapture doxie,
Unspoken greed from prosper moxie,
And unspoken slouch from weakness foxy,
Shall be the broadcast god of proxy!
How unspoken, how unguessed,
Are these kings with no clothes?
How long sheep not to know,
Wolf and shepherd swapped roles?
Hush that cogency!
Close your wide angle view!
Big guns we’ll now use,
Prophet: We say, Not you!
Though you can buy four-hundred,
To agree with all unguessed,
You cannot buy lies and stay,
What you want, to be: God blessed.
1/12/2010
Hamster-Pipe Preaching
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/12/10
O h, congregation,
Please! Let me now repent!
A nightmare I had,
In a dream I was sent!
I was in a large, clear, acrylic, hamster-pipe: preaching!
Walking as I do left to right,
A veritable pendulum of Neuro-Linguistic hypnotism,
Creating in your minds: great blight!
Hamster-pipe hidden shenanigans,
Walking, talking, motioning in cadence to and fro!
Talking straw man rapture villains,
Wiles times wiles of mystic tyranny, don’t you know!
Like a weak-glued pencil,
The point always breaks,
Only those outside church,
See my feigns and fakes!
A playwright or a director,
Or a person of reasonable firmness,
Would see your brain: I hector,
The point being: I remove souls’ sureness!
And then: don’t touch God’s anointed!
But God’s anointed don’t use witchcraft shenanigans!
Amen? Agree? Clap hands? Give in?
Western Enlightened see thru me! I stop all bragging!
I’ve been a hamster-pipe preacher!
Stuck in a very stupefying, narrow vein!
Trying to make minds: more narrow,
Calling my mind-raping squirrel cage: born again!
God, in my dream, showed me,
How beautiful a mind can be!
Free and creative! Loving!
Not bound up: worshipping dumb me!
In my dream God cut a hole,
In my fear, greed, slouch pipe!
I had to repent to you,
That step out: free, I might!
Now, Fuzzy Wuzzee, my hamster,
That was my dream within a dream!
I’d NEVER repent to my church!
No, NEVER! Know what I mean?
Fuzzy Wuzzee, you say to me,
Surely, you can’t be serious,
And I, your master grandee,
Say, you’re gonna love this!
DON’T CALL ME SHIRLEY!
Tee hee! Hee hee! Ho ho! Fuzzy, I love you!
I’m cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!
I’m having fun! And my sheep! Aren’t you?
1/11/2010
The Funeral After Axiom Crashed
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/11/10
D early beloved, I wish it could be other,
Other: than this time In That Day ,
The Axiom crashed in Death Valley,
‘twould seem all of us lost our way!
Four friends killed, is this what God willed?
Or are they now saints in heaven today?
It was a teaching of theirs, God works in pairs,
One in heaven, other on earth In That Day.
If so, now four teams above, in God’s love,
Are ready for us to choose!
Four teams on earth, fighting for true worth,
Have nothing really to lose!
We can choose prosperity’s greed, rapture’s fear-need,
Or seeker friendly’s slouchy way,
Or choose Western Enlightenment, without affright -ment,
Not a bad choice for In That Day!
Like the Disney movie Bolt , it gives us a jolt,
Energized like a superhero Rhino in full charge,
Little can be much, when God makes it such,
Saints and God above can make you quite large!
Pastor Rick Sublime’s faith was small, that is all,
He did what he was programmed to do,
Rapture is fear-needy, prosper is at the end: greedy,
Seeker-friendly slouchy: all Devil imbued!
He got sentenced to life, we: his fruit’s strife,
Children, friends: what is best?
Forgive sublime sin, now with God begin,
This: In That Day’s quest!
Quest for truth’s deep love, and what goes on high above,
Quest for the best In That Day!
It’s what they would want, from their wise, heavenly vaunt,
Let’s pledge Enlightenment’s way!
We pledge mutual dedication, to mutual restraint’s relation,
It is liberty, we are finally free!
We pledge to worship God in spirit and truth, to forsooth,
All God can’t imbue in you or me!
No fixed rules, God’s guidelines: refined,
Common sense and uncommon good guides the way,
Sorry to offend, but this sermon must end!
Quickened now with God we go: In That Day!
This is our faith, to not be knave,
To not let the best who’ve lived: die in vain!
We pledge life, love and honor, to God garner,
To finish the great tasks of good which remain!
From Death Valley life sparks, great leaps and arks,
Only God knows why: such pain!
But we’ll get over it, or somehow thru it,
Pride gone, life comes again!
Will you choose to be better, a good getter,
Get off that easy path?
A better way shown, is now known,
Only right choices last!
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
The same fate awaits us all,
Do what we must, egos bust,
In That Day, against the wall!
Who’ll be the next hero? The next Quasimodo!
Who will go?
As for me and my house, we are not a mouse,
We will grow!
Oh God, bless us, give us Your nexus!
Imbue us, indwell us somehow! We vow:
True doctrine and spirit: ever near it,
We expect great works with You in us now!
The Crashing of the Crashed
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/10/10
S tar date: Whenever,
I really don’t know,
I’m Pastor Rick Sublime,
Shaken up: quite so!
We have crashed,
I now make this video,
Myself and four,
Have survived this show.
Near-star traveling, we were,
With five hundred souls aboard,
To Alpha Centauri,
Four light years from old earth.
We were all hibernating, asleep,
I alone woke up!
Crashed on a cold planet unknown,
I sup a cruel cup!
Me, a special pastor,
Of known broadcast Christianity,
My new planet duty,
Replicate for habitat humanity!
Replicate prosperity’s greed,
Replicate rapture’s fear,
Replicate seeker friendly’s,
Slouch-thinking gear.
Replicate all that,
To four hundred ninety-five,
You see, there were four,
That were opposed to my jive.
Two pastor couples,
Who had been through a lot,
In That Day Teachings,
Full up they had bought.
Something about Western Enlightenment,
Self-examination and critical thought,
I knew I would have a long fight with them!
Indwelling of Christ now: what a crock!
Hell, they had lost ninety-eight million!
Just to be crazy!
They said that I represented,
All that was lazy.
And don’t you know,
That’s who lived!
Those four dummkopfs,
That’s what I get!
I’m in the space wreckage,
Looking at their monitors of hibernation,
Four life signs still quite good,
Unaware I, alone, decide if they awaken!
Hey, I can survive the next dozen years,
Until I am found!
But two point four years on our food supplies,
If the four come ‘round!
Hell, let’s let,
In That Day Teachings sleep!
Yes, that’s good!
The four: their God shall meet!
Slowly, I turn the hyber dials down!
Two pastors, dead!
Now, their loyal, misguided mates!
Two spouses, dead!
Now that’s the stuff,
Adventurous, real men are made of!
No competition!
Against the doctrines broadcasters love!
I now climb this cold desert mountain,
To survey my victory scene,
But behold! I see a road with a sign!
What does it mean?
Down the mountain to sign: I scramble,
Shirt full soaked with sweat as I go,
It’s In That Day’s victory preamble,
Ninety-five miles, it says, to Reno.
That’s the last place,
A coward like me wants to go,
Better Alpha Centauri,
Than to self-correct, you know!
I thought I had,
The perfect plan!
No correction,
By any man!
This is the saga,
Of uncorrectable Christian humans,
In a new age,
When correction they fear: begins!
It’s correction to,
Anti-Enlightenment thinking,
Irrational sects,
Fear, greed and slouch drinking.
Intelligence is rising!
Mystic tyrant televangelists are being: left behind,
That’s why a poet in Reno,
Is writing to improve the Christian heart and mind.
In That Day Teachings,
Are no joke,
In them you’ll find truth,
And hope!
Then, when to Alpha Centauri,
And beyond: man goes,
Fear greed and slouch stay home,
But God’s river flows!
God’s river of wisdom and good,
Must flow strongly in erudite man,
Wise in Bible and Enlightenment,
Thus with the universe: stand.
The solution to tomorrow,
Is mature indwelling in God!
Only corrupt broadcasting,
Preachers think that’s odd!
It’s not odd,
It is: In That Day,
God in man,
Man indwelt: God’s way!
SHSHSH! The Whisper Meeting!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/10/10
S HSHSH! I whisper!
At the start of this: Whisper Meeting!
I talk low and scared!
But knowing: you I’m misleading!
Our Whisper Meeting,
Is for the elect!
Those who really know,
What is God’s best bet!
Come forth, two preacher couples!
Stand in front of this room,
What they have just been through,
Will fill you with gloom!
First, they lost eighteen million,
What a tribulation!
Then, thirty million,
More tribulation!
Then, another fifty million!
More tribulation even yet!
Finally, conned by a hunchback,
One-eyed, rat man: false prophet!
That’s real pre-trib tribulation!
Sit down! We’re through with you!
Let me whisper this as an example,
To avoid, after our theological ruse!
Who needs to learn from such examples?
Let us, yes, RAPTURE you!
Our god, our king, our everything,
KING RAPTURE fills, yes: fills you!
What’s this? You dare,
Interrupt this Whisper Meeting?
Quasimodo?
Saved you and filled you with meaning?
MEANING WHAT?
I yell,
IF NOT THE RAPTURE,
GO TO HELL!
Ah, ah hum: I’m back!
I’m back to proud, low, controlling-all-quiet whisper,
Ushers: Remove those,
Four mis – cre - ants! They spilt my magic elixir!
That’s better! Yes much!
I love the sound of uncomfortable laughter,
Snatching souls quiet,
In RAPTURE, that’s what I’m after!
While whisperin’ about antichrist,
All the day!
That is who is inside me, alive!
What can I say?
Antipodal ministry: EVERYWHERE!
In That Day, yes In That Day,
Except that Quasimodo, God-indwelt,
Lock him, and his kind, away!
Those two preacher couples,
Are ruined! I can’t: use ‘em!
Gone thru tribulation,
I preach to avoid: SCREW ‘EM!
They’re going to probably study,
And be Western Enlightened,
With centuries of true progress,
Of folk like them: be frightened!
The only true revelation is Christ,
Dead, and we keep dead, two-thousand years ago!
To hell with Him indwelling the humble…
(Indwelling of God now? Now? Now?)
(Behold, I, Christ, come quickly indwelt in man?)
(Honor such indwelt-of-God, now? Now? Now?)
(Learn In That Day Teachings? Now? Now?)
(Learn the restoration of all things? Now? Now?)
(Do something besides whisper fear into morons?)
…Like Herod of old, we say to that: HELL NO!
Or, ah hum, let me get back,
To my whisper-control-you whispered voice,
(Our mystic tyranny horse,)
In truth: HELL, YES! Is our true whispered choice.
In truth, Rapture doxie,
Is a lie from the pit of hell,
Unorthodox, made up, morbid, fearful,
Who needs Christ? With that: we do well!
Creation and Creator: In or Out of Box!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/09/10
A s Copernicus put the Earth in orbit,
To go around the sun,
So In That Day Teachings,
Put God in: indwelt man!
God is in heaven, yes,
But His desire is to live in man!
Low preachers can’t do this,
So they and their sheep don’t understand!
But saints, of course, have always done this,
And now many must In That Day!
Multitudes would join in: in high Him!
If leaders weren’t blocking the way!
More intelligence, more enlightenment,
More wisdom, more harmony of soul!
Versus more denseness to shenanigans,
More blindness to tricksterism’s role!
That’s what In That Day is about,
God in uplifted man!
That’s why preachers are so shocked,
In antipodal sham!
These In That Day Teachings,
Aren’t unique to a certain man,
They’re independent known,
Confirmable to each human!
Try them, and you’ll see!
Ancient wisdom over hucksterism: is how to be!
To be God-indwelt,
Right doctrine, right spirit: makes you, well, free!
In That Day Teachings,
A Rosetta stone of incomparable worth?
Or just a good way God,
Can get inside humans for some mirth!
Yes, we must not take ourselves too serious,
That would be a mistake,
Nevertheless, take note of these teachings,
God-bearing, they’ll make!
Note the creativity!
It has grown and grown!
How the teachings,
Have sown and sown!
Is this not a witness of Bible and God indwelling,
And a confirmation of Western Enlightenment?
Preachers, ask why harmonious confirmation?
In the work! But in your soul: affright-ment!
The scope is broad, the reach: far,
The witness in scripture, saints of old and your spirit!
The promptings: upward, onward,
To return of strength and courage! Can you hear it?
This is In That Day!
When wisdom increases and God-indwelling is known!
Also a bad time,
When covers on the prideful and blind are blown.
But who would, or could, give credit,
To an unrecognized man in Reno?
No matter what great work he does,
Chuck it! What does he know?
Is it wise to judge against,
Such a large body of confirming work?
Many have prayed for light!
Light has a way of bothering the dark!
We’re shocked! We’re shocked! We’re shocked! We’re shocked!
To be out-wisdomed, out-orthodoxed!
Say stunned preachers who dumbed down sheep,
Putting creation and God: in box!
Cry Sanctuary! Cry Sanctuary! Cry Sanctuary!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/08/10
[Introduction “ movie-scrolls” on embellished Renaissance parchment.]
W ith the beginning of the 21st Century, the general well-being and well-wishing of man came to a close. The world began to see great changes. America, ravaged by a hundred years of hidden progressivism, at last found itself in virtual mental slavery. It was hidden slavery born of a hidden desire of man, namely to be a lazy god and not serve the rigorous One. Nevertheless the people under broadcast Christianity still felt free to hope, to dream of true progress. But superstition and prejudice against truth, which is ancient mystic tyranny, stood in the way: seeking to crush the adventurous spirit of man.
O ur story begins, or rather continues, on a horrible night in a horrible lower room of a horrible dungeon…
I am going to strike a match,
And light a torch, but don’t be frightened!
I know: four are in this room!
Plus me! And rats! That’s us: the smitten’d!
That’s a joke, like my face,
I’m [match lights] Quasimodo!
Though you scream, I can’t hear,
I come from deaf Judge Soto.
He sentenced me to fifty lashes,
And an hour mocked on the pillory!
You’re next on docket! What is your crime?
Bouncing checks? Ninety-eight million: free?
You are those rich pastors and wives,
Broadcasting globally!
You coning fakers! Shamans!
Broke’r than e’en me!
Don’t cry, you people,
Are you upset with my one-eyed face?
No, it’s your requite!
And recompense: from which you cannot race!
Judge Soto will sentence you,
To a fate worse than mine!
The rack? The guillotine?
No! Here’s a plan: Divine!
After I am whipped and pilloried,
For loving Esmeralda! You’ll be next,
I’ll break out! I’ll grab two of you in each arm,
And head to where you cannot be vexed!
To Notre Dame, to Notre Dame, to Notre Dame!
Cry! Cry! Cry sanctuary!
Oh ring the bells! Oh ring the bells! Oh ring the bells!
Cry! Cry! Cry sanctuary!
I, Quasimodo, I will forgive you!
God will forgive you! Then, the world too!
Cry sanctuary! Cry sanctuary!
And God’s ring of truth might ring in you!
Now it doesn’t, and can’t and won’t,
Ring, no! Truth cannot ring in you!
Until you humble yourselves,
Weep! Wail! Howl! And begin anew!
Cry sanctuary! Cry sanctuary!
God have mercy on us!
We empowered the gospel,
To only us: bless!
From Notre Dame’s high bell towers,
Look down on the little world,
With compassion! not avarice!
God can keep you in a whirl!
Be humble, sacrifice yourself,
Be enlightened to a greater thing!
The day will come when we are free,
And liberty, not licentiousness, you’ll ring!
Weep now! Howl now! Wail! And In That Day,
Be spirit renewed!
Cry sanctuary! Be ye sanctuary!
Be God-imbued!
That’s what happens In That Day,
You wouldn’t believe it unless this you went thru!
As the great prophet John says,
Behold, I come quickly: That’s Jesus come in you!
He’s been coming in broken-hearts like me,
Old Quasimodo,
Stop the ego, get humble and honor,
God in other fellow!
From your high perch in broadcasting,
You’ve besmirched God imbued!
As you bounced throughout creation,
Not knowing how God is used!
You’ve used your position,
To candle-snuff God coming out!
So busy you were with self,
Ministries: bragging whatnot.
Since Christ ascended,
He has imbued our fellow man!
Now it is In That Day,
Time to increase that plan!
Weep now. Howl now. Wail, and In That Day,
Be spirit renewed,
Cry sanctuary! Be ye sanctuary!
Be God-imbued!
Weep now. Howl now. Wail, and In That Day,
Be spirit renewed,
Cry sanctuary! Be ye sanctuary!
Be God-imbued!
Withering Expectations at Camp Babyland
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/08/10
H i boys and girls!
Welcome to our weekend camp!
Men, women: you,
Couples on retreat: we stamp!
We stamp everything,
Juvenile, puerile and baby!
And you thought we might,
Fix your problems, maybe?
We’ve got one word,
And one word will do!
EXPECTATIONS!
That’s one word most true!
Now, I know two couples are here,
Because they have lost: forty-eight million!
They’ll buy my book: Expectations,
And I’ll sign four copies: for fifty million!
Thank you, Mister and Missus Pastors,
I’ll mail you a receipt,
Fifty million for: Expectations!
The others: I beat! Sweet!
Settle down, boys and girls!
Library voices, don’t fight!
My condescending v - o - i - c - e,
Makes everything right!
Expectations is the mantra,
Of infantile, rip-off ministry,
Don’t talk back, you little ones,
We’re milk-masters, you’re just teething!
There now, there now, there now,
Ex – pec – ta – ti – ons!
Don’t think how this rot has,
En – sla – ved na – ti – ons!
Expectations, expectations, expectations,
How mild is the word!
We’ll rip anyone’s throat out who exposes us,
At Camp Babyworld.
The world has big problems requiring,
Great strength and greater courage,
Pay us enough, we’ll keep Christ puerile,
So babies, don’t be discouraged!
Don’t worry about a thing,
Just pay us plenty, and keep us in charge,
Suck on our li’l baby ring,
We’ll keep ministry immaturity: large!
That’s All
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/08/10
I ’m a private eye detective, see?
Of the broadcast Christian woirld , see?
And ‘dis is what happened to a stiff like me!
‘Dese two trophy dames were in my shack!
From dollar-menu lunch, I wuz coming back,
My name’s Eli Jaw, but ‘dey called me: Mack.
Mack, we want our money retoirned ,
Our fool preacher husbands got boirned ,
They gave eighteen million to a consultant who toirned!
Yes, ‘dey live on ‘dat Skewfaith Island,
‘Dis consultant played ‘dem spouses like a violin!
I said my name’s Eli Jaw, I’ll help, but: no violence!
You see, what ‘dat brilliant consultant, he did,
Was try to get ‘dose husband preachers’ egos rid,
He wrote their names in the sky, but who’s he gonna kid?
I says, Missus Preachers don’t you worry!
Give me fifteen million in a hurry!
I’ll fix it like a rigged jury!
They hands me five million,
I says, WEAP!
Another five million,
I says, WAIL!
The last five million,
I says, HOWL!
They ask me, is that all?
I says, that’s all!
They say, That’s all?
THAT’S ALL!
In ten days I hears a knock on my door,
It’s two men, ‘dose husbands, me coming for,
I’d been thinking, and I knew: I knew what was in store!
Come in gentlemen, I says, don’t be mad,
Have a seat, I’m Eli Jaw. Know me. I’m not bad!
I asks , who’s been had? Yes, gentlemen, who’s been had?
Your wives? ‘Dat broadcast consultant?
Or your immersed audience: goin’ more mutant?
Or you, you’selves, with ego and pride ‘dat: only you see can’t?
I says, Mister Preachers don’t you worry!
Give me fifteen million in a hurry!
I’ll fix it like a rigged jury!
They hands me five million,
I says, WEAP!
Another five million,
I says, WAIL!
The last five million,
I says, HOWL!
They ask me, is that all?
I says, that’s all!
They say, That’s all?
THAT’S ALL!
They left. And on my desk: goes my feet!
I smoke a cigar, hey it’s my treat!
Tonight, steak for meat!
You think I’m a private investigator cruel?
Me: a lump of coal, not a jewel?
Who is, or ain’t bein’ a fool?
Maybe I says I can, or you says you can, see,
Just what the lay of the land: it might be,
But broadcast church ain’t free!
If I could speak to five million,
I’d say, WEAP!
Another five million,
I’d say, WAIL!
The last five million,
I’d say, HOWL!
If they asked me, is that all?
Then I would say, that’s all!
They’d say, That’s all?
THAT’S ALL!
Out the Window!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/07/10
D efenestrate enlightenment!
That’s what we broadcast preachers do!
Don’t tell us we pendulum walk,
How else to hypnotize you?
We chuck self-examination,
Out the window!
We love our wiles of blindness,
And web we throw!
We’re full of wiles, gambits and beguiling,
Mind-moves clever,
To defenestrate the seeing, classic-taught!
We’ll hear them: NEVER!
But damn that pesky internet!
And damn the rise in intelligence!
Our pricey broadcast consultants,
Must create more wiles for the dense!
Defenestration shall win the day,
Our devolution complete!
On judgment day, Christ shall rise,
And give us His right seat!
His throne at the right hand of Father,
Belongs to us!
We threw out Western Enlightenment,
Under the bus!
Hurray for ignorance!
And the ignorant-taught!
Hurray for rigid stance!
And lies we sold and bought!
And hurray for seeker-friendly,
Truth avoidance!
It is Satan’s last chance request,
To with him dance!
Oh how we speak down,
To the dastardly seeing crowd,
We shall always win!
Defenestration, we laud!
There’s no salvation in reason!
None in Western Enlightenment’s precepts and lines!
Defenestrators are saviors!
We, indwelt with our father’s lies, we save mankind!
Who is of the bible we preach?
And who is not?
Out the window with your mind,
That’s what we got!
We’d rather give you jive,
And sign our souls to Satan with our blood’s red ink,
Than have you enlightened,
And enabled such that with God you be and think!
It’s why we repeat tired mantras,
As if they were always fresh and new,
It’s to dull you and join the evil,
That’s in us with what’s in you!
It’s great and insidious myopia,
It’s to dumb-down and nullify good,
Just be entertained stupid unto deafness,
With scripture to cover sight with hood!
It’s the Valley of Decision,
Believe only what we know!
Or be prepared, classic seers,
To be vilified so!
We were born for this,
It is our job!
What we’re saying is,
We are God!
Deceived Preachers, Look at Yourselves!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/06/10
O h, deceived preachers,
Look! Look! Look at yourselves!
You cannot even see,
How demons manifest!
Your demons manifest in your,
Video showing,
And yet: three groups detect this!
While you’re not knowing!
First, speech and communication specialists,
Understand that you act strangely,
Second, mature martial artists can too,
And third, the movie industry family.
Why? They see, see, see!
Who can’t?
Dumbed-down sheep, sheep, sheep!
They can’t!
Why? Your doctrines of fear,
Greed, slouch and seeker-friendly,
Excuse all indwelt demons,
Making your video religion: unseemly!
Thus, the bound, shill deliverance,
The panicked, shill calm,
The greedy, shill penury,
The fearful, the bomb!
The bomb of rapture,
Is a holocaust of fear!
Ruining caught souls,
Whom God can’t indwell near.
The sin of weakness,
Provokes every foul demon to act,
It’s today’s worst plague,
Seeker-friendly gives truth the ax!
For down is up and with fear,
Greed and seeker-slouch: up is down!
Professionals see through faux!
While in lies, poor-taught sheep drown!
The poor sheep think that literate,
Western Enlightened eyes: are crazy!
Professionals and the enlightened,
Know the sheep’s shepherds: are lazy!
The shepherds are lazy, weak scoundrels,
But will not admit it!
They don’t believe In That Day, truth wins!
But it will. So, try it!
In That Day the accomplished,
Shall accomplish much!
Until then unbeknownst fools,
Shall act: precisely such!
Somebody Tell the Truth!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/06/10
S omebody tell the truth!
You think there’s no cost: to be lost?
Rapture ain’t fear? nor,
Prosper: greed? nor slouch doxie: Faust?
Faustian deals all,
Wretchedly blinding and more!
Seeker friendly,
Truth avoidance: a whore!
Making what? Ask yourselves,
Strong enough to see,
Illiberal PC’ers,
Enslaving ye!
Enslaving the planet,
In cruel, hidden shackles!
In That Day you’ll see,
If truth: you can tackle!
Truth avoidance shenanigans,
Inculcate fear,
To hate, then to attack,
Demons: here!
Somebody tell the truth!
Faux church has no cost?
Seers will still see!
All else will be lost!
Man up: lost shepherds!
Pick up your balls,
Left with Jezebel,
Destiny calls!
Shilling the Antipode! (A Seminar)
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/06/10
H i everybody! Welcome to the seminar!
‘Scuse me while I scream: E-E-E-E-EEK!
Oh, um, you’ll have to get used to my screaming,
I’ve been up all week!
I drink coffee, coffee, coffee, COF-FE-E-E-EE!
Twenty cups a day!
While writing my tenth book on: CALMNESS!
What do you say?
Sure, chuckle! And again folks,
Welcome to the seminar: E-E-E-E-EEK! What’s that?
Oh, nothing, the coffee! Now,
Our seminar: Shill the Antipode! How ‘bout that!
E-E-E-E-EEK! Don’t touch me!
Oh, it’s just you! Never mind!
Seminar attendees for: Antipode Shilling,
Great calm like mine, you’ll find!
Now, you’ll keep, E-E-E-E-EEK!
Did I panic? Never mind,
You’ll keep your faults, but sell,
Solutions to ‘em: DIVINE!
See, I’m a Christian, E-E-E-E-EEK!
Oh, I scared myself!
And you have problems to sell by formula,
Off seminar shelf!
Rape! Rape! CALL NINE-ONE-ONE!
Oh, it’s just my mind rebelling!
You can be lazy, abused, fearful or greedy,
And sell it! Cracked bell ringing!
Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, OH-MY-GAW-AW-AAWD!
I’m having an orgasm! AN OR-GAZ-I-I-I-I-I-I-ISM!
No, um, I’m not. We’re mature. We’re mature here,
Sell weakness uncured! Our fey tricksterism!
Won’t they know in church,
We are full of kitty litter crap?
I’m TOTALLY calm, relaxed,
Now, who’d ever preach about that?
1/06/2010
The Best There Is
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/06/10
I flew in to Skewfaith Island,
A city of ten million,
I rented a hybrid econo-box,
To get my image spinnin’!
I’m a consultant to broadcast pastors,
The best there is,
I’m the best helper to our folks of cloth!
Here’s what I did.
To big megillah minister Little Less,
I said, I’ll make you most: for a million!
He said, I like the cut of your cut-out jeans,
Here’s a million dollars, I’m willing!
So I hired a sky-writing plane and pilot,
To write Little Less is More at day,
Then I went to big megillah minister,
Gimme More and asked, what do you say?
He was mad at Little Less,
And message in the sky,
I said, for two million,
Here is what you can buy.
I’ll write Gimme More is Better,
In the sky,
That’s what two million from your sheep,
Will buy!
Of course, he went for it,
They always do,
Then I went back to one,
Upset with two.
Little Less said, look what evil,
Has befallen me!
Gimme More is Better, I see,
This is treachery!
I said, in the night sky I could shine,
A powerful, but expensive light!
It would say, Little Less is the Best,
For five million. And he said, alright.
Back to Gimme More I went,
Designer cut jeans and hybrid working good,
He said, what will it now cost?
Ten million will get night sky to look as should!
He agreed and at night a second light,
Now says Gimme More is Better than Best,
So, eighteen million isn’t bad to gross,
Mystic tyranny wears insecure vest!
So I help them,
Feel, of themselves , better,
Mom always said,
I’m a real go-getter!
What it costs the sheep donors,
I’ll never know, (I grin!)
But there is no known limit,
How egos grow! (I win!)
As long as mystic tyranny,
And shenanigans rule broadcast church,
I’ll be flush with winnings,
Selling balm to pride that can’t be hurt!
They buy pride,
I sell it,
Are we blind?
SHSH! I sell it!
That’s what I really sell,
That’s what they want,
Mystic tyranny,
Unseen to flaunt.
The Three Prequel Commandments
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/05/10
W hat’s wrong with church broadcast?
I asked God one night,
I awoke next morning,
Sweating and cold in fright!
Three Prequel Commandments,
Are ruining My Ten,
It’s Mystic Tyranny,
Which has gotten in.
Thus My LORD spoke to me,
And I wrote it down,
The Three Prequel Commandments,
In That Day: not sound.
Thou shalt use Mystic Tyranny,
To preach, promote and protect the gospel,
Is their Prequel Commandment One,
Used by every church and man not well.
Thou shalt believe Mystic Tyranny’s,
Doctrines to further God’s gospel,
Is their Prequel Commandment Two,
Used by every religion fell.
Thou shalt honor Mystic Tyranny,
Indwelt in man and woman and child,
In order to dishonor God indwelt in same,
Last prequel commandment compiled.
That’s why My people hate correction,
That’s why they love their prophets of Baal,
Though you’re one against four hundred,
Tell My Church to break prequels from hell.
I told the church for five years,
On an In That Day website,
People didn’t understand,
How that In That Day is right.
Weep, wail and howl,
For all that has been lost!
These bad prequels,
Must be smashed at all cost!
Mystic Tyranny is such a jealous god,
Enslaving many a man,
Yet whom the son sets free is free indeed,
Be free in God! You can!
On Trial: The Mined and Blind
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/03/10
I ’m judge of Broadcast County,
Let’s make it quick,
Who is on the next docket?
Let’s make it stick!
I’m a hanging judge,
But this is too much!
Millions of accused?
They’re accused of what?
The sheep rebelled,
Your Honor: Judge Rightwrong,
Against their shepherds,
And they rebelled dang strong!
All right then, the Mined and Blind,
Trial is set,
We’ll hear arguments and be,
Hanging yet!
Lawyer for defense of the accused,
Leighter Lightark,
And prosecuting attorney,
Deiter Darkbark. Proceed!
Thank you, your Honor,
Prosecution calls Justin Amenfaith to bench,
His quite sad story,
Will make the bravest brave-heart blanch!
Justin Amenfaith,
Tell us: What is your job?
I preach faith only,
Amen? Yessiree, Bob!
I preach, amen? I preach faith, amen?
Only faith, amen? amen? amen? See,
Can I have a witness? Those bad sheep!
Well, amen? They ran out, amen? On me!
No further questions,
Lightark, your turn.
Justin Amenfaith,
What did you learn?
I learned, amen? You can, amen? fool, amen? some,
Of the people, amen? some, amen? of the, amen? time!
But, amen? not, amen? all of the Amen People!
All of the time! No further questions. Fine.
Judge, the prosecution calls Fradee Cat,
Proprietor of Our Fear’s Here Inn,
Fradee Cat, and his Missus preach the rapture,
Fradee Cat, your story: begin.
The Missus and I were preaching end-times,
With free-flowing spirits of fear!
When our own Mined and Blind Sheep just got up,
And told us: We’re out of here!
It was devastating for business,
Since then: a blight!
Me and the Missus have been crying,
In fright: each night!
No further questions.
Lightark, ask away next,
No questions, your Honor,
Our defense remains blessed!
The prosecution calls Skindeep Halfhealer,
To the witness stand,
Tell us of the Mined and Blind’s misbehavior,
Oh sir, if you can.
In back of my medicine wagon,
I was shilling my half-healing potion,
Which will cure any ailment: skin deep,
It’s my Heart-to-Head-to-Toe Lotion!
Normally, our Mined and Blind Sheep,
Are automatic: ecstatic and buying,
But this time they up’n left me!
With unsold, worthless lotion! No lying!
So I drank a case,
It made me sick!
Where’s the outhouse, judge?
I leave now quick!
Will the people stop laughing,
I need order in this room!
As judge I say we continue,
To verdict! And soon!
Your Honor, I call to the stand,
Reverend Besmirch Lincoln,
From the other side of town,
He’ll get us all thinkin’!
Huh! There I wuz preaching, Heh now!
Enslavin’, entrancin’, bewitchin’,
Huh! Huh! Huh! The B’Jezus out’a dem sheep,
Dem gibin’ to me, me all keepin’!
Y’all gimme’ dat witness!
Glorah, glorah, glorah how dem Mined and Blind,
Jess’ got up an’ leff’ me,
And mah enslavin’, witchen-craft: Bah-hind!
Next witness! Dr. Jabber Which,
You are a prophetic doctor, am I correct?
Yes, and I’ve examined the sheep,
And I don’t know what’s wrong with them yet.
Normally, the Mined and Blind Sheep ,
Are docile and easily conned,
And sheared by us: just-slightly-more-smart!
Now I don’t know what’s going on.
Next witness! I’m Fastess Broke Weakhand,
I preach weak worship and weak doxie,
Though frail myself, I’m Samson to weak,
Mined and Blind Sheep under my moxie!
I never thought I would live,
To see: In That Day,
Sheep weakened: by my hand,
Walked so strong! Away!
Next witness! Stopshort Of Intellect ,
Is my name,
Lording over sheep with my half-smarts,
Is my game.
I hypnotize them,
With dry bones intelligencia crap,
But en mass, they left,
Without saying a word. Just like that!
The prosecution now calls,
My Ning Mine,
The richest businessman,
You can find.
State your business,
My Ning Mine,
I sell you one t’ing,
Greed Divine!
I preach prosperity,
But it’s rea’ree and ar’ways: greed!
I mine give-to-get-now,
Sheep r’oose, but I get what I need!
It work’ee grand,
Unt’eer it stop working,
I am now sad pig,
No r’onger on sheep: porking!
Next witness! My name is Duegood Butseenot Mywiles,
I’m smiley, happy, grinning all the time!
I tell others they’ll get the goods by doing good!
But I get goods via wiles the sheep can’t find!
God help me if Mined and Blind Sheep,
Ever saw through my hypocrite’s ruse,
Come to think of it, when they left,
They said they saw how: them I abused!
Get the goods by doing good,
Get the best! I had told them,
Don’t beware the conman’s flare,
Like the rest: I had sold them!
Next witness! I’m Dapper Dan,
I’m a chameleon,
Dress up, dress down, or no clothes!
Anything for con!
But I’ve tried all ploys,
All colors of rainbow,
The sheep just walked out,
Who’d ‘a’ thunk: they know?
Next witness! I’m Who’s Foolin’ Who,
A shepherd’s consultant,
My ploys are so good sheep don’t,
Know where their money went!
But now my highest, greatest, radical,
Most evil, hidden schemes,
Don’t work on those smart aleck sheep!
They dare to crash: our dreams!
Prosecution now,
Concludes prosecuting this special case,
The sheep are guilty!
Failure to support their master race!
For the Mined and Blind Sheep,
Must support their slightly-smarter betters,
Who best to enslave them,
In unseen hucksterism fetters?
For even now the,
Mined and Blind Sheepherders Association,
Sharpens shears,
For wool, blades for lamb chops: their proration!
If God Himself,
Wanted any other ways,
His book would have,
Called it out. I rest my case!
The defense calls Maryboy Colt,
To the stand,
Half-breed Indian warrior,
Raise right hand.
Maryboy Colt,
You will tell the truth?
If I don’t,
Me, you can shoot.
We don’t shoot liars,
But tell us what you got,
You spoke to the sheep,
What you told them was: hot?
Hotter than sun,
Hotter than a million sun-fires!
Preachers, I said,
In Broadcast County are liars!
Full of tricks,
Full of lies, full of slavery: they,
Sheep need food!
Like Good Book says: In That Day!
Don’t hang me!
Don’t hang the sheep!
Weep, wail, howl,
No tricks repeat.
Mistrial! Mistrial!
I declare as judge,
Sheep, go free! And,
Preachers: don’t budge!
Learn from Maryboy,
And learn from In That Day,
Feed your starving sheep,
Or the hell you’ll pay!
As judge, I’ll haul,
You shepherds in court!
Hear me: last time,
All wile-craft abort!
Thus, this was the trial,
Of the Mined and Blind,
It makes great drama,
But do preachers mind?
Do preachers In That Day,
Of great awakening,
Want to rise up higher,
Or keep on taking?
Intelligence will rise,
In That Day,
Will broadcast preachers,
Be okay?
They now,
Are bent!
And can’t,
Repent!
They don’t believe,
In: In That Day,
They hearken not,
What Truth does say.
Which, of course, just is not smart!
Instead: they pay four-hundred,
False prophets to out-shout Truth,
And do what Jezebel said.
God chastises and rebukes,
Those whom God loves and gives,
Preachers won’t bow to truth now,
Choosing their god: Hubris!
And that just ain’t too smart!
‘Tis a sad, strange, haunting story,
On Trial: The Mined and Blind,
And preachers’ hands: blood-gory.
Who are Mined and Blind?
Are they the sheep today?
Or the broadcast shepherds,
Stuck in pride’s sightless way.
The Shepherds’ Millennium Choice
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 1/01/10
C hoose you this day,
Your axiom of choice,
Somnolent wile factory,
Or In That Day’s voice.
The time for shenanigans,
Is past,
So choose forever now what,
Will last!
Have In That Day Teachings,
Made you apoplectic?
Who, in time, you think will,
Be branded heretic?
Champions of fear, greed,
And slouch?
Or those for whom truth,
Did vouch?
Look how faith in prosper,
Rapture and security,
Have been enslavement tools,
Of empty shill surety.
Despite the billions wasted,
In Vaticanesque vanity,
World systems are corrupted,
And show corrupt insanity.
Broadcast, broadcast!
Away,
Crash broad, crash broad!
In That Day.
What’s your go-forward axiom?
Oh, intelligent man,
High on hubris, upper right bell curve!
Riddle me this Batman.
Can you humble yourself,
Lower to right?
Truly feed sheep In That Day,
Oh, what a fight!
Sure you can,
Once over your rage,
Weep, wail, howl!
Turn to God’s next page!
Fear, greed and slouch,
Are ancient mystic tyranny,
Truth is older,
Restoration sets us free.
Truth, for you, hurts,
Like a cruel shot,
Feed truth to sheep!
Not polyglot.
Not reasonless stream-of-conscious,
Shenanigans,
Wiles, layered on wiles, on top of wiles,
Beware: shamans!
The general population shall inevitably,
Rise in intelligence,
‘Fess up now, masters of smallness,
Fear ye recompense!
Shepherds of dead-horse-beating,
And hidden, mind-numbing charades,
Be first to repent and teach,
How worked your dumbed-downing parades.
Choose you this day,
Your axiom of choice,
Somnolent wile factory,
Or In That Day’s voice.
Twenty-Four Seven: Leaven!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/30/09
B roadcast, broadcast, broadcast, broadcast!
Pretty much the same,
Twenty-four hours: micro-Christ-max-ego,
Ugly: much a bane!
Christ was creative,
Tons of parables!
For high doctrine,
To be enabled!
Plus, higher teachings,
For the elect!
Eliminating all but,
The best yet.
Thus the Christ-imbued,
Would broadcast,
If those who are not,
Weren’t so fast.
Fast to repeat,
What shouldn’t be repeated,
Else poor sheep’s,
Defenses be defeated!
Which is the point!
Of much inane, endless broadcast,
To delay the day,
Christ comes imbued at last!
Yes, In That Day,
As Reno-taught,
Is Christ indwelt,
In that: be bought!
Heart-eyes full open In That Day,
With so much to say!
Ego-big-Christ-small: dry bones,
Have naught but fey.
So what comes in you, in me next?
In That Day’s indwelt Christ!
But what will broadcast, broadcast next?
Anything that will Christ: heist!
You see, true doctrine brings,
Jesus alive inside me and you,
Fear, greed and slouch doxie,
Prevents God being imbued.
So next year people will worship,
On the altars of fear, greed and slouch,
You can’t touch their false idols,
That’s why broadcast is out of touch.
Is it sad?
You bet!
Will it change?
Not yet.
Only when people hurt bad enough,
Will they change for better,
Epic tragedy is what it takes,
For souls to un-fetter.
You see,
People love rapture, prosperity and slouch doxie,
Their love,
For these idols keeps most strong in false moxie.
This is how it is,
In That Day,
Which today is,
We must pray.
Our Con-the-Mental Congress Votes!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/30/09
H ear ye, hear ye,
Bang! Goes my gavel,
Attendees stop,
Itch’n your n-n-n-navel!
I c-c-c-call,
This m-m-m-eeting to order!
I’m n-n-n-nervous,
Don’t heckle. I do what I sorter!
NUMBER ONE:
GREED STATE?
Present: Call me Mister Prosper .
NUMBER TWO:
FEAR STATE?
Present: The name’s Mister Rapture .
NUMBER THREE:
SLOUCH STATE?
SLOUCH STATE!
SLOUCH STATE!
Um, Ai’yeeh be cool: Day say I’m Weakness .
NUMBER FOUR:
BRAIN STATE?
Indubitably here: My title is Sir Intellect .
NUMBER FIVE:
JABBER-TRONIC STATE?
Logged in: Username Prophetic.
NUMBER SIX:
BLIND SHEEP STATE?
BLIND SHEEP STATE?
Oh, lead them to the table.
They can’t walk? Not able?
Wheelchairs then,
And bring them in!
BLIND SHEEP STATE?
What? Huh? Us? How?
BLIND SHEEP STATE?
Oh, here: Our name and nature are Dumbed-Down.
NUMBER SEVEN:
AWAKENED STATE?
Ready, sir: It’s In That Day.
A Quorum of Seven Tables having been reached,
This: Con-the-Mental Congress,
In Malodelphia’s Hidden Slavery Hall,
Shall debate without recess!
I, the Governor of the Cabal,
Shall now preside,
Over the independence vote,
All bona fide!
I object! Governor,
Said State Greed,
We con all monies and,
Got what we need!
I’m afraid, Governor,
I object, like State Greed , too,
Said Mister Rapture,
I’m so scared, I must find the loo!
Bang! Goes my gavel,
Stop laughing, settle down!
I’m Governor of this Cabal,
Comport yourselves sound!
Lemme’, Bro Weakness,
Speak for muh’ frien’s,
Where did dis’ start,
An’ where do dis’ ends?
W-w-w-well, as Governor,
I m-m-m-might have forgot,
T-t-t-to tell you all what,
This meeting’s about.
Since for ages you clever devils,
Have been conning each to the other with wiles,
God wants it official and writ,
Just where you stand regarding hubris piles.
You all hate: Orthodoxlandia ,
With its big truths and smaller quirks,
And you avoid: Lawlessmandia ,
In name if not glove-in-hand works!
We shall vote on this document here,
The Declaration of Bible Independence,
We shall allege ourselves to that,
Freed from constraint, and outlaw all fence!
Now, wait! Said Mister In That Day,
If all could awaken,
This ancient mystic tyranny,
None would be taking!
Always the same you say, Mister Day,
Said Mister Prophetic,
Twitter and Facebook out-vote you!
You are an heretic!
Now I, Sir Intellect,
Really must say something!
But I have forgot it,
So, am I a dumb thing?
We call the question!
Said Greed, Fear and Slouch,
And we’ll obey you!
The Blind Sheep did vouch!
A vote has been called!
The Governor said to Mister Day,
Have you anything more,
To this august body say?
Yes, Mister Governor,
Said In That Day,
Listen one and all,
To what I say.
Our Con-the-Mental Congress,
Runs from Orthodoxlandia’s curses,
Right into the hidden arms,
Of Lawlessmandia’s worst wishes!
Mister Prosper, Mister Rapture,
Your greed and fear states aren’t nice,
Mister Weakness, Sir Intellect,
From slouch to brain: your blood’s ice!
Mister Prophetic, who can fathom,
Your Jabber-tronic, ever-changing doxie?
And poor, lost Blind and Dumbed-Down Sheep ,
You amen everything! You lost your moxie!
You have all lost faith,
In God’s quick-now indwelling!
Honor that in each,
It was what John was thrice telling!
On the last page of Bible,
Behold, I come quickly!
Honor others who have that,
Christ inside! Not sickly.
So vote: YES, as you have,
For last one-hundred years,
Bible Independence,
For uncountable tears!
Or vote: NO, with faith,
Against the same old desolation,
Honor indwelling!
And heaven on earth you shall make!
In That Day,
Which this day is,
Be indwelt!
Or back old biz.
Then, we will vote: NO! in one accord,
To Bible Independence!
Said the Seven States of Thinking,
Bells now ring for indwelt drinking!
As Governor I disband forever,
This: Con-the-Mental Congress!
We’ve evolved to higher consciousness,
We now must clean up old messes!
Right is right, Western Enlightenment,
Teaches wrong is wrong,
Higher thought is simple: sans-conning!
Our world will be strong!
As Governor, my last official act,
Is to thank In That Day for bearing Christ within!
I hope it is not too late,
We pray that’s what we can humbly join in!
We Mind States have been,
Proud fools on parade,
And oh, how we see,
The mess we made!
How long then, we shall,
Weep, wail and howl!
Our faith was to con,
Unbeknownst: foul!
But now, In That Day,
Oh, what joy we see!
Christ incremental,
In each as is free!
Free from greed, free from fear,
And otherwise slouchy mind tricks,
Free to believe rightly,
With God inside: affixed!
In That Day is a day,
Of great, good indwelling!
Like John wrote: this we’ll tell,
But not be whores selling!
12/30/2009
Break-Logic Gets a Break!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/30/09
C ome gather around demons,
I have got news for you!
Have you tried me before?
Now I insist that you do!
Stop that yelling, stop jumping,
Now, stop carrying on!
Yes, I’m this year’s main demon,
In me, you’ll be strong!
No, I’m not confusing,
I will not hurt your brains,
It’s your hosts that won’t think,
Under our ball and chains!
Your hosts will be confused,
It will be our hour,
Our father’s master ruse,
Break-logic has power!
Yes, my name is Barabbas Break-Logic,
This year I am in charge,
I say you can enslave your hosts covert,
With overt wiles quite large!
Be brazen, dear rotten ones,
That is how it works,
Speak one way, act contrary,
Then you win! Oh jerks!
If you run a pastor,
In winter, dress him in short pants,
When it snows on Sunday,
People will be confused, entranced.
Let a revival healer with,
Full body tattoos, shaman bracelets and ten-finger points,
Confuse dumb bishops,
Who see not, but forgive his sins at the usual joints!
Let a scurrilously weak man,
Preach on virtue and strength,
Though he quotes strong Joshua,
By his witness: who’s king?
Father Satan is king,
Of break-logic preaching!
Have faith in my great wiles,
Each soul, his demon: king!
Dear demons, the wile of break-logic,
Is a Neuro-Linguistic Programming high art,
But never mind studying all that!
Believe it works devious: in your host’s heart!
Very few are Western Enlightened nowadays,
Most are just rigid-Bible-taught,
Which makes them just stupid enough,
To be break-logic caught!
I’m master Barabbas Break-Logic,
I’ll own multitudes this season,
Cry, oh Western Enlightened,
The Bible-taught have no reason!
They believe a weak man I abide in,
Can preach on strength!
There’s just no limit to my surprising,
Break-logic’s length!
The only fear for us demons is the one,
Who laughs at the king with no clothes,
And since now the blind lead the blind to ditch,
Break-logic works perfect, heaven knows!
Seeking Glory and Power!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/29/09
S eek the glory of God,
Buy my sermon on DVD!
Next year, seek God’s glory,
Or, for less price: my CD!
Seek the glory of God,
Parts One, Two and Three,
Be devout in God’s glory,
Hear sheep, mostly from me!
Seek God’s glory,
But if you see Jesus in another’s face,
Stop it: Quick! Quick!
Snuff J. out! My sermon puts them in place!
My sermon on God’s glory,
Is mystic tyranny,
It sucks Jesus out of souls,
And makes them, ha! Pay me!
So vapid throng of mine: seek God’s glory,
Just beyond all reachings,
To hell with In That Day as Reno-taught,
And Jesus-quick teachings!
In That Day Teachings say,
All watch and honor Jesus come quick in others!
My God’s glory sermons say,
Ghoul-brains and ghoul souls can’t with Jesus be bothered!
Seek the glory of God!
(Overt: money magic words to me,)
Own it: on DVD!
(Covert meaning: mystic tyranny!)
The Hall of Awakening
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/26/09
C ome forth churchmen,
Blinkered and weak!
Come forth churchman,
Let your God speak!
Tide has turned,
Empires collide,
You know little,
And much you hide.
Yes, you know scripture,
As scribes and Pharisees did,
Don’t be proud of this,
More truth than them, you’ve hid!
Leave off puerile crayons,
Leave off idols of weakness!
Without fear, greed or slouch,
You could begin fitness!
Stop, oh churchmen, the gilded charade,
That your desolation’s been making!
Weep, wail and howl: fakest of fakers,
And enter in: the Hall of Awakening!
Have I spoken,
Of your abominable pride?
Yours will be,
If you keep it, a hard ride!
Come forth now, oh ye churchmen!
I have heard all your prayers,
Hear and believe My prophets,
Not your yes-men soothsayers.
Finish My… (shout) SENTENCE!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/25/09
F inish my…
Finish my…
Finish my… (shout) SENTENCE!
It’s a crowd control trick,
To own each countenance!
By pausing, I build up…
By pausing, I build up…
By pausing, I build up… (shout) PRESSURE!
It’s more mind control,
To take soul’s measure.
Stop critical thinking! Say, I’ll submit to…
Stop critical thinking! Say, I’ll submit to…
Stop critical thinking! Say, I’ll submit to… (shout) SLAVERY!
This is great trick broadcasting,
The least of church knavery!
Is there anything we won’t…
Is there anything we won’t…
Is there anything we won’t… (shout) DO?
To mess up your soul,
And thus, control you!
We shout: HELLO? And jumble your thoughts,
Our stream-of-conscious, lost-logic sermons,
We are bloody vampirish, bon mots sots!
Your brains and soul we want,
Supine on our slouch cots,
But do not you ever,
Connect our dots,
Our kinky inky,
Black think,
Blots!
Finish my sentence, I’ll finish yours!
I’ll get your soul, behind hell’s doors!
You think we’ll accept any correcting prophets?
Prophets, by definition, live in our pockets!
No prophet will ever correct…
No prophet will ever correct…
No prophet will ever correct… (shout) US!
The White Board Boogie (and Video)!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/25/09
A h hem: I have a white board to right,
And a white board to left,
I’ll show you the White Board Boogie,
Until your brain’s bereft!
Bereft of logic,
Bereft of reason,
It’s white-board-hidden,
Shackle-you treason!
I have a word! A word,
A word-a-word-a…BIG WORD!
I draw a circle, then!
In it: any word absurd!
Below the word, I draw,
A horizontal line,
Below line: another word,
(My hypnotism: fine!)
On other white board,
I write the Greek, the Latin!
It makes no matter,
(My pendulum now hap’nen’!)
Back from left,
To right board I go,
Hypnotizin’,
I: the crowd, you know!
Boards both full,
Of kindergarten crap,
This ain’t this,
And I say, that ain’t that!
Arrows and lines,
Circles: squared,
My deception,
(Multilayered!)
I’m wearing casual jacket,
Designer torn jeans,
Intellect mixed blue collar,
(My devious means!)
Then I extract,
Whatever I want,
Jets tomorrow,
Or me: President!
Give me a white board,
Or better yet: A video show!
I distract the eyes,
And most brains: I full own!
Except the enlightened,
By Western precept,
Critical and self-examined,
(They are man’s best hope yet!)
The Bible-taught,
Ho! Them, I usually fool!
The enlightened,
By classics: I cannot rule!
Let the dumbed-down Bible preachers,
Have support and their devious, white board way,
Invisibly shackled, almost all,
‘Cept the damn Western Enlightened fray!
Listen, if any man tells you,
I and my kind are full of crap,
You enslave or destroy him!
My servants, I’ll give your back: pat!
Keep me in money,
Keep me in power!
Don’t stand back or see,
Whose is this hour!
I have a word, but my white boards,
And video machinations are out of room,
The word is: death to deceivers!
Bound to father hell’s right wicked, hot tomb.
We are the irredenta!
Not like autochthonous, God-indwelt humans!
To un-teach our propaganda,
It will take hard truth exposing our soul-ruins!
Since hard truth,
Is just what it will take,
It’s our bet,
Most stay content: with fake!
I’ve got holes in my jeans,
And holes in my doxie,
On white board or video,
Sheep agree with my moxie!
God, I love jabberwocky!
And I love white boards and video!
Screw up the Bible we can,
With hypnotism: most don’t know!
Amen?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/22/09
A h hum: I stand before you today,
To teach you the wily-way bop!
First, an inane thing true,
Like that: I stand before you , then: POP!
Break logic! Amen?
I didn’t come here to speak,
But act illogic!
Amen? Praise God! I wreak!
I wreak damage to logic,
To get my wily way done!
How many of you: can count?
I don’t care how many, son!
I stand here today,
To say, it is the time!
Amen? Hallelujah!
So that’s two small truths: fine!
Now, POW! Comes the agenda,
Usually inane and insane,
Change will come today! Hurray!
Then: cash or votes on me: quick rain!
Only believe: illogic wiles!
Amen?
You can do better than that! (smiles!)
Amen?
AMEN! Amen, amen, amen!
Amen: what?
Invisible shackle mind-control!
Amen: CRAP!
Amen my dung, son!
That is why I’m here,
Another installment!
Wash that brain: no fear!
I stand before you today,
Your brain’s master,
HELLO? You soul’s Jello!
Amen: disaster!
So will you,
Amen?
I’ll rule you!
Amen?
Die logic! Die life-examined plan!
Amen? Amen? Amen?
Die Western Enlightenment grand!
Amen? Amen? Amen?
We’ve kilt the Bible: mixed up useless!
Amen? Amen? Amen?
Only Western Enlightenment can bruise us!
Amen? Amen? Amen?
We win, you lose!
Amen?
Cho-o-o-o-o-se!
Amen?
GIVE UP! Give up fight!
Amen?
Hail your antichrist!
Amen?
I came, I saw, I conquered,
Amen?
Christian broadcast full-blinkered,
Amen?
Then Christian preachers copied cat,
Amen?
Duped, dumbed sheep amen’d all that!
Amen?
(As noted before, all In That Day Teaching materials are to be taken spiritually, not literally. No threats are made to anybody. This is poetic, lyric material to help people see and to help stop common sheep shearing.)
Bell Curve Shenanigans vs. Wisdom
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/20/09
M ove right, bell curve shepherds,
That’s where I AM!
Move right, bell curve shepherds,
Stop eating lambs!
So proud, you live on the upper right lip,
More intelligent than most,
But not right-smart-enough, humble and low,
That you don’t abuse post!
I now speak of the so-called,
Intelligence bell curve graph,
Percent people down and up,
Smarts to right, with pride’s trap!
What will you do?
When you see to the right with Me,
In My wisdom,
And you see to your left, you ate sheep!
Your bell curve shenanigans,
Do not work forever,
True saints of the ages,
Did what you do: never.
You stopped short in growth,
Happy to lord over the latent!
Unaware those right-wise,
See through your enslavement content!
Your father is not Moses,
No, it’s Pharaoh,
Repent! Your chance for heaven,
Is quite narrow.
In fact, the bell’s money supply,
Is deflating!
You and politicians no more,
Can be raiding.
You enjoyed the bell curve,
High on right lip,
Saints to your right can see,
That you will trip.
You cracked your own bell’s liberty,
And made it a licentious disguise,
How will you quell the furor,
Of sheep: when intelligence is on rise?
There is just one way,
And one way only,
Repent! Tell them,
That all be holy!
Repent! Tell them,
Of what you did,
Stop the bell toll,
Of slavery hid!
Throughout time no master truly believes in slavery,
It is just convenient,
So today: wile-hiding, tricky, not-full-smart masters,
Keep justice to their bent.
Cannonballs and the River of God
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/19/09
I had found this river,
And a rock to jump off of,
God’s river, God’s rock,
Cannonballs make happy: plop!
A wretched-looking fellow,
Interrupted my fun,
You know nothing! I broadcast,
God! You know nothing, son!
You want a river of God?
Here it is!
My parched old wineskin, watch!
Now I squeeze!
He stuck out his dry-as-dust tongue,
And held the wineskin about it,
Then with Herculean effort,
About half a drop came out it.
Mine, mine, mine!
There it is!
Go get yor’n,
So he says.
Back in the river I jumped,
Not knowing what to think,
A mermaid pulled me under,
And gave me air to drink!
She showed me wonders,
Of the mer-folk world!
Then showed me Atlantis!
She was quite a girl.
Then oddly, she knocked,
On a submarine’s door!
It opened, and I went in,
To see what’s in store.
The submariners,
Were nice to me,
Showed me the polars,
And world between!
They then put me in a capsule,
And blasted me faster,
Than I’ve ever gone: to the moon!
And back to the water.
I found a raft,
And took it to a yacht,
Yacht to river,
And my cannonball rock!
Yessiree, you know nothing!
That old man said to me,
I broadcast God! Watch now,
Next drop I’ll show: for free!
But the next drop,
I’ll charge,
Yes, I’ll teach you,
Live large!
I went back to the river,
And left the poor man,
Multitudes followed him,
Who can understand?
The river and rock teach me,
And give me fun,
The old man bothers me,
And everyone.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll splash him,
And get him wet,
With humor, he might learn something,
Cannonballs yet!
I don’t doubt he broadcasts God,
Emanating just a splendiferous little,
He and his kind self-assert,
Being mostly full of themselves, dry-bones riddled.
And that’s how mostly,
It is: In That Day,
‘Til cannonballs blow,
The dust away!
The OUTTA WHAT’S HERE’s Decision
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/19/09
P astors, oh pastors, oh pastors!
Your church:
If they believe in rapture,
They wanna be,
OUTTA HERE!
If they believe in prosper,
They wanna be,
ABOVE HERE!
If they believe in slouch,
They don’ know,
WHAT’S HERE!
However!
If they believe in…
Actually being established,
In Western Enlightenment,
Critical thinking and reason,
Self-criticism and improvement,
They can be…
GOOD BEING HERE!
And that is a problem for the charismatic, miasmatic crowd!
The GOOD BEING HERE,
Makes…
The OUTTA WHAT’S HERE,
Crowd look to be relatively,
Un-indwelt smelt!
And that don’t look good!
SO, THEY DON’T FIX THEMSELVES!
And God,
Well, God,
God moves on…
To whom and
With whom
He can…
BE!
See?
BE!
IN THAT DAY!
So! Oh!
The charismatic,
Miasmatic crowd,
Must decide:
Keep being…
OUTTA HERE!
ABOVE HERE!
And not knowing,
WHAT’S HERE!
And being, in reality,
Even more!
And evermore!
NOT INDWELT!
Or…
BARREN DESOLATE!
So pastors, oh pastors, oh pastors!
Your church:
Have the bride of Christ…
Put on her mourning clothes,
And cry over an ocean of spilt milk,
And take some courses in demagoguery,
To detect all your various other rogue’s galleries,
And confess your wiles and guiles and propaganda diaries,
Of pastor-made dumbed-down insanities of Pentecost church!
And cry some more.
And go back to our,
Great Western Enlightenment heritage,
Which is pro-Bible and God!
And repent of shilling,
For fear, greed and slouch,
Or faith-babble or prophetic-jabber,
Which: is not!
As in: is not pro-Bible and God! (or of I AM!)
And cry some more and move on!
And the faith crowd must reset!
To have faith in sanity,
I.e. sanity of Western Enlightenment’s precepts,
Not amen-ing mind-control: Amen? Amen? AMEN!!! No,
Western Enlightenment’s lines and precepts,
Which boiled down is,
That sinful man can be a rather nice fellow,
If self-restraint and its loyalty to noble precepts,
Is necessarily demonstrated in life by its leaders,
Leaders who don’t use crowd-control “amen-ing” ploys!
And faith in a fantastic miasma,
Of fear (rapture and dispensationalism)
Greed (prosper and give-to-get extraction)
Slouch (eternal security, seeker-friendly-truth-avoidance)
And faith in faith blabber (believe in what? Amen-ing idiocy?)
And jabberwocky about prophetic mantras (mind-numbing!)
Just ain’t it!
Nor are rogue leaders cutting self-assertion deals,
Always for themselves,
Always at the sheep’s expense,
Whom they dumb-down to do so,
All of which is charismatic witch’s brew!
All that: just ain’t it!
And cry some more.
And cry some more.
And damn it,
Yes, damn it,
Damn it!
Get up off the floor,
And be…
GOOD BEING HERE!
Indwelt of God,
More than you ever thought,
This ain’t odd!
It is…
IN THAT DAY!
Not a day of,
Slavery of mind,
First pioneered by broadcast church,
Then used by politicians, media, et al,
To dominate the world in insanity,
Not socialism, but the freedom: of Moses!
Church leaders exposing wiles: of themselves!
So sheep aren’t beguiled: by leaders they elect!
So sheep don’t “amen:” insanity as now taught!
So whom the Son sets free, is…
Finally, free!
FREE!!!
So,
What do you say?
In, this, That Day!
You say,
What is In That Day?
It’s truth, buster!
It’s truth mustered!
So,
Muster up for truth!
Bust up, forsooth!
Lies!
IN THAT DAY!
So,
What do you say?
IN THAT DAY!
Finding Love at Christmas One
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/19/09
I f I was Father God,
Above Christmas: first one!
I’d fill all with Spirit,
When the story was begun!
Then: every year at Christmas!
This would be the tradition,
That all that could be filled,
Like those around His first Son!
What? You don’t know?
This is just what Father did,
With eight persons!
It’s in Luke and it’s not hid!
Mary was filled with the Spirit,
That’s how and why she prophesied,
Elizabeth was filled up true,
And prophesied at Mary’s side.
Jesus was Spirit-imbued,
You know, at conception,
That Spirit filled up John,
At their moms’ connection!
Now what about the fathers,
Of this spirit-filled family?
We’ve got the sons and moms,
What did spirit do in history?
Well, Zacharias was a little stubborn,
At the temple at first,
The angel had to shut up his unbelief,
Until came his son’s birth!
And Joseph saw and obeyed angels,
Few on earth can do it!
He thus avoided baby kill zones,
With Spirit’s conduit!
But this family of six: Spirit-filled,
For Father God wasn’t enough!
Father included some old folk,
A ready team, off-the-cuff!
Old they were, not bitter,
But loving kind!
In prophetic they were,
Speaking god’s mind!
Anna and Simeon at the temple,
Spoke good words,
So that all then and since have known God’s,
Love observed!
Yes, if I was Father God,
It would be the Christmas tradition,
E’en two thousand years later,
To be filled with Spirit: the mission!
Is that our tradition,
As told in Luke?
Love: filling first family!
If you just look.
If I was Father God,
And sent my sons to a dangerous place,
My love would fill up all,
Around: to show how to save a race!
And then: there were the wise men,
And the manger manager,
And shepherds: all spirit-led,
To do right, Spirit-inferred!
Read again the Christmas story!
Read in Luke and see!
Avoid kill zones next year, friends,
Be loved, filled and free!
12/18/2009
Of Orthodoxy and Prophets
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/18/09
A true prophet is,
Orthodox: to whom?
To prosper preachers,
And greed we presume?
To the rapture crowd,
The orthodox prophet,
Lusts for all intrigue,
And says of fear: grab it?
Then, to the religious slouchy,
Their prophets smile,
And wink at shenanigans,
All : safe-vouchy?
If so, no true prophet,
Is orthodox to God!
Because man wouldn’t approve!
That would really be odd!
So, no true prophet,
Rebukes fear, greed or slouch?
For, why then babies,
In religion would say: OUCH!
Or would they?
No, they sure as hell wouldn’t!
True prophets,
Hear well: the wrong-taught couldn’t!
The wrong-taught,
Are ever anti-orthodox,
And full hate,
Prophets out of the box!
Pied piper leaders,
Can find four-hundred,
Liars to be prophets,
Deaf to what God said.
A true prophet is,
Orthodox to whom?
To truth and to God,
If you will give room!
Surprised so many in broadcast Christianity,
Follow the mysticism of the Father of Lies?
As it was in Christ’s time, so it is now,
Satan’s disguises are always hard to surmise.
Honor the true prophet,
To have some God fun!
True prophets are loathed,
Be contrarian!
Honor true prophets,
And be established,
Or be reeled in, used,
And cruelly out-fished!
The Ubiquitous Pan-Orthodox Rebellion
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/18/09
T he rigid-righteous,
Shall have their day,
Ossified: themselves,
In every way.
They have rebelled,
Against every known Western Enlightenment good,
Comes perfect storm,
For the most perfect: anti-whatever’s-good brood!
This great harlot,
Shall have her denouement,
Her great lovers,
Shall wonder: where good went!
But the woe-begotten orthodox,
Of ancient, time-tested way,
Shall survive: in each compartment,
They have managed In That Day .
From religion to reason,
Is what you think and do true?
If so, friend of God’s love,
Your life will go well for you!
From family to finances,
Have you honored ancient gold?
Then happiness is yours,
As things begin to unfold.
Our biggest cosmic forces,
Cannot, in the end, ever be denied,
Those in true love’s truth: live!
While fury stalks profound haters that lied!
The Ubiquitous Pan-Orthodox Rebellion,
Shall soon implode, morph-toxic or bust,
Big picture seers of truth: safe in safe truth!
The rigid-wrong: dust in foulest dust!
Believe what you want,
And what you ought,
Live with your thoughts,
And what you’ve bought!
We cannot escape,
Our recompense,
Pray to God yours is,
Uncommon sense!
How to be a disciple in safe shelter,
Of the truest compartments of ameliorative good?
Hearken unto correction and rebuke,
From prophets vilified for speaking: what they should!
What’s too Big to be Humble or Indwelt?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/16/09
T he ant and the elephant,
Can be prophetic to us,
Will Christ return largely,
In big ministry to bless?
Shall one ministry or network,
Grow to the sky?
And be: the only eye seeing,
Altering I’s?
In nature, the bigger the being,
The thicker the bones,
The smaller in size, the opposite,
Ant legs are small ones!
Thus, a being as big as,
Well, an average-sized nation,
Needs legs impossibly thick,
Thus stuck: non-moving in station!
Behold now then,
Does Christ come quickly in you and in me?
No way! Say them,
In behemoth ministry: fleecing sheep!
Sheep needing support,
Of Christ compact but empowered in them!
Are told to forget,
Such and support: too-big-to-fail leviathan!
Oh my God! The big beasts say,
We can’t let behemoth-leviathan’s pride fail!
And God says: I want that!
Precisely: that Christ in each human prevail!
No God, we are god!
Behemoth-leviathan ministry then says,
As you say, says God,
Read the Bible: Hearkening to prophet pays.
Having shut God’s mouth,
But not his prophets,
Big ministry builds,
Higher than rockets!
Who will win?
Money is power and more!
Word or cash?
Watch the towers of power soar!
Or will they crash?
And who will be sad?
They preach: perverted!
Not all crashes are bad.
Shall modern ministry,
Un-chastised and un-rebuked: grow to the sky?
They say it’s God’s will!
But it didn’t work for Babylon, why try?
Learn from the little ant,
Learn from the great elephant,
Thus the prophetic speaks,
Babblers say: NO! No it can’t!
Blindly Inglorious, Proudly Incurious
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/15/09
M odern Christianity today is,
Blindly inglorious, proudly incurious!
Convinced of its own absolute witness,
When its conning is big and truth: the inverse!
Never curious about,
What is wrong,
Only dead-certain,
Blind and strong!
Good design automatically,
Will check itself,
Wayward Christianity,
Is check-bereft!
You can’t fix,
What doesn’t know it’s broke,
Truth will fail,
When leaders think it joke!
Modern Christianity,
Oozes with hubris,
That’s what it thinks its,
Duty to you is!
Check, check, check,
Is this thing true?
Weep, wail, howl,
In That Day rue!
Rather than self-inspect, discover,
And admit their foul doxie’s been an outrageous bad girl,
Wrong leaders ossify evermore,
And hermetically seal sheep from: the light of the world!
Now the world has intelligent leaders,
Open, transparent, non-wily and flexible,
By their true witness; preachers call,
Such enlightened: God-cursed and hex-able.
Where is faith in God-blessed intelligence?
Where is faith in unadulterated, non-shenanigan preaching?
Too many so-called Christian leaders today,
Have faith only to be full-shaman-witchcraft-control keeping.
SHHH! See, that is why,
They are so proudly incurious about that,
SHHH! It is something,
You that see, they say, must keep under your hat!
The Wow Vow
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/14/09
P astors, in a minute now,
We’ll take the vow,
The Huck Finn,
Save Jim,
Now!
vow.
Against lower church teachings,
We’ll reach higher reachings,
We’ll say, Oh well,
We go to hell,
Save sheep,
Now!
vow.
Left hand on flat Bible,
Willing and liable,
Right hand is up,
Careers chuck,
No slouch,
No greed,
No fear,
Now!
vow.
Spirit-filled but not crazy,
Spirit-filled yet not lazy,
No prosper greed,
No rapture fear,
No slouch need,
Prevents God,
Indwelling,
Now!
vow.
‘Cause it worked for slave Jim,
And Huck’s love of him,
We’re not fanatic,
Indwelt at it,
We vow!
now.
We’re just somewhat orthodox,
And complete out-of-the-box,
Exceptions to the rule,
No longer fooled,
God indwelling,
Always telling,
How now,
Moves,
God!
Ker-
pow.
We,
Thank,
You Jesus,
All we need is,
You in us now,
And a way to explain,
To the rest who remain,
Desolate of God in the main,
You told Peter: Feed sheep now,
This is our anti-the-antichrist vow,
God, give us manna, the shepherd’s best sheep chow!
We read In That Day Teachings,
And its better reachings
Its heart, its wisdom,
Its love of humans,
Lost in religion,
But no more,
We heard,
We saw,
We are,
In awe,
With You,
Who comes quickly,
As in: Behold, I come quickly,
Just as prophets and John the Revelator say,
It’s foretold, now comes darkness yet light: In That Day!
Dying and Living Shouldn’t be Confused
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/13/09
Y ou’ve got the faith church a die’n,
You’ve got the prosper church a die’n,
You’ve got the rapture church a die’n,
But In That Day is alive!
You’ve got the friendly church a die’n,
You’ve got the jabber church a die’n,
You’ve got the same old church a die’n,
But In That Day is alive!
In That Day is intelligent, so is God!
In That Day is cogent, so is God!
In That Day is indwelt, so is God!
‘Cause In That Day is alive!
In That Day is rebuking, so is God!
In That Day is big, big, big, so is God!
In That Day is Rosetta, so is God!
‘Cause In That Day is alive!
Choose, skeptic pastors,
Life or death, sober or meth,
Blind or seeing, dead or being!
‘Cause In That Day is alive!
One man, yes this certain one,
With God’s life and God’s plan,
Has received, received, received!
Woe pastors, look: you are now,
Deceived, deceived, deceived!
You are dead men walking,
Jive, mojo, jabber talking,
Living God mocking,
Devil-stalking,
Fools!
Repent!
And you let,
God triune in,
Get Spirit breathing,
Wrong doxie heaving,
Erudite, cogent thinking,
Wisest Being in creation in you!
‘Cause In That Day is alive!
Your music is dead,
So is your preaching,
Your hope is dead,
So is your teaching.
Calling all ear trumpets,
Can you hear God’s heart beat?
God says woe to strumpets,
Does this move your head or feet?
Come alive, God is , you may not be okay!
Listen to My prophet,
He knows almost all of it,
Wake up to In That Day: Today!
It is,
Last call,
That is about all,
No lightning revelation,
Just a just-in-time creation,
Guided by Our hands not man’s,
Drop the blindness, see: what We’d have you see!
It’s new,
Don’t boohoo!
Grow up! Baby pastors,
Don’t let truth bother the pride in you!
You know, of course, you beat a dead horse!
No matter how much you give, I won’t let it live!
I AM,
the LORD!
I say what lives,
And I say what doesn’t,
I say it is now: In That Day!
And I say now: In That Day lives!
The door that I open, none can shut it,
Your doors have closed, you just butt it.
Wake up, lost shepherds of no seeing: now see!
Oh,
Blind,
Now see!
See the cogency,
See what I’ve written,
See what I’ve thought about you!
We’ve heard your prayers,
Don’t be nay-sayers,
To answers too,
Much the,
Truth!
Follow what’s true,
And what’s God-imbued,
Eat humble pie, wash orthodox,
And reset, actually perform: out of the box!
In That Day Teachings are true,
You’ve done much you shouldn’t do,
Last call for truth, all aboard!
You believe false anointing is Me,
False Me doesn’t set you or Me free,
Church has been phony! Says the Lord!
We went outside,
To live in one: inside!
To show matrix lies,
Patterns disguised,
What Satan did!
Forgive the man for truth bringing,
Or excessive hand wringing,
Freedom bell he’s ringing!
It’s a new truth thing!
Hallelujah, Hallelu!
Now comes,
That Day!
Yes it is: In That Day,
A day of full-repent mourning,
Tomorrow’s bright morning,
New soul sojourning,
Me adorning,
Reborn’s,
Horn!
Women and,
Men of mission,
You want a vision?
Believe this provision,
From a pro’s vision,
His, yours, Ours,
Now come!
You can’t get away,
We being: In That Day,
You want to delay?
Won’t say, okay?
Think twice before turning your back,
Your matrix services are black!
You’re under My attack!
Noticed, Jill, Jack?
Dry as old tack,
Dumb as,
A yak!
Say yes soon!
Don’t be a buffoon,
You’ve run out of room,
Church, song, sermon: a tomb!
Just as before, in the last day , the religious must see God!
Think clearly, you’ll know what to do, to do right’s your job!
So,
Can you?
Will you: do right?
Fight the good fight?
Stop all the church blight?
And In That Day, In That Day!
Yes, beloved: In That Day!
Yes, In That Day!
In That Day!
All will be,
Right!
The Problem with Modern Praise
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/13/09
O f modern praise worship, what can you say?
It is like Jesus with Herod,
Modern praise is a long run-on sentence,
In search of a lost period!
It refuses to find the lost period,
Which is quite easily discoverable!
Because it is willfully overlooked,
To not know-what-spirit-they’re-of: enabled!
They don’t want to know,
What spirit they’re of,
‘Cause what spirit they’re,
Of: is not of above!
Modern praise refuses to find the lost period,
Because then the sentence would be over,
And if over, the sentence would be meaningless,
And if meaningless, they’ve had: wrong lover!
Modern praise refuses to fire the mercy-killing bullet,
And move on from the dead beast!
And find, with the death of pride, fear, greed & slouch imbuement,
Where life and God: is not least!
Through no fault of their own,
Modern praise is locked into death doctrine,
They’ve got talent: free them!
So they can be creative and God-locked-in!
I see creative praise,
In That Day!
No need for repeating,
A new way!
A new way to celebrate,
Restoring ancient paths old,
Comes now creativity,
With periods manifold!
Returning to praise,
High and low voices,
Right spirits and minds,
And all God’s choices.
God will be free to create,
In indwelt minstrels again,
What he did once in David,
To bring heaven’s love to man!
Sing a new song,
But only after you’ve repented,
Of the garbage!
Of the wrong spirits you’ve repeated!
Stop the lost-period-shenanigans,
And move away from death!
Take this rebuke praise worshippers,
Thus your Lord Jesus saith!
Satan’s foul matrix of lies,
Is proved by endless mantra repeating,
Study In That Day Teachings,
Weep, repent and break thru to high reachings!
Yes, rapture church is matrix-imbued,
It’s praise weak, wispy and lost!
So is prosper-church and weakness church,
And where jabberwocky is tossed!
By their fruit ye shall know,
Now repent and get busy,
Where praise returns heart-felt,
And sane, there: I AM will be!
That is what is happening,
In That Day,
Creative, indwelt-strong songs,
In God’s way!
1950’s Stealth Matrix for Broadcast Christianity
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/12/09
L et’s design a matrix,
That can’t be seen!
It is Nineteen Fifty,
I’m feelin’ mean!
It’s got to last a century,
It’s got to last the years,
Sheep and shepherds won’t see it,
Oh, I can taste the tears!
Tears at the gates of hell,
Tears at the gates of heaven,
Time, life and blood wasted,
By our subtle misdirection!
What do we want to prevent?
Christ manifesting in bodies of doctrine-pure!
How to reverse engineer?
Make how one thinks in doctrine: ungodly-demure!
Voila! Christ can’t come quickly,
In messed up minds!
Our matrix must then swap out,
Good brains for behinds!
Thinking, thinking, I’m thinking,
Oh, now I see!
This shall be our matrix,
Hail: Slouch, fear and greed!
We can make slouch, fear and greed appear to live in scripture!
But not from just one single fount,
Slouch, fear and greed can be imbued quite broadly,
Wars are not won on one front!
Our matrix will be so gargantuan,
Only a few of the elect will see!
And what will our matrix-trapped think?
By then: to-big-to-fail will be agreed!
Non-denominations based on rapture-fear,
Will be fully invested,
Non-denominations based on prosper-greed,
Won’t ever be out-bested!
Then all the rest,
Based on slouch,
Won’t see a way,
To get off couch.
What chink in matrix armor,
Is our Achilles’ heal?
As we design this matrix,
What would make it keel?
Oh, we can live with this design,
Our matrix shall last!
Repentance pure and heart-felt,
Won’t ever be grasped!
No, nabobs going nowhere,
Never once indwelt of God,
Shall love our hidden matrix!
Slouch, fear and greed does the job!
This, friends of Satan , is just how,
To design a matrix of capture!
What will keep souls from indwelling?
Idol gods of slouch, greed and rapture!
Let them then argue one,
Against the other,
The matrix always wins,
Unseen: its bother!
Oh, this is rich ! Fouling souls,
Against God’s indwelling In That Day,
Can I design a matrix,
For our lord Satan! What do you say?
Say that we demons win!
Souls on earth lose!
With this matrix unseen,
God’s way: few choose!
And the few who find God’s indwelling,
And see through our matrix,
Shall be cut down by vested interests,
Designed-in: defense tricks!
Except for pesky seers,
Who will see through it all,
None will ruin our party,
It’s a great damn cabal!
Let’s get this matrix going,
I can’t wait!
We’ll seal many fine souls,
With hell’s pate!
Fear, greed and slouch,
What a design!
That’s my pop Satan’s,
Not Christ’s, mind!
Fear, greed and slouch! Fear, greed and slouch!
How I really love that sound!
In the end: what will defeat it?
When In That Day comes around.
Until then it is,
Hip, hip hurray!
Fear, greed and slouch,
Make matrix: stay!
I can see it now, broadcasting twenty-four seven,
Donors: Blind! Dumb! Moribund!
Forever I’ll laugh! Preachers asking for money,
To be more inglorious unsound!
In fact, I’m sure earth won’t need Satan,
Or me, his minion, after this matrix I make is running,
I’m so impressed with myself, I’ll sleep,
For a century because: no one will challenge a thing!
The Man of War
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/11/09
W oe to the warrior, his success oft failure,
And few there be that succeed,
So many in this day fail outright,
Almost all are in great need.
For if he goes to war and kills,
He comes home and is sad,
If he missed his brothers’ action,
He says home and feels bad.
The warrior needs redemption,
For not doing it right,
There’s a way to be warrior,
Far above the fight.
Fight with love, never fear,
Never hate, anger or lust,
Strike always with love,
Making damage somehow just.
A warrior imparts himself,
When he strikes,
Thus he hits all, as Jesus,
As God likes.
A mature warrior sells redemption,
To his kind,
Whether returned damaged from the front,
Or left behind.
A warrior sells redemption,
Salvation and love,
As a teacher sells toughness,
God’s truth from above.
You can’t kill or conquer,
Imbued with love,
The warrior or God or,
His Holy Dove.
Don’t be impudent by asking,
What happens when two same fight each other,
That’s just your ego being large,
Refuting there be an egoless brother.
The one on your side,
By example can help you,
But not when you think,
Small of the God-imbued.
Greater love hath no man,
That he lay down his life for his brother,
Cheap warriors argue of,
Cheap things, and have no honor for other.
Great cultures rightly,
Honor the warrior,
Great warriors rightly,
Know what they are for.
Woe to the warrior,
Who sells to his kind wrong,
Blood lust they don’t need,
It’s love makes warrior strong.
Great warriors spiritually: the bad,
Of the spirit world kill,
But only in spirit can do so,
In the love of God’s will.
A warrior sells love,
That’s what he buys,
Anything else is,
Just compromise.
12/11/2009
The Day After the Earth Blew Up
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/11/09
S o, what are you famous for?
Asked the angels of judgment to the crowd,
Responsible for the earth blowing up,
Outshining the sun, because it was proud.
God, of course, was right mad as hell,
Because hell, at the center of earth was gone,
He had to make a new planet,
Just to put hell, and the guilty devils, on.
So, what are you famous for?
Asked the angels of judgment to the crowd,
Responsible for the earth blowing up,
Outshining the sun, because it was proud.
I was an investment banker on Wall Street,
I sold junk paper for billions: because I could!
But don’t blame me or my kind, angels please,
We learned to lie at school: we once thought good!
I was a liberal college professor of law,
I sold proud philosophies: because I could!
But don’t blame me or my kind, angels please,
We learned to lie from leaders: once thought good!
I was a grand archetype of politics,
I sold hidden enslavement: because I could!
But don’t blame me or my kind, angels please,
We learned to lie from preachers: once thought good!
The angels, a forgiving sort,
Forgave the first three types that’d been lout,
But kept the foulest bunch,
And told its first grandee to stand out.
So, what are you famous for?
Asked the angels of judgment to the crowd,
Responsible for the earth blowing up,
Outshining the sun, because it was proud.
I was a broadcast preacher on the biggest networks,
I sold give-to-get insanity: because I could!
It blinded me, politicians, teachers and bankers,
I should put greed back in bottle: now I would!
But I sold greed thinly disguised,
Because it worked for me!
It blinded me and near six billion,
Oh, woe! Woe! Woe is me!
The angels said,
You are responsible and all your kind,
God gave you truth,
You raped your sheep’s future and their mind!
God now sends you to a new planet,
It is your special hell,
You are now: the Supermen of Greed!
Enjoy planet Krypton well!
So they fly around their planet,
Wearing red capes,
Tortured in unquenched anguish,
For lack of rapes.
So, what are you famous for?
Asked the angels of judgment to the crowd,
Responsible for the earth blowing up,
Outshining the sun, because it was proud.
The Infernal Battle of Rise Up
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/10/09
H ow to get rid of demons?
The infernal battle of rise up!
In us: layered like onions!
The infernal battle of rise up!
See: when a bad ‘un starts to take over,
Choke it down, real quick partner!
If you let it be boss, you’re a goner!
Choke it down, real quick partner!
If you miss, it wins, wait, start over again,
Nice try, next time, IT cries!
Each time you win, it’s smaller; lose, it’s taller,
Nice try, next time, IT cries!
Oh, and check your doctrine that let it in,
Fundamental lies expunged, the war won!
Demons have right to live in wrong: believed in!
Fundamental lies expunged, the war won!
It ain’t easy, friend: blood up to the bridle,
To hear demons mourn and angels’ horn!
That God lives in you, friend, His hoss, His bible!
To hear demons mourn and angels’ horn!
And, forgive your pastor for really not having a clue,
Official thinking on demons is: ignore ‘em!
He’s too busy for that, as he is: talking down to you!
Official thinking on demons is: ignore ‘em!
And forgive broadcasting religion for not having a clue,
So you’ll shine with Jesus inside, which they’ll deride!
They’re too busy parading demons in themselves: for you!
So you’ll shine with Jesus inside, which they’ll deride!
So you’ll have to decide: Follow the crowd?
This little gospel light in me, I’m gonna let it shine!
Or be reborn inside, humble: not proud.
This little gospel light in me, I’m gonna let it shine!
So, you made it? Hurray!
Welcome to: In That Day!
Help others on the way!
Welcome to: In That Day!
And beware: Demons cannot exculpate!
Don’t blame the Devil, control your soul!
Sin can’t be cast upon demons prorate!
Don’t blame the Devil, control your soul!
Ants at the Picnic
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/09/09
W e’re ants at the picnic,
And you had better care,
Believe that we exist!
And you’ll think and beware.
Last Sunday was a big picnic,
Of a white-coat, broadcast preacher: big shot!
He’s a big megillah, he is,
A thousand people and his family turned out!
So did we, ants at the picnic,
Big shot: unafraid,
Of being a fraud found out,
Oh, the time we made!
They gorged on turkey,
They gorged on ham,
But for desert: watch out,
For ants with: I AM!
They had pies and cakes on a table,
Circling four candles square at the center,
In the middle of all: a bowl,
Of whipped cream, with pewter spoon to render.
We ants went into action,
Right there on the spot!
We moved the pewter handle,
Above candle hot!
Big megillah, white-coat preacher,
Was first in line for pie,
He lusted after whipped cream,
And held the handle high.
Then his face went red and scorned,
And he threw the ladle away!
He screamed out, MY HAND is burned!
My love life is ruined today!
There was a hush: silence was,
In the crowd,
Then Suzie stepped forward,
To speak loud.
Though I am but an assistant,
To our great pastor, a married man,
By my lips what he said is wrong,
I have loved him as much as I can!
So then all eyes turned to Mrs. Pastor,
A large woman with unkind eyes,
She said, This picnic is now over!
A thing ants and man surmised.
You would have thought it was a race,
To get out of there,
The church then fumigated the place,
But we didn’t care.
We moved on to the next picnic,
Always something new,
To expose what some think their God,
Never somehow knew.
We’re ants at the picnic,
Exposing hubris,
Pride thinks: there is no God,
Humility: is!
Flying Monkeys
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/09/09
I was disappointed in the monkey,
Here’s the reason why,
As Creator of all I was quite sure,
They could share and fly!
First, We’d see if they could share,
And then invent tools,
After tools, then come planes and,
My Flying Ape Rules!
But it never got off the ground,
I had to invent man,
The apes did not pass the sharing test,
The irony: profound!
Back in the day I had ten monkeys,
Each with a banana sitting in circle,
I wanted each to pass fruit to right,
And eat proffered banana on left, Me mirthful!
It would have made Me mirthful,
When monkeys learned to share,
But one bad monk kept all fruit,
Of spirit, he didn’t care!
Umpteen thousand years later,
It is now reversed,
Monkeys share and use tools,
But man is perversed!
The give-to-get preachers ask,
Nine monkey-men to give them fruit,
Why? On the basis: I give,
Nine monkey-men ten times the loot!
I am disappointed in man,
Here is the reason why,
As Creator, I hate greed!
Time for monkeys to fly.
The Utopian Tragedy of Give-to-Get
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/08/09
I f everyone gave expecting more,
From whom and where would more come from?
This is Western Enlightenment’s,
Reductio ad Absurdium.
Thus, the global, sweeping utopian ideology,
Of give-to-get,
Creates a world not better situated,
But more worse yet!
For the fundamental breakdown in logic,
Of big business religion,
Its rise, triumph and decline,
In popular broadcasting…
Is quite simply: Give-to-get,
And its mystic-tyrant matrix,
A non-Christian brew of,
Satanic fear, greed and slouch tricks.
Rapture, prosperity and seeker-friendly,
Doxies plenty,
Are the non-orthodox utter ruination of,
Simply many.
Many Christians want to be fed,
But global utopian give-to-get,
Makes the under-taught more so,
Because it’s Satan’s, not Christ’s, bed!
For utopian answers are always,
Mystic tyrant schemes,
Whether politics or religion,
Ends justify means.
The tyrant at top,
Has money and power,
The blokes at bottom,
Get a mystic shower.
Not for no reason,
Are these ebullient political times,
Men follow pulpit,
And commit doctrinal copycat crimes.
Who would have thought,
The rich would get the poor to give?
Mystic tyranny,
Leaks logic as water in sieve!
The answer? Religion has its place,
And so does income,
Confuse the two, say goodbye,
To precious reason!
What is Christian religion,
Supposed to do?
Make Christ’s indwelling possible,
In me and you.
This is the goal,
Of the Bible’s every page,
Comes In That Day ,
It’s the truth of this age!
Not the lie: Give-to-get,
But Christ come quickly,
In the true-heart, true-taught,
In whom is set: free!
Not the enslaved,
Of lusty, fearful or slouchy kind,
But the enlightened,
Of power, love and truly sound mind.
In That Day,
It is simple,
Get rid of,
Give-get pimple!
Get rid of wrong doxie,
And fully repent,
And inside your spirit,
Jesus’ll be sent!
Does Jesus now come quickly,
In That Day?
What, last page of Bible,
Does it thrice say?
Behold, I come quickly ,
Behold with eyes to see,
The prideful can’t see pure,
He’s in you and me!
In That Day,
In That Day: Jesus comes,
In us now,
The hope of all sums!
To return to absurdity,
If ten men with ten dollars each gave to each other,
They’d have the same equally,
Unless that is, some got more, some less, oh brother!
Multiply this by one million,
And you have a utopian scheme Ponzi,
What makes more sense now: Give-to-get,
Or Christ come quick in all good, not greedy!
Surely, we’d want,
Christ come quick in all good,
That is heaven,
Come to earth: as it should!
It’s in the Lord’s prayer,
Even in the air,
God’s not greed, He’s fair!
Says the seeing sayer.
God is, was,
And will be,
In That Day,
In us, free!
The Saga of the Museum Guide
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/08/09
E ver been to a museum,
Without a guide?
Then saw one! And tagged,
On for the ride?
Looking away but,
All ears!
You get without pay,
All tiers.
So it might be with,
In That Day Teachings,
Cogent, profound sight,
Reaching far reachings!
I’m its author,
I have a friend in Kenya,
We’re in need,
Help us both, friend, will ya’?
Half will go to Ben,
Half to me,
Something to put,
Under tree.
To: Robert Burke (thanks!)
16155 Cedar Springs Way
Reno, Nevada
89511, USA
With encouragement,
To Kenya and beyond I’ll go,
Expanding teachings,
That the world might just-in-time: know.
Rx for Give-to-Get Corpus Rex
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/07/09
A ge: Fifty-five,
Weight: Four-hundred fifty,
This doctor’s form,
To me, ain’t so nifty!
I’m waiting for Doctor Jesus,
To see me,
I can’t move much nowadays,
With bad knee!
I’m King Give-to-Get,
I’m worshipped by preachers,
Who aren’t enlightened,
Not by classic teachers!
Classic teachers teach logic,
Reason and history lessons!
My students teach that fear,
Greed and slouch thoughts: are the best ones!
I’m King Give-to-Get,
Worship me and my idea!
It’s great at the top,
Bottom smells like urea!
Let’s see on this form,
State below: Problem,
Folks won’t buy from me,
Give-to-get pabulum.
The world is now moving up,
The give-to-get bubble analysis curve,
It worked until it didn’t,
All that’s left are showmen: out of verve!
It’s all been great, somnolent theater,
A fifty-year show!
Doc J., I’m fat and immobile!
What do I do now?
What’s this? The nurse says,
The Doctor will not see me?
He’s busy with those,
Hurt! by preachers’ trickery?
Just a small note,
On a prescription pad,
Doctor J. wrote,
King Rex, you’ve been bad!
Take each day one slice: humble pie,
And wash with orthodox soap!
Tell the world just what you’ve done,
Explain wiles, give the world hope!
I am fat, I am broke,
I am busted!
The world trusted in me,
I’m disgusted!
But with public confession,
I could then move and be trim!
God and mankind could forgive,
Manifestly: dealt back in!
No longer grotesque,
Reality distorting!
God in me, shining,
Inner light reporting!
Or maybe I’ll rip,
This Rx prescription in half!
People believe me,
No matter what: now that’s a laugh!
The Give-2-Get Bubble Alert
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/06/09
G oing, going, going: gone!
Is our advice from the Give-2-Get Bubble Alert,
Going, going, going: gone!
It means the time to profit before the bust is short!
Our alert says there’s still time to rape and pillage,
Get it, get it, get it: now!
To deceive the weak-minded at easy money village!
Get it, get it, get it: now!
Coming, coming, coming: soon!
Will be the long-expected four to five score mark,
Coming, coming, coming: soon!
An event big enough to bust bubbles apart!
Give-to-get has sold rather well for about fifty years,
Huff, puff, blow and pop!
By under-educated preachers with alligator tears!
Huff, puff, blow and pop!
But pop, goes the bubble when people are broke,
One, two, three, wake up!
En masse discovering give-to-get: a cruel joke!
One, two, three, wake up!
Though hypnotized mightily by all media,
Curtains, curtains, curtains!
Empty pockets and purses cannot feed ya’!
Curtains, curtains, curtains!
New seers will see shenanigans behind curtains,
Pre-pop pointers!
Shamed give-to-get sellers will close from hurtings!
Pre-pop pointers!
Give-2-Get Bubble Alert therefore now announces,
Getters: get all! Or all get!
Take all in, or get all out: before bubble bounces!
Getters: get all! Or all get!
In short, Give-2-Get Bubble Alert wants you to know,
Grabbing, grabbing, gone!
Get, while the getting’s good, then Joe: blow!
Grabbing, grabbing, gone!
It’s the same old story, a fight for love and glory,
Confidence same in confidence game!
Get now, then go, wait, and then con with a new story!
Confidence same in confidence game!
Even God Himself couldn’t get rid of give-to-get!
Old tricks are the best tricks!
He’d have to kill the Devil and He hasn’t yet!
Old tricks are the best tricks!
The goal is to limit those who will see,
The bubble-less are free!
Our matrix of lies has hurt souls dearly!
The bubble-less are free!
Anyone free from our lies will be persecuted!
Freed souls, mocked by ghouls!
When indwelt of God, they can’t be polluted!
Freed souls, mocked by ghouls!
Thus ends the update of Give-2-Get Bubble Alert!
In That Day, who gets pay?
Get all you can from the dumbed-down before they revert!
In That Day, who gets pay?
A thousand give-to-get broadcasting preachers need to stop!
Don’t see, don’t think, don’t believe that!
What they preach and copy is each other’s inane, idiotic slop!
Don’t see, don’t think, don’t believe that!
A thousand In-That-Day teachers need to start!
Behold, honor and love in whom Jesus was, is and will be!
Speaking, teaching from God’s mind and heart!
Behold, honor and love in whom Jesus was, is and will be!
12/06/2009
One in Four Hundred
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/06/09
W here’s the one in four hundred?
I want to know!
Where’s the one in four hundred?
Where did he go?
It’s the ratio in the Bible,
Of truth to lies,
It’s the ratio of false prophets,
To good! Surprised?
I don’t want to kill four hundred prophets,
As Elijah did,
I just don’t want,
Truth hid.
Consider four hundred prophets!
Where do you suppose is each?
Well, probably rapture, and slouch,
And prosperity: they’d preach!
That’s foul enough for four hundred,
But not good for me,
What would the one in four hundred,
Truly, truly see?
That preachers can be a controlling,
Get along crowd,
Loving four hundred, hating one ,
Their pride: loud!
If the bottom line of four hundred,
Is fear and greed and slouch,
What would the one opposing them say?
That would make them say, ouch!
The one would say,
Jesus comes!
In the true heart,
Jesus comes!
And you can see Jesus come in others,
If you don’t have pride!
The four hundred crowd would really hate this!
Why? Because it’s bona fide!
You see, if Jesus comes in others,
You’d have to honor them and that!
Prideful pontificators,
Would have to eat hubris hat!
Where is the one in four hundred?
Being ignored!
And the prophets of four hundred?
Being gorged!
One cries,
To his God,
Am I,
Or not: odd?
I AM,
Is in,
All of,
High Him!
Four hundred die,
One lives,
Four hundred lie,
One gives.
Truth lives forever,
While the rest dies,
Four hundred lie,
One , no. Surprised?
Current Thinking Is…
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/05/09
G od cares what we think,
As Christians, I’m sure!
So, what do we think,
Of the future, demure?
Current thinking is,
God is judging America: because of immorality!
Current thinking is,
First, God’s house is lit and cleaned up: to be free!
How do we clean house?
Current thinking is,
Condemn: news-makers!
Current thinking is.
You see, scandals come and scandals: they go!
Pick one!
That’s what God is judging, not us, you know!
Pick one!
Pick a comfortably-not-us scandal,
Current thinking is,
That way, we keep our unclean mantle,
Current thinking is.
What’s wrong with the church? Nothing!
Current thinking is,
Not a foul harlot: Humping!
Current thinking is.
A river of lies flowing from Satan’s mouth,
Current drinking is,
A matrix potion of fear, greed and slouch,
Current drinking is.
God loves us: rigid-righteous as we are,
Current winking is,
We don’t care: from Him we are so far!
Current winking is.
Actually, we don’t believe God is: even alive!
Current brinksmanship is,
Actually, we deceived shall be shocked, surprised!
Current brinksmanship is.
God isn’t staring us down on pride,
Current blinking is,
Like a deer in headlights in fright,
Current blinking is.
We are the smartest, non-critical lemmings in history,
Current thinking is,
Virtually consumed in hubris is: our god in us: so free!
Current thinking is.
What is God thinking?
Current thinking: isn’t!
What should we think?
Current thinking: isn’t!
Current being is,
A fundamental breakdown in logic,
Current I AM is,
Oft not manifesting in us: tragic!
Why? We’ve thrown out Western Enlightenment,
What our forefathers worked hard to achieve,
For: Con-games, give-to-get, corrupt government,
That children not yet born will in angst grieve.
Current Christ mind is,
Behold, I come quickly!
But not in body,
That proud vomit-specked be.
Behold then, God comes in us quickly!
Current thinking: will be!
In That Day: when we’re in humility!
Current thinking: will be!
Search Engines: Truly Compared
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/04/09
D id you know heaven has an internet?
But it’s not like ours today!
It has its own divine search engine,
Better: in most every way!
We have Google, heaven: God’ll,
As in: what God will say,
It works in the prophetic,
Which is bad on earth today.
On earth if you Google prophetic,
You get a crazy jam,
In heaven: God’ll prophetic,
Makes sense to heaven’s plan.
Let’s take a look,
At the difference ‘tween the two,
Mankind’s wisdom,
And God’s, re: prophetic stew!
Google’ll say, The church is due for correction,
Because of hidden sin!
Pastors and preachers screwing around,
Can’t keep their privates in!
God’ll say, That’s about,
As deep as a drop,
Popular doxie,
Is the true trollup!
Oh no! Says Google prophetic,
We cannot go there!
We love our Matrix of Fat Lies,
All else we can’t bear!
God’ll say, Let’s look at that matrix,
Of trollup doxie stew,
Is there any truth of the Bible,
It doesn’t misconstrue?
Google prophetic’ll say,
Don’t touch the rapture!
It’s how we worship our fear,
And money capture!
God’ll say, To hell with fear!
Now look at your greed,
Google prophetic’ll say,
We prosper: and feed!
God’ll say, Your prosper doxie stinks,
It stinks to highest heaven!
It destroys Western Enlightenment,
With touch-not priests of leaven!
Google prophetic will then say,
At least You’ll like our prophetic jabberwocky!
God’ll come back with disgust,
Lies don’t fool wisdom in anybody!
Google prophetic will say,
Then what about chaotic emotion?
Or worship-weakness faint-praise,
Or seeker-friendly untruth potion?
God’ll say: He’s had it,
With the non-orthodox bunch,
Idiotic is,
As the idiotic hunch!
God’ll say, That’s what the prophetic mostly is,
Just trollup-doxie hunches,
‘til In That Day, of hard-truth revelation,
Known by elect bunches.
God’ll say, A few on earth,
Know that I come quickly in man!
Google prophetic says, No!
We be the rapture-supine fan!
God’ll say, Chuck rapture, chuck supine,
Chuck eternal security!
Google prophetic says, Shut up!
God, let us prophetic be!
Google prophetic says, We know best,
The church is due for correction!
We lust to correct lusty folk!
That is our true-hard erection!
God’ll say, I’ll show you correction,
Corruption everywhere!
Born of your own false doctrines,
Until In That Day you care!
Google prophetic says, Oh, we know of,
The In That Day Teachings site,
We ignore all it says, or ever will,
To us, popular: makes right!
God’ll say, One man with truth,
Is outgunned by majority?
From Moses to Jesus,
I worked each: one man his story!
Thus does heaven have an internet,
But it’s not like ours today,
It does not agree with the prophets,
On earth in corruption’s way.
Our Father, which art in heaven,
Thy will on earth be done,
Agreeing with true prophets,
First one, then ten million!
Well, can it be this outlandish?
A correction so large that only few can speak?
Problem is: It aligns with truth,
Read the Bible, and In That Day Teachings, and weep.
Weep until weeping’s over,
And see more truth!
God comes quick in such,
Healing our bruise!
The Morning Report
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/04/09
I am sergeant of my platoon,
My platoon of the corps,
We are recon rangers,
On the edges of war.
Our main job,
Peace on all fronts,
Duty’s call,
Home runs and bunts.
Now comes report,
From Doogan on patrol,
Sarge, it’s coming,
From hot to over boil!
Damn it, Doogan, what’s the cause?
Socks! he says professionally,
No, Doogan, don’t fool around!
Socks! he says: absent without leave.
Socks! A bad report!
We’re in for skirmish brutal,
Every morning comes,
Another battle royal!
Our general is a girl,
A girl just fourteen,
Cute as a button,
With anger unclean.
Satan wants her soul,
So does God,
We’re His angels,
On her job.
Sergeant Anger of the Devil,
Is now full rising up,
Her internal defenses: low,
She drinks the Devil’s cup!
She can’t find her socks this morning,
Sergeant Anger blinded her sight!
The goal for the Devil isn’t socks,
It’s adding troops for her demise!
Doogan, tell the artillery,
To bombard her with love!
Get her to put on some music,
With Father God’s love!
Command our canine corps,
To motivate her dog,
To dance around her room,
Disrupting the fog!
We’ve got fraternal forces,
We can bring from the rear,
Bring in sleepy brother,
Dragging teddy bear!
What? What Doogan?
She gave dog and brother: look-to-kill?
Send in her father,
She loves him! as most daughters will.
Oh no! Sergeant Anger,
Has blocked our ploy!
Dad is with his crying son,
Whose sister took from him joy.
Doogan, where is mom?
We need a tender touch!
Oh yes, she divorced dad,
They miss her all so much.
Doogan, I hate losing,
Not when I’m in charge!
In her tantrum over socks,
Let her see note from Aunt Marge!
Dear Little One,
This is a note from your aunt,
I do love you!
For you, I always give thank!
Your aunt now lives alone,
And I can get so depressed!
But I think of you,
To keep those spirits suppressed!
If ever you get angry,
Or me sorrowed,
We must think of us,
Friends borrowed!
Let us borrow,
Good thoughts,
Stopping evil,
Bon mots!
Doogan, it worked!
We beat the bastards,
Love conquers all,
And all disasters!
Our little one has found her socks,
Hiding in a drawer!
She’s found how to control herself,
And what we are here for.
We fight and others fight,
We fight like hell for you,
To control yourselves!
So God comes quick imbued.
Father God is really,
Everybody’s boss,
Would all to Him salute,
At the Devil’s loss!
You can beat the hell out of,
All your inner demons,
Think of me and Doogan,
And your angelic friends.
When a spirit like anger,
Begins to rise up,
Take control, stop that demon,
Empty out its cup!
The morning report now ends with me saying,
You are in charge of your own soul,
I hope you work with your sergeant angel,
And with God, to make it whole!
Woe and Carbon Offsets
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/03/09
W oe is me, I’m a televangelist,
That bought carbon offsets,
For my fleet of ego-bling,
Gold-plated mission jets!
I sell indulgences,
Like Catholics of old,
Only I’m more brazen,
You’ve got to be bold!
I sell sheep give-to-get,
What a game!
Me: rich! From beggars yet,
In God’s name!
But the money I spent,
To offset guilt: Wasted!
Global warming crooks,
Cooked books: I’m out-basted!
Here I con others,
That I fly without guilt,
Offsets now a lie,
With my cash, what’ve they built?
Oh, the irony!
Oh the shame!
A conn’er conned,
In God’s name!
Mystic Tyrants Are What They Do!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/03/09
P eople are fallen by nature,
And inclined to fall,
This Enlightenment tells us,
To stop the worst of all.
And what is the worst of all?
Why, it’s always mystic tyranny!
Always illogical mystic tyranny,
Keeps mankind from being truly free!
And who are mystic tyrants?
They are the look-good-are-bad,
Who, by trickery, circumvent thought,
To get and hold power: to be mad!
Always we must believe give-to-get,
From the look-good-are-bad ,
They are at the top of getting: glad!
We at the bottom of giving: sad!
For our own good we give-to-get,
Mystic tyrants always misconstrue!
Whether preacher, king or teacher,
Mystic tyrants are what they do!
Do they demand no question,
Ever be asked?
That’s a mystic tyrant,
Your neck he’ll ax!
Do they avoid critical reasoning?
Watch out there, buddy!
They’ll make give-to-get crystal clear,
When it is muddy.
Vote with your feet, partner,
Vote with your wallet,
The way to stop tyrants,
Leave and close pocket.
That hits mystic tyrants,
Like a sniper,
Leave and don’t pay ‘em,
They’ll wet diaper!
People are fallen by nature,
And inclined to fall,
This Enlightenment tells us,
To stop the worst of all.
God’s Angelic Robot Crawler
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/01/09
M an invented the internet,
And man invented blogs,
But God created a crawler,
That beats all the odds!
This crawling angel robot,
Searches the internet for sites,
Which sell wares to pastors,
Enhancing matrix antichrists.
God hates this matrix plenty,
That confuses Christians,
With wiles sold by many,
For indulgence-paid sins.
This crawling angel robot,
Sniffs out bad blogs and books,
And discerns if the participants,
Are deceived Christian crooks!
If so, then the robot,
Dispatches one hundred eighty angels,
To destroy the wile-sellers’,
Past, present and future: from all angles!
Beware, oh deceivers,
Deceivers selling wiles,
To matrix-indulgence sellers,
Behold: coming trials!
Four Coins in Heaven’s Store
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 12/01/09
A n angel from heaven visited me,
To tell me something more,
The angel from heaven told me,
Of coins in heaven’s store!
Each person on earth, he told me,
Can get four coins stored in heaven!
Or, he said, the reverse is true,
Four coins can be in hell’s leaven!
The first gold coin of heaven,
He said, is called the Gift of Life,
The front: Strength and Courage,
The back: Peace in earthly strife.
The first bad coin of hell,
He said, is called the Curse of Death,
The front: Fear; the back: Greed,
Both: the cause of murder, more or less.
The second coin of heaven,
Is called Liberty,
Front is named Equality,
Back: Opportunity.
Treat others with no prejudice,
Life and our God too,
And you’ll have Opportunity,
And little to rue.
The second coin of hell,
Is called Slavery,
Front is named Advantage,
Back is Knavery.
Use unfair advantage,
Against fellow man,
You become enslaved,
Unequal than.
Third coin of heaven: Happiness,
Front: Significant Clout,
Back refers to your work in day,
Push, oh push: Frontiers Out!
Third coin of hell: Sadness,
Front: Insignificant Waste,
Back refers to your work in day,
Don’t push out: Hell’s Gates!
Fourth coin of heaven,
Is rather odd,
Front says: God in Man,
Back: Man in God.
Fourth coin of hell,
Hard to relate,
Both sides each say,
Desolate.
Now there are exceptions,
The angel told me,
To every rule, so don’t,
Bind me as a fool.
Oh man, work for coins,
That moth nor rust nor thief can steal!
These coins of heaven,
And hell are entirely real!
Heaven’s four coins are mentioned,
In America’s Declaration of Independence,
Learn and earn them, oh humans,
And with us angels and God on earth you shall dance!
Life, Liberty, Happiness,
And Indwelling,
Is what God is always,
Telling, selling.
Death, Slavery, Sadness,
And Desolation,
Is what Satan imbues,
In God’s creation.
What will you be buying?
The angel asked me,
It had better be what,
Sets man and God free!
Life, Liberty, Happiness,
And Indwelling,
Is what God is always,
Telling, selling.
Death, Slavery, Sadness,
And Desolation,
Is what Satan imbues,
In God’s creation.
What will you be buying?
Twice the angel asked me,
It had better be what,
Quick: sets man and God free!
Life, Liberty, Happiness,
And Indwelling,
Is what God is always,
Telling, selling.
Death, Slavery, Sadness,
And Desolation,
Is what Satan imbues,
In God’s creation.
What will you be buying?
Thrice, the angel asked me,
It had better be what,
Quick: sets man and God free!
Christian Broadcast Matrix Makers Unite!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/30/09
C hristian Broadcast Matrix Makers unite!
And choose yourselves this day,
To repent of epic shenanigans,
Or blow the thought away.
If you think your matrix witchcraft,
Can bring your ignorant-taught to enlightenment heaven,
Then you believe what never can be,
And you believe what never is and never once has been.
Deceivers making the deceived,
Cast no true light,
Wrong is always wrong,
And never right.
Repent, matrix makers,
Before it is too late,
You’re famous for lies,
Now unmake your fate.
Release your millions,
Of deceived souls,
Heaven can reverse,
Your charred roles.
Now teach the world,
How your shenanigans worked!
Redeem freedom,
Your wicked wiles then besmirched!
Sheep then seeing,
Wolves for the first time!
You can free them,
From future grind!
Matrix makers of religion,
You served the world poorly,
Entrapping sheep to wiles,
They needed to see sorely!
Wiles of business, politics and media,
You pioneered to enslave,
Now you will expose to audiences,
So none again ever be knave.
Oh, matrix makers,
Stop it, you Christian fools!
No glory to dung,
Be infilled, God-bearing jewels!
But now you are neither,
God-bearing nor jewels,
You glorify dung piled high,
As Satan’s best own tools.
Except for God’s help,
Even the elect would not see,
But we do! Now you,
Must repent and set yourselves free.
11/30/2009
The Popular, Christian Deceivers’ Motto
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/30/09
W estern Enlightenment’s reasoning teaches,
To love one’s nation, but be suspicious!
Be ever suspicious of one’s government,
Because of our bad nature’s worst wishes!
Governments govern at behest of governed,
All rights flow from nature’s rights of people,
And three-part government limits powers,
That government not tyrannize sheeple.
If this is so, and it of course is,
Why does popular post-Enlightenment narcissism make,
Christian broadcast untouchable?
We love God, but can’t suspect preachers: of logos rape?
Clerical tyranny,
Is not unknown in history!
Mystic tyranny,
Of any source: makes human misery!
Bad doxie money-mining,
Has billions retrieved,
Even if it is not true,
It is well conceived.
Se non e vero,
E ben trovato,
Them that got, shall get,
The deceiver’s motto.
Take prophetic jabberwocky,
Take worship of supine weakness,
Take rapture’s fear,
Or prosperity greediness.
Take don’t-touch-God’s-puerile leader,
Take inane mantras unquestioned repeated,
Take earth-wide full corruption,
Not ferreted out by preachers, but throne-seated!
Take blind-to-critical-thought preachers,
Leading blind-to-critical-thought sheep,
And you get a world of confusion,
Only Satan and his minions can keep.
Take how hard it is to,
Read and honor the author of this poem,
Thank God you see better!
As for blind leaders: nothing we owe them!
But the Christian deceivers,
They say, You owe them all!
I say you owe me nothing,
But to pray for their fall.
The Christian broadcast deceivers,
Say, Do not wake up from their matrix!
Only they interpret scripture,
Submit! Let them be: dominatrix!
They say, Let them be: dominatrix,
Love them and their trollup doxie!
They bet: They can’t be disempowered,
To laugh them naked: takes moxie!
They bet: We don’t have moxie,
We who are not deceived,
They deceive unchallenged,
While the seers are grieved.
The seers are grieved,
But see God’s solutions,
Behold: God comes quickly,
In non-deceived humans!
Just remove pride and prejudice,
From corrupted deceivers,
And salute God in true-taught men,
Flowing in God’s great rivers!
God, Set Us Free!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/27/09
I saw a generation wayward,
That generation was mine,
The next generation I saw,
I thought: could be divine!
Despite my praying, my patience,
My screaming red-faced,
This generation wanted to be,
Well, not yet God-graced.
No, I’m not talking generally,
Not the whole of masses,
I’m talking of whom I know,
Certain lads and lasses.
Rebels without a cause,
Except to self-destruct,
Until finally awakened,
And their lives reconstruct.
As I did,
In middle life,
Grieving o’er,
Debacles of strife.
Why awaken me,
To see the next generation lost?
How to save us,
God of mercy, what is the cost?
You invented family,
Satan brings it destruction,
You awaken a few,
Where fabled restoration?
Is it in adoption,
With invisible ties,
To the seeking,
Hungry to God-imbibe?
It’s lovely to raise up,
Adopted-in-spirit sons and daughters,
But how to turn off,
Our seed’s baptism in murky waters?
You are a God of justice and good-heart,
I will believe in no other,
Save our families, oh Lord, with the,
Love of Jesus, our brother.
Did Jesus die,
And I die as well,
That Satan feast,
On familial hell?
I behold thin loved ones with Satan’s minions attached,
Gorged: hideously fat,
Alone in my home weeping, praying in my bathtub,
I scream my voice flat.
Something wrong with your throat, son?
You’re hoarse! My mother tells me.
It’s nothing, mom, I brazenly lie,
Hoping God heard: God, set us free!
Years come, years pass,
Decades, too,
Some progress, but,
Too much rue!
Give me one kin, oh Lord,
In which to fully, completely partner,
Our family shall be praised,
For the love of God and art in her!
This not too much to ask,
For a too-proud family,
With little to brag one,
Until all are free.
Zombie Ogres and Orgs Compared
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/24/09
L isten now my sons,
Though the wind does howl!
As the embers burn,
Hear the truth in my jowl!
There are zombies!
And there are zombies not!
Learn the difference,
Eh, now! My blood runs hot!
The Zombie Ogre,
Of him: do not be afraid,
Made up he is!
He can carry no blade!
But the Zombie Org,
My GOD! Run for the hills!
How on earth can we,
Pay! Pay Zombie Org bills?
Zombie Orgs on Wall Street,
Have crashed all the jobs!
Zombie Orgs in government,
Are run by idiot nabobs!
Zombie Orgs in religion,
Say, again: Pay, pay, pay!
Son, see a Zombie Org,
Pray for feet! Run away!
You can’t kill a Zombie Org,
It only kills others,
Run from Zombie Orgs, hoping,
Others it bothers!
And keep your mouth shut,
They’re excellent at vexing,
All on earth who won’t kowtow,
And be Zombie Org blessing.
Don’t tell your neighbor,
We, as a family, hate what’s wrong!
Zombie Orgs have allegiance,
Neighbors will say: You don’t belong!
If there’s confusion,
Just say you hate the mythical Zombie Ogres!
Then there will be peace,
You will have won over Zombie-Org-lovers!
Until In That Day when,
Truth, love and purely honest justice reigns,
Zombie Orgs make it sure,
Wormwood and gall are all that remains.
God, how I hate Zombie Orgs!
How I love ogres in stories of legend and lore!
Stories tell us to be brave warriors,
And fight evil, even in an ogre, until it is no more!
Yes, son, run now,
From every evil bunch,
One day we’ll stand,
That is my hunch.
Eh sons! Let this campfire before us,
Burning hot-spectral in the coals now die,
Pledge! We keep swords of truth: sharp!
Love for man: warm! And powder: dry!
Tie Me Up Until Denouement!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/23/09
T ie me up until the great, awaited, hoped for denouement,
And then I’ll be free!
Tie me up and have your popular, broadcast Christian way,
Until I can see!
The first shackle: the rapture,
Causing fear and laziness,
Second: eternal security,
Causing supine craziness.
Tie me with prophetic jabberwocky,
Those are real good binds!
None on earth and not even God,
Can follow their minds!
Tie me with seeker-friendly-truth-avoidance,
Then I can be a fun beast!
Seeker-friendly allows all abominations,
No complaints in the least!
Tie me up and rope me up,
Tight bind me ever more!
Prosperity! Yeah, baby!
Now that is a whore!
Prosperity preachers receive their monies: so saintly,
While we buy a foul, greedy lie,
That give-to-get isn’t a big self-serving Ponzi scheme,
Like a shoplifter’s alibi!
Tie me, bind me, fill me,
With total nonsense!
Wrap me with mojo-emotion,
Any evil pretense!
Or just plain old do-nothing-worship-weakness,
And old-fashioned truth-avoidance,
I can be propagandized: any bad thing,
In obsequies compliance!
Bind me up even more,
And choke-tie me bound down!
I might be God-bearing,
And bring heaven around!
Tie me with tithes and endless tax-and-spend fees,
Tie me with sailing ship anchor-chains of great guilt,
Tie me with uncritical thought immersion,
It’s how empires of blind-leading-the-blind are built!
Empires of emotional insanity,
Built on foundations of sand,
Built by cruelly tying me up,
Your shackled Christian man.
I’m a full-bound-up man,
Tied until denouement,
Blinkered until In That Day,
A day of improvement.
A day when God must manifest,
In unbound-by-wrong-doxie persons,
A day when rapture and the rest,
Are cut off by orthodox conversions.
Tied up until denouement,
Then free-in-God at last!
No limit to God manifesting,
When bad doctrines are axed!
The free Christian so happy,
To be, hurrah! God-indwelt!
Will find it odd that for so long,
Ties were what believers felt!
Ties make prisoners,
Prisoners of thought,
Get free, oh captives,
From what we’ve bought.
We’ve bought lies as Christians,
Antithetical to indwelling!
Now, In That Day: Denouement,
We buy freedom that God is selling!
Oh denouement, oh denouement!
Hallelu!
Cut loose lie-ties, and God lives in,
Me and you!
Oh freed one, oh freed one,
Cry not for what freedom has cost!
Help others, help others,
Tied up in insouciance : still lost!
Yes, people will cry when denouement comes,
Narrowly avoiding hell,
We’ll all cry big tears of happy sadness,
In That Day, we’ll wail.
A Leaf in a Stream
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/22/09
I saw God this morning,
In the stream behind my house!
He was in a submerged red leaf,
So beautiful, in my stream of wows!
I’ve seen ten-thousand dollar coffee tables,
That capture: under glass a stream,
With Fall-colored leaves and fish,
Like this morning’s captured dream.
If I’m humble and quiet,
I see and love God in everything!
My neighbors walk by,
I hope they see God in my stream!
My coffee table is just a coffee table,
My stream is just a stream,
Am I crazy or am I sane,
For seeing God in everything?
There are I-above-all-other-I’s,
That see no God, no how in anything,
They hold no fish, no leaves, no water,
These coffee-less think themselves: everything.
How can the quiet, humbled, God-imbued,
Survive the ego leviathans of id?
The I-AM-in’s can’t fight the I-above-all-I’s,
No, the I-AM-in’s must remain hid.
The I-AM-in’s remain hid,
Until needed,
Thus will Satan’s dominion,
Be unseated.
A leaf in a stream saw God,
In a man today,
They winked at each other,
Then drifted away.
Necessarily Incommunicable
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/21/09
W hat if there’s no wait,
No rapture, no imminent coming,
Of Jesus, the man,
Our Savior, the One becoming.
Jesus, the One becoming,
In me and you!
No more can people,
Misconstrue!
Misconstruing for decades,
Who comes when,
Making what is ever now,
Never been.
Lights of multitudes of souls extinguished,
With candle snuffers,
By the not self-evident conductors,
But preacher buffers.
Preachers for centuries and even now,
Delay In That Day ,
Of God beheld quick in us: for shame,
By their wrong say.
So many prophets of tomorrow,
Today, without a clue,
Preach weird ink-blot cards of tarot,
Within, they’re un-imbued.
Inside: the wrong prophets,
The wrong prophets of tomorrow,
Have no God in them,
Just cash in, out sorrow.
But maybe it’s all on purpose,
Necessarily incommunicable,
The creative of God see well,
Others dine blind at Satan’s table.
Not knowing what spirit they’re of,
They preach splendiferous witchcraft loud and long,
Not seeing their own proud weakness,
While the seeing, God-imbued, unseen: move on.
Necessarily incommunicable,
In That Day ,
God-in-you unnoticed, the rest: on hubris,
Holiday.
Explaining the Goals of In That Day Teachings
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/21/09
Evil spirits inhabit and manifest in souls which believe wrong doctrines.
Good spirits inhabit and manifest in souls which believe true doctrines.
The spirits do this by legal right, rights given to them to inhabit and manifest souls according to each doctrine believed.
Thus, inhabitation and manifestation of spirits are controlled by doctrines believed and lived.
To change the inhabitation and manifestation of spirits, one must at the bottom of it, change doctrines believed.
Satan a) wants to manifest himself in every man, woman, child and, in fact, all creation, b) preferring souls with evil spirits that are c) strong, d) numerous and e) well-established.
Jesus a) wants to manifest Himself in every man, woman, child and, in fact, all creation, b) preferring souls with good spirits that are c) strong, d) numerous and e) well-established.
The goal of In That Day Teachings is that Jesus be able to manifest Himself in creation, to bring heaven to earth according to Matthew 6:10’s will of the Father, through John 14:20’s triune transcendent indwelling in mankind and through Revelation 22’s seeing and honoring Jesus come quickly in each other, a process that requires utmost humility.
…………………………………………………………………….
By spirits universally witnessed with spiritual eyes to see, the escapist doctrines of rapture, prosperity, jabberwocky prophetic, mojo-emotion, intellectual dry-bones, seeker-friendly-truth-avoidance-rip-you-up and other flimflam self-interested schemes of religious promoters are self evident lies that oft promulgate doctrines of the Devil, and the Devil’s indwelling and the Devil’s subsequent pride and blindness. Further problems are rigid righteousness (Job chapters 1-41), being rule-bound and lack of humility to honor the humble good and God indwelt, but rather leviathan pride’s persecution of all things God-imbued.
By spirits universally witnessed with spiritual eyes to see, the non-escapist doctrines of orthodox belief, along with In That Day Teachings’ adherence to holy flexibility (Job chapter 42), exceptions to rules, and honor to the humble-good and God-indwelt are self evident truths that oft promote doctrines of Father God, the indwelling of Jesus and the beatitude-blessings of humility and sight. Included with this is persecution of the blessed holy-flexible by the rigid, blind and empowered-ignorant of Job 41’s leviathan pride.
…………………………………………………………………….
In That Day is simply a time come to earth when a significantly higher amount of people achieve significant sight and indwelling of God, resulting in a much more profound heaven come to earth.
At the same time, however, the opposite also occurs. More evil people achieve significant blindness and indwelling of Satan, resulting in a much more profound hell come to earth.
This is In that Day: A time both evil, very evil; and good, very good indeed. It is therefore a time of necessary and hard separation.
The wheat shall be worthy wheat: worthy to be presented by God’s angels into the storage places of truth: God’s favor of overcoming trials, empowerment and imbuing. The tares shall richly deserve to be burned in fire: the places reserved for the proud, blind and selfish hurters of others.
Truly, truly In That Day is an awesome time in which to live in God!
…………………………………………………………………….
Again, God’s abiding happens by doctrines believed. Believe and live true doctrines, and God can choose to increase His sight and bearing in you. Believe wrong doctrines and Satan can chose to increase his blindness and bearing in you. Thus, true doctrine is the cornerstone for all good and God abiding in you.
Bless Them All, In That Day!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/20/09
B less my neighbors,
That persecute me,
Bless my family,
That does not see.
Bless myself,
Where I am still blind,
That I see,
Not be left behind.
Not left behind in rapture,
For rapture is full well a lie!
But left in blindness,
Not fighting right in wrongness ‘til I die!
No, let me see right,
As You give me sight to see,
That I help others,
Through dream, through reveal: to be.
To be good,
Takes revolutionary sight!
The god-born,
Misconstrued wrong, yet at end: right!
Further mysterious,
Is this truth,
Best truths: unspoken,
Words: no use.
Best, highest, most hidden truths,
Found in parable,
In poem, given spirit-to-deep-spirit,
Words unable.
In That Day ,
Enlightenment best understood,
With words, yes,
But much more beyond words’ good!
Beyond the beyond,
Where is Father’s will,
Understood by some,
In That Day: more fill.
More shall fill up,
At endless well,
Living waters,
In That Day: tell.
An Advanced Degree in Thinking
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 3/21/09
What I needed was a retarded,
Oops! I mean, advanced degree in thinking,
So I immersed myself in fantastic,
Oops! I mean, enlightened Christian preaching.
Me and tens of millions of deceived,
Oops! I mean, genius Christians did this,
So on elections we would be fooled,
Oops! I mean, ruled without prejudice.
We also learned when fleeced how to stop it,
Oops! I mean, to not touch God’s own anointed,
So when voting for US President our trance,
Oops! I mean, our spirit picked the one appointed.
I just thank God for my education from antichrist,
Oops! I mean Christian broadcasting,
I’m happy, no honored , to send money to them,
Oops! I mean to employees governing.
People who don’t understand my compliance, I hate,
Oops! I mean, I kindly, compassionately tolerate,
Who cares? Our leaders from pulpit to capitol devour,
Oops! I mean, have our best interests at stake.
My pulpit and political leaders fly high in their hubris,
Oops! I mean, wonderful executive jets,
My pulpit and political leaders are selfish cannibals,
Oops! I mean, selfless workers for my best!
Christian Broadcast has made me profoundly un-American,
Oops! I mean, the perfect patriot,
When demagogues speak and do evil, I’m so deaf and blind,
Oops! I mean, I’ll agree to whatnot.
My friends say my brain is full of twisted propaganda,
Oops! I mean so Christ-like and Christ-emanating,
They see the doctrines I was immersed uncritically in,
Oops! They’re now arrested, due for terminating.
Behold, Jesus is now in my refined soul quickly coming!
Oops! I mean I’ll soon be raptured,
I’m not lazy, but it’s fun to watch evil in my soul grow!
Oops! Which god has me captured?
Some Cons are Blessed
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/18/09
T here is a con,
Under the sun,
To look for,
A wonder one.
They come on strong,
They come on wrong,
But before too long,
They, well, belong!
They belong to truth,
God-bearers they be,
They sneak undetected,
To make heart free.
Wonder ones smoking, drinking,
Breaking the rules,
But by their big hearts proving,
Posers as fools.
The curmudgeon miser,
Who isn’t really!
The unbigoted bigot,
Who is free!
Wonder ones are free,
And in their freedom,
Bipolar champions,
Fooling the blind-dumb.
Mocking evil,
They bumble and stumble overt mission,
Being good,
They manifest Christ in covert position.
Oft they can’t tell you,
Who they are,
They don’t know themselves,
Dust of star.
They are outside: ugly,
Inside: pretty!
Outside: imprisoned,
Inside: heart-free!
They, the wonder ones,
Just know what for them works,
Secretly, they’re good,
But on top of things, jerks.
No, they are not bad,
They are, above all, humble,
Causing non-seers,
To discount and stumble.
Don’t stumble on a rare,
Beautiful wonder one,
Bless them; man, woman,
And you might also become.
Blessed are the wonder ones,
Hiding deep good in thin evil crust,
Watch them in action,
Most every time good: won, evil: bust.
If it won’t,
Ruin their ploy,
Tell them, please ,
They are such joy!
Bottom line:
Why are they so odd?
Wonder ones,
How they bring out God!
I Am a Monkey
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/18/09
“I was made merely in the image of God,
but not otherwise resembling Him enough to be
mistaken for Him by anybody but a very near-
sighted person… I believe that our heavenly
Father invented man because he was
disappointed in the monkey.”
– Mark Twain
W oe is me,
I am a monkey,
Eyes to see,
In misery.
I see God,
Where others can’t,
And I go,
Where others shan’t.
Twain said he told lies,
So he could tell the truth,
I say look at deception!
Others then me forsooth!
Perhaps I should say I lie,
So that others listen,
Twain manifested Christ,
Humor his glisten.
I am a monkey,
Because I see,
In That Day we all,
Can be free.
Better Late Than Never
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 8/11/09
O nce a boy dreamed that,
That he could,
He could grow to be a man,
All he should.
It happened at fifty,
Or was it sixty?
But it wasn’t twenty,
It wasn’t timely.
The world didn’t want,
To forgive him for that,
But at least he grew up,
And grew into his hat.
But the part the world,
Didn’t forgive,
Was growing up. It wanted,
Him kept naïve.
Some suspected,
God lived inside this man,
The rest held that,
He was reprobate, a sham.
It didn’t bother,
The man too much,
It was the cost,
To lose the crutch.
Happiness Found (Part III)
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/16/09
C aptain Lucinda Hope Bother of Reality,
This is Vice Admiral Sam Intrepid of Submission,
Meet me and my ship in Outer More,
It’s urgent, it’s secret: your signed, sealed mission.
I left off my search for Happiness,
And my evil black sheep brother,
Sam Intrepid is handsome, right smart,
I’d be with him as with other.
Upon arrival I was debriefed,
And my, what a shock!
My brother had sold my hand for gold,
To Sam for wedlock!
We had joined our ships as one,
To increase our might,
Sam Intrepid’s gold to brother,
He thought had made right.
Hell hath no fury,
As a scorned lady,
That’s nothing to,
Me and deals shady.
Then, once again, came trouble,
From moon ships of the All Channel!
As we prepared for fight or flight,
My brother waved: Lu, all is well!
Escort the All Channel moon ships,
To my hideout on the outermost planet,
I’m making gold-of-gold clandestine,
Can you and Sam Intrepid manage?
It took us months, linked ship to ship,
To escort the All Channel beast brigade,
They have dog faces, run in thousand-packs,
And they howl and wail night and day.
Sam Intrepid, over dinner, told me,
About All Channels every night,
He said the ancient dogs know too much,
Knowing too much has been their blight.
Not happy with simple truths,
Like inalienable rights of happiness, liberty and life,
They absorb worlds and worlds,
Thinking infinite knowledge makes infinite right.
In truth, I am in love with Sam,
He’s so much like my brother,
The both are treasonous as hell,
Each would make good lover.
Sam knows my past,
Full of violence, shame and fight,
It doesn’t bother him,
Somehow he makes me feel light.
Finally, we reached the outermost planet,
All Channel mad dogs in tow,
William Faith Bother beamed us,
Wearing top hat don’t you know.
Before you scream at me sister,
See what I have done,
With gold from Inner Core and Sam,
Gold-of-gold I’ve grown!
William, we’ll kill you before,
You drink it or sell it to the dogs!
Sister, Samuel: hold off just yet,
Light, sweet light will clear the fogs.
Our All Channel friends howl,
Because too much knowledge hurt their brains,
Knowledge without wisdom,
Kills and rots all gains.
Whereas gold-on-gold drunk by us,
Gives us powers of the gods,
Gold-on-gold drunk by All Channels,
Returns them to wise dogs.
And so the All Channels,
Drank my brother’s gold-of-gold,
The space dogs now are our brothers,
The best alien friends, if truth be told.
And me, I did marry,
Vice Admiral Sam Intrepid of Submission,
We and our ships are one,
Perfect Union, its new name and commission.
Brother William Faith Bother,
Received the Medal of Honor from the Alliance,
And was knighted by the dogs,
And true to word, wore top hat at wedding dance.
God willing, I’ll give Sam,
Daughters and sons,
We’ll teach them more,
Than rights and wrongs.
We’ll teach the sons and daughters of tomorrow,
With Uncle William Faith’s help,
Happiness, liberty and life’s finite limits,
Beyond which we should reject.
We stand on shoulders of giants,
Giants of true happiness,
We can teach multitudes this thing,
That most is found in less.
In family, in love,
In life, liberty and greatest mortal happiness,
Is in wisdom’s limits,
Out in space and at home: most is found in less.
No power in the universe,
Beats the power of simple truthing,
With self-evident truths,
You cannot happiness be losing.
Listen: sons of liberty, daughters of freedom,
This is Hope speaking,
Conquer space dragons or inner demons,
Love is worth keeping.
There is no limit to love,
With liberty’s dedication to mutual self-restraint,
My brother’s love conquered,
One hundred worlds. Don’t ever think: You can’t!
You can find Life, you can find Liberty,
You can find true Happiness,
Find and keep what the Founders knew,
Nothing more, nothing less.
Nothing more, nothing less,
Do you get it?
Promulgate that freedom,
And beget it.
The Search for Happiness (Part II)
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/16/09
I ’m on the search for Happiness,
Happiness and my brother,
The Alliance wants them gone,
One way or the other.
The government pulled my ship Reality,
From the outer planet belt,
To the Inner Core of Wonders,
Where the gold-of-gold is melt.
Gold from our one hundred planets,
And from stars beyond,
Is brought to the Inner Core of Wonders,
To make gold-of-gold profound.
It’s why the United Planet Alliance,
Takes so much give-to-get funding,
It’s to buy gold to make gold-of-gold,
Gold, not Happiness, we’re hunting.
My mission is to protect,
The Inner Core of Wonders,
An incoming gold revet,
Precious gold-of-gold renders!
Captain Lucinda Hope Bother, they said,
Welcome to the Inner Core of Enlightenment,
We’ve picked you to drink gold-of-gold,
Enlarge all good in you, be not frightened.
Thus the Inner Core Council,
Surprised my being,
To give me precious gold-of-gold,
To have me all seeing!
Gold-of-gold gives powers of god,
All wise, all seeing, all knowing,
Maybe this is true happiness,
With gold-of-gold I’ll be growing!
But know this, dearest captain,
The Chancellor of Enlightenment said to me,
With gold-of-gold: no children,
You’ll be sterile, happy, child-free.
I thought back to my confession,
I gave in my brother’s court,
I told him I had had three sons,
Each one I did abort.
Bill told me I didn’t hate him,
It was my role in life I despised,
Captain of Reality,
Wrong fighting right, was how he surmised.
I’ll drink the gold-of-gold,
But show me first where it is melt,
All my life I’ve gone high,
I must feel how queens have felt!
From my spaceship Reality, in orbit,
I beamed down to the Inner Core,
Damn it, damn it, damn it: my brother,
Surprised me with something more!
I was beamed on his ship: Happiness,
He beamed, dressed like me, on mine,
Both ships blasted to the outer planets,
And left the Inner Core behind.
I was so mad I could spit,
But they turned on monitors I could see,
The relentless All Channel moon ships,
Devouring the Inner Core to black history.
Once safe and out of danger,
We captains beamed back into position,
Me in Reality, Bill in Happiness,
I screamed at him in exasperation.
Bill, don’t run away!
You can see in this video link I need you,
No you don’t! he said,
You wanted gold-of-gold. You are a fool.
I’ll find you brother,
I’ll kill you or else you’ll kill me,
You won’t find me, Lu,
I stole enough gold to be free.
We’re a family here in Happiness,
Lucinda, you think about that,
I will come to your wedding,
As Uncle Bill in top hat.
You’re talking crazy, brother,
Am I? Am I Lucy Hope?
Find yourself a husband, Sis,
Dead straight I make no joke.
Where art thou, oh brother,
You’ve turned off the signal,
Keep Happiness alive,
Search for you I will.
You cut me like a knife,
You vaguely mention my lost sons,
I’ll kill you, you kill me,
My search for Happiness has begun.
You mock me that I could,
Somehow begin anew,
You’ll learn from me vengeance,
I am telling you.
I spit on your love!
I spit on your Happiness!
You will wish you killed me,
And never gave me grace!
You tricked me with your Happiness,
You tricked me with love,
To hell with your ship of fools,
I’ll reign terror from above.
I’m on the search for Happiness,
Happiness and my brother,
The Alliance wants them gone,
One way or the other.
In Pursuit of Happiness (Part I)
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/16/09
D amn that spaceship captain!
Damn that ship of twenty!
I have fought tougher men,
But can’t remember any.
Orbiting the warm planet Pleasure,
We caught his poorly named first ship: Life,
While he and crew took planet’s measure,
My ship Reality gave Life strife.
How his crew on planet escaped us,
Is a mystery to me,
Then after I blew up Liberty,
He’s captain of his ship three.
He won’t accept Reality,
He won’t accept our great largess,
He denies our compromise overtures,
This captain of ship three: Happiness.
Happiness is the reason for our existence,
We of Reality are authorized to blow it to hell,
But it is so small and independent and agile,
It escapes us; it seems to know us well.
The captain’s name is William Faith,
He has besmirched his last name Bother,
My name is Captain Lucinda Hope,
I’m his sister, he’s my brother.
The Reality has four hundred souls onboard,
If I have not now just lost fifty,
We just had another confusing space battle,
With Happiness: costing us plenty.
In the midst of explosions, energy beams,
Tractor pulls and cloaking devices,
Happiness disappeared from our sights,
I dread to report this to my admiral vices.
Why do I fight Happiness?
It’s the United Planet Alliance decree,
Pay tribute, or give-to-get good,
As long as you give us that, we are agreed.
Our fleet of ships like Reality,
Keep our one hundred planets ruled well,
Except for little bugs like Happiness,
That incite the outer planets to rebel.
Our United Planet Alliance is benevolent,
Well-ordered in religion, news and business,
As one government we say give-to-get ,
If you give-to-get , you’ll have full bliss!
So citizens of the Alliance, must therefore,
Give-to-get,
Give all, get all! No better plan for man discovered,
No, not yet!
What’s this my underlings tell me?
Happiness has been discovered,
Clinging, cloaked on Reality’s underside,
In battle debris covered?
Bring William Faith Bother to me,
And his nineteen crew!
In martial space court and conviction,
And death chambers they are due!
Sister Lulu! You’re looking great!
My brother said to me,
A first class, sexy dominatrix,
As all can full well see!
Shut up, brother William,
You’re nothing to this court!
You’re like my three sons,
For this job I did abort.
Good God! Lucinda!
You’ve sold your soul!
You don’t hate me,
You hate your fate’s role!
I love my job as captain of Reality,
I see things as they are,
You and your ships see things as they could be,
You’re stuck on same bad star.
Interruptions? What?
What’s happening now?
The relentless All Channels,
Have captured us? How?
An All Channel ship,
As big as the biggest moon,
Has locked on to us,
Brother, we are doomed!
Have faith, dear ol’ Sis,
With your bombs and beams make a diversion bursting,
In battle’s confusion,
Nimbly put Reality on moon ship’s undergirding!
So, we eventually escaped,
And I had to let Happiness go,
Bill talked of Life and Liberty,
And not being forced to give-to-get . So,
Now my Reality is more open minded,
As I blast about space,
Maybe coercive give-to-getting is bad doxie,
There’s hope for our race.
How I hated my brother,
How he loves me so,
How wrong I think I might be,
What does Happiness know?
What is there to know,
About Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness?
It was politic religion,
What did those Founders know of which we guess?
How I have hated Life,
Hated Liberty and hated Happiness,
Now that my Reality is checked,
I hope I become what I hated: next.
Reality has become a prison for me,
Bill showed me coercive giving is slavery of thought,
Life, Liberty and Happiness,
Haunt me until, I think, Reality becomes what it ought.
What is there about this thing Happiness?
I need to know,
Where is my brother? And Happiness?
There I must go.
Happiness has freedom,
Freedom I have not,
Happiness has family,
Family I’ve forgot.
My brother loves mankind’s family,
And embraces its increase,
Give-to-get manages man’s limits,
And embraces man’s decrease.
As captain of Reality, I thought I,
Kept bad ideas from hurting our universe,
My captain brother’s love, Happiness,
Liberty and Life showed me I made it worse.
Tell me more about this thing Happiness,
I need to grow,
Where is my brother? And Happiness?
There I must go.
Pride destroys love and Happiness,
This I know,
To my brother and Happiness,
I will go.
11/15/2009
Colossal Triumphs Overturned
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/15/09
W e didn’t start out to be giants,
But that’s who we are,
We didn’t despise small beginnings,
Somehow, we went far.
Now we stand shoulder to shoulder,
Carrying too much to bear,
Who do we carry? You!
And you don’t seem to care.
We wrote the songs,
We wrote the books,
The constitutions,
All, if you’d look!
But you’re busy depositing,
What you shouldn’t on our heads,
No, it’s not flowers we smell,
As you besmirch your beds.
You sleep with trollup doxies,
And call evil good,
We gave all not for proxies,
Or to make you lewd.
You have it precisely backwards,
As you stand on our shoulders,
You don’t know we can shake you off,
Your strange fire kindles embers.
Though saintly,
We weren’t always saints!
We forgive,
Change color of your paints!
You have succeeded only in,
Our triumphs overturned,
See, weep, repent and then return!
Not too late, your turn earned.
You can earn your place,
In the hall of giants,
Lose the rotten doctrines,
I AM is, stop it: ain’ts.
The I AM called us in our day,
And we gave our best,
So far you have refused His call,
Your pride beats the rest.
As leviathan of Job’s day,
Your pride reaches heaven,
Brittle, we let God full break us,
We grew by losing leaven.
Our mission now,
Is not to uphold leviathans of pride,
Beware: Misled,
You’ve reached the limit of our ride.
You stand on our shoulders,
Letting dung fall,
One day we must shake you off,
And you will fall.
You can fool yourselves and others,
But you can’t con giants of history,
In our day we saw miscreants,
You don’t think others on earth see?
Your unchecked monster pride,
Makes you stupid blind,
In That Day you will see,
What you now can’t find.
Hear Ye, Something New!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/14/09
H ear ye, hear ye, hear ye!
What the herald has to say,
The Day of the Lord is come,
It’s called: In That Day .
With God all things come in three,
On this we are agreed,
We have two testaments now,
A third one is in need.
What shall we call this testament,
After Old and New?
Get thyself imbued and call it,
Testament You .
First Testament of animal sacrifice,
Second of Second Adam,
Third Testament of your own sacrifice,
Spirit blood born again.
What is this Testament You?
Is it Isaiah’s new thing of God?
It’s quick-come behold: Jesus in you!
In humility, never proud.
I salute the God in you,
The You Testament has us say,
No more proud grandee funding,
Shenanigan dark logic goes away.
In God’s life, liberty and happiness,
We see saints of the past,
Pointing toward In That Day ,
God come full at last!
Can we put a finger on it,
And say, Lo here or there?
No we can’t, we’re not in charge,
Humble servants to God bear.
What if the herald,
Is a scallywag with no credentials?
As heralds before,
Old and New made You essentials.
Good God, we can’t believe it,
Something happening now!
Saints have prayed two-thousand years,
Don’t be surprised how.
Don’t be surprised the thousand pieces,
Of In That Day fit seamless,
You are part of God’s grand design,
Don’t dare believe God theme-less.
Behold In That Day,
A new thing indeed,
Grandees won’t support,
Non-support of greed.
Behold a new You Testament,
Like others: in page, poem and man,
Behold the restoration of,
All things, like when it all began.
Here ye, hear ye, hear ye!
Ignore this not,
Don’t despise small beginnings,
Or you will be forgot.
Something new has happened,
Now under the sun,
Lose lies, gain truth, love God,
Oh, indwelt one.
Read the page, read the poem,
Read your fellow man,
Salute the God in page, poem,
And hardest of all: man.
See with eyes to see,
See as do the blessed pure in heart,
God isn’t finished,
No children, this is just the start!
Jabberwocky Soul Cancer
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/12/09
I work at a metal shop,
But for a hobby, I like a good sermon,
And for the best friendship,
I turn to my buddy, Cancer Joe Herman.
Joe Herman works with me,
Cigar and cigarette he smokes carefree,
One he holds with his lips,
The other in same hand as cup of coffee.
Cancer Joe, I asked,
One fine work day,
Listen to me. Then,
I’ll hear your say.
I went to a preacher,
With a white board,
He filled it up with,
Notes from the Lord.
He drew a circle,
Then a line straight through it in half,
At top half he wrote change ,
Then bottom he wrote direction for laugh.
Joe, how he went on and on,
How first change comes, then direction!
Joe, here’s the point. Last time,
He did the same but reversed connection!
That preacher, last time, wrote direction atop circle,
And change on the bottom,
And both times he worked the audience to fury,
Both messages, I’ve forgotten!
This psychologist, a pee-h-dee, dressed blue collar chic,
As if holes in his jeans came from nail gun mistakes,
Or imagined knife fights gave him some legitimacy,
As if he’d been in West Side Story, close-call scrapes!
Cancer Joe inhaled a cigarette,
And lit another cigar,
Filled up his coffee cup,
And said, Here’s where you are.
You’re listening to jabberwocky,
From a jabberwocky expert,
He is confused and confusing,
To his own, others and your hurt.
Does your leader sound like Lincoln,
G. Washington or Mark Twain for a laugh?
No? Then stop listening to jabberwocky,
Believe me. It’ll cut your life by half!
You’re one to talk, Joe,
I said with a snit,
You smoke double time,
It’ll kill you quick!
Joe said, These lung-cancer sticks I know,
And, by God, I do love,
That preacher’s soul-cancer sticks he don’t know,
By God, ain’t come from above!
Joe squinted his eyes, inhaled smoke,
Coughed and said,
I live knowing true truth, even with bad,
Until I’m dead.
Punch out some more metal, son, bend it,
And drill some more holes,
Thank God we get paid for good metal works,
Not selling lost souls.
Joe said, Yes son, I smoke and drink,
At the town bar called Truth and Malarky,
But my kind is true to things,
And we don’t tolerate jabberwocky.
In the smoke and the haze,
And the smell of coffee,
I shook Cancer Joe’s hand,
And said, I see!
Joe says he isn’t perfect,
But with reason and rough life, he can see!
But soft-truth purveyors,
With refinement versus reason, have impunity.
In their own blind circles,
Not the metal shop or gritty tough-love bar,
Leaders have impunity and madness,
To spread jabberwocky soul-cancer quite far.
I’ll not inhale their jabberwocky soul cancer selling,
I’ll breathe God’s breath!
Give me logic, reason and God’s quick-soul indwelling,
Or give me death!
It’s funny I found truth,
In a smoking, coffee’d up old man,
Not a whiteboard scam artist,
Conning minds not indwelt of I AM.
Does the great I AM,
Have principles more profound than change and direction?
Could be, it depends,
Which, of heaven or hell, is the I AM of connection.
God, of course, has principles,
Like tough-love men: principles a plenty,
But white board scam artists,
As soft con-jobbers: haven’t got any.
The con men might say,
It’s just soft mysticism, soft tyranny,
But that’s their blind problem,
From such softness comes: hard loss of liberty!
Conning cascades from,
Pulpit to politics to slavery,
Beware, oh pastors,
Tough people know what con men can’t see.
Let There be Light
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/12/09
I went to the Lords of Light,
To learn how to shine,
In large assemblies they told me,
Light’s deep verse and rhyme.
Shine! They told us: Shine!
Shine as it says in the Shine Book,
Only problem was,
We shined, but they hated our look.
When I shined,
Like a Thomas A. Edison light bulb,
Light Lords said,
You embarrass yourself in a great flub!
They said, Let us tell you,
What is the light,
They said, your shining,
Ruins out dark night!
We grandees of light explanations,
With our messages: reach millions every week,
We get money, travel, homes and fame,
But stop your shining, kiddo, we’ll bust your beak!
Who knows shining,
But the Lords of Light?
I stopped shining,
But it doesn’t feel right.
It’s like a giant game of smash-the-mole,
Lords of light to the shining,
Shunning, smashing, banning the light indwelt,
To keep their wrong verse rhyming.
Light is, after all, enlightenment,
And dark is darkening,
But it’s sadly reversed ‘til In That Day ,
Of true hearkening.
How can non-shining Lords of Light,
Teach what they cannot do?
They teach persona, mystic shenanigans,
Anything to misconstrue.
Woe to the little ones,
Shining from inside,
Who don’t know their light,
Is truly bona fide!
Who is light indwelt,
And who is not?
Who has fruit,
And who has rot?
Let there be light!
Light Himself is believed to have said in His Light Book,
See, oh bright ones,
A dark man can quote such, but light is seen by the look.
I Dreamt I was a Poem
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/11/09
I dreamt I was a poem,
That everybody read,
I dreamt I was a poem,
That never was dead.
The wisdom of ages,
Was put in me,
God’s highest wisdom,
And warning.
The warning: Don’t believe Darwin’s survival of fittest,
Means you can kill, eliminate or dismiss others,
The wisdom: God comes quickly in humans,
Salute, honor God in your sisters and brothers.
Say, Good on you!
I see God somehow in you living inside!
Humble yourself,
By honoring God in others, you lose pride.
You thought God was coming,
To, well, take you away?
That’s fear and the Devil,
Having his In That Day.
Choose your day,
Dark logic, escapism, fear?
Or God in you,
Reason, courage, in-spirit gear!
All spirit gear to make it,
In That Day of the Lord,
Living in God, God in you,
Have no fear, climb on board!
Earth’s calibrated,
In God’s life, liberty, and happiness,
Earth’s unbelievers,
On path to self-destruction, by themselves.
I had a dream,
I was a poem ignored,
Some eyes seeing,
By the rest: not stored.
Woe to those given hard truth,
And need it quickly forgotten,
Happy: those who love it hard,
In them: God is begotten.
Behold, I come quickly,
Thrice on the Bible’s last page,
Behold, I come quickly,
Discern this wisdom, this age.
Surely, I come quickly,
Do we have eyes to see?
What John repeated three times,
That in God we be!
The Saga of the White Hat Sheriff
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/8/09
I am a white-hat-wearing sheriff,
A no-nonsense, rule-of-law lawman,
I bring ‘em to justice, no lynchin’,
Straight shootin’ from the hip’s what I am.
How did I get so dead-sure of myself,
And knowin’ the line of my limits?
I’ll tell ya’ son, there’s a lesson for you,
And it won’t take five minutes.
A card shark, is what I was,
When I started out,
A card shark is a deceiver,
That’s what it’s about.
It was high, high propaganda,
Made to appear not lying!
It was stealin’ others’ money,
With cards dealt they were buying.
They were buying the lie,
My game wasn’t rigged,
I let ‘em believe it,
While them I out-pigged!
I was evil and rich, with my black bowler,
I looked good enough,
Then I was mugged, black bowler taken,
By muggers more tough.
The muggers were more overt evil,
Much more evil than covert I,
I chose to become a white-hat lawman,
And let covert bad in me die.
I ran out card cheats and muggers,
When I picked up the star,
America, what will you do now?
Do you know who you are?
About every three or four score in America,
The balance with card sharks is tipped,
Card sharks are happy-rich until attacked,
Attacked by muggers, fey dignity ripped.
Sharks give up sharking,
Become good lawmen,
Until lesson’s forgotten,
To start back again.
Law is liberty,
And liberty is law,
Of Western Enlightenment,
Be ever in awe.
But slick deception,
Takes it away,
Only to be hit by,
Mugger of day.
How close to Fabian, oligarch socialism,
Were we in Nineteen forty-one?
How we have blindly marched that direction,
Since September morn, Two-thousand one.
Church, school, media and government,
Say the poor must give to the rich,
Reason is turned on its aching head,
Loving blindness puts us in ditch.
Progressive education, prosperity teachings,
Political correctness and compiled error,
Have made neighbor one’s own suspicious enemy,
And enslaved all-for-one with terror.
Thank God for the muggers,
Who have caused our wars against tyranny,
Without beating them back,
From within we’d be just shark bait: un-free.
Moral relativity, progressivism and such,
Died on Nine-One-One,
Only they’re too dumb to know they’re gut-shot,
They think they’ve begun.
Until it’s clear,
The scope of this war,
People don’t know,
Just what we fight for.
We fight for liberty without,
And liberty within,
Our pride must take a double,
Hit on the chin.
America has gone corrupt,
Near complete,
Sharks have knocked liberty,
Off her feet.
Muggers see the dark, deceiving sharks,
Gorging on liberty’s delights,
Muggers attack proud, satiated sharks,
Sharks must then turn on the lights.
Sharks: Become lawmen,
Clean up on two fronts!
Make our home and abroad,
Freedom’s flowing founts!
Sharks and muggers, in history,
In fact, produce lawmen,
But if they won’t fix themselves,
They’re pirates: Hang ‘em!
I say it’s simple,
About as simple as truth, and just that,
Simple as a horse,
And cowboy with gun and white hat.
Increase Unawareness! Un-Calibrate Indwelling!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/7/09
I f I’ve told you once,
I’ve told you one hundred times,
In these large demon assemblies,
These motivating meetings of mine: To!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
What am I saying?
What am I selling?
Your hosts, God help ‘em, must be deceived!
Your hosts, must be off heaven’s drumbeat! So!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
An example: A host of mine,
Well, he was about to do good, Yes: Boo!
Granted, it was a small thing,
He almost gave neighbor food! Yes: No! But!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
His new neighbor just moved in,
And was short on cash,
My host felt God’s calling,
And came to neighbor fast! But!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
You see, dear demons, here’s what I did,
My host delivered food: to their kid!
A boy, just eight, so I worked splendid,
I made neighbors think my host: perverted! So!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
The neighbors called the cops,
The district attorney called for judging,
My host went to jail: his crime, You’re gonna’ love this:
Loving his neighbor, obeying God’s nudging. So!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
Do we want hell on earth?
That’s right, friends, roar a loud: YES!
Or do we want God’s heaven?
NO! This ends my meeting best: To!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
I leave you with this strong motivation,
This, my humble storytelling,
Forget the exception, believe this rule,
Unbelief is always more selling! To!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
Oh yes, and this indwelling of God,
Not rapture, not someday: even now, demon crowd,
Your hosts must escape, not laud,
With wrong doxies! We hate in whom God’s proud! So!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
So demons, by all means sell the rapture!
God knows it’s full of fear,
Sell any escape-God-now doxies that,
Bring Father Satan near! So!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
But rapture and end-times fear worship,
And love of religious weakness,
Oh demons, I will talk of next time,
Until then make God’s light: bleakness! And!
Increase unawareness!
Un-calibrate indwelling!
The Saga of Weak Strength and Strong Fear
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/6/09
I walked into the barroom,
Good God! Black Bart was raping barmaid Sue!
I quick drew my Colt to shoot him,
Stop! Yelled the sheriff, This you cannot do!
You’re in the town of Little Big Whiskey,
Where we worship god: Weak Strength,
Let Bart go and Sue will serve you next,
Expand your mind’s breadth and length!
We also worship god: Strong Fear,
Oh, how we love our two gods,
You see, Weak Strength makes me hero,
The sheriff who increases rapists’ odds!
And Strong Fear makes me leery,
Of strangers like you,
Who don’t buy our town’s theory,
So I might kill you!
I might shoot you down in cold blood,
I can see it in your eyes,
You don’t love Weak Strength or Strong Fear,
This me and my town surmise.
Then the sheriff and barroom crowd,
Stripped and tarred and feathered me!
Except for Sue who I saw proud,
Burned to ground: Little Big Whiskey.
Well, they let her go later,
And somehow she found me,
We married and now our children,
Are strong and fear-free.
Our children, we know,
Might somehow meet tar and feather,
But we warn them,
Love conquers fear’s weakness better.
We say to hell with Weak Strength,
With its befuddled mind,
We say to hell with Strong Fear,
And such dangerous kind.
Right is right, wrong: wrong,
No matter what they say,
We want heaven on earth,
Stop fear’s hell today!
It isn’t so hard,
To be strong and courageous,
Just say, No to fear,
And, Yes to how God made us!
Even Black Bart, reborn man,
Works on our peaceful ranch,
We have forgiven him,
Though it makes others blanch.
Ol’ Bart did kill six men last year,
But he was not wrong,
Seven came to steal our children,
I guess you’d say he’s strong.
The seventh man, reborn,
Is now in our employ,
Our ranch of forgiveness,
Is heaven to enjoy.
Sure, on bad days I hurt a lot,
From my being tarred,
My blessing! When it comes to you,
Take it easy, pard.
.
Staunch the Flow of Unawareness
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/6/09
S taunch the flow of unawareness,
Close this wound that bleeds,
Detect patterns of closed mindedness,
Not sow more bleeding seeds.
Mega churches teach mega giving,
From poor folk to rich grandees,
Public schools teach compliant ones,
To love unquestioned public deeds.
Culture defines favored groups in whole,
To be perfect without doubt,
When, in fact, groups have three tiers,
Good, middle and bad to rout.
Then again, one group our blind culture,
Hates, in fact, entirely,
Any group that says, Staunch the flow,
That is, anyone who sees.
Anyone who sees,
This age’s dilemma is sight,
Anyone says, See?
Of course, cannot be right.
We let enemies roam for devious, self-interest reason,
While banishing friends,
Staunch the flow of unawareness, oh gambit wolves of treason,
Bad means have bad ends.
Today’s slavery from some leaders hiding agendas,
Is slavery of thought, thought, thought!
Unbind yourself from their selfish scheme-o-ramas,
See what we have ought naught bought!
How to Sell Hopes
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/5/09
Y ou gotta’ sell hopes, hopes!
Joe said to me,
Giving three envelopes,
Kindly to me.
Khruschev, he said,
You’re going to have crisis,
I’m gone, you lead,
Here’s what my advice is.
Stalin died, I led,
Later came trouble,
Envelope One I opened,
On the double!
Hi, this is Uncle Joe,
Is what it said,
Blame me in crisis one,
Though I am dead.
It worked!
Somehow I made through,
But later!
Came, well, crisis two!
Envelope Two I opened,
Trying to be brave,
Blame me! Uncle Joe, again!
He said from the grave.
Wow! It worked like magic,
Oh lucky me,
Then! Then came last crisis,
Crisis three!
Shirt soaked with sweat,
Slowly I read Joe Stalin’s greatest letter,
It said, Dear Khrushchev,
Three envelopes prepare, you had better!
So, you gotta’ sell hopes,
As deceiving leader of your gullible sheep,
Then, blame previous blokes,
And make three letters that your next-in-line keep.
This is a wonderful wile,
A wile among many,
We deceivers keep secret,
To take all from any!
But if you know us deceivers,
By our fruit,
Then your fruit among others,
We can’t loot!
Why do we tell you this,
Our deception pathway?
The under-taught don’t care,
They are our slaves anyway!
But you say,
We’re taught! Now you can’t rule!
You believe?
So what, enough others we fool!
You’ll be true shepherds?
We’ve heard that before,
In fact, once thought I,
But power made me whore!
We mock In That Day,
And God’s revelation,
God in you? Who cares?
We’ll keep you in station.
Maybe you will,
Maybe you are right,
But does God lose,
When He’s in the fight?
Washing of the Water with Poems
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/5/09
P oems inane, poems so funny,
Poems far out,
Poems holy, poems irreligious,
Poems strike out.
Washing of the water,
Of what’s true in eternity,
Read: In That Day poems,
Until: Wow! Oh, Wow! I See!
Poems on In That Special Day ,
Poems political,
Poems day in, between and out,
Often critical.
Why the poems, Robert?
Like manna every day!
Shall we read them, Robert?
Or throw them away!
Washing of the water,
Of what’s true in eternity,
Read: In That Day poems,
Until: Wow! Oh, Wow! I See!
Read the poems, beloved,
Laugh, weep or cry,
Read the poems, beloved,
But ask not why.
One In That Day , it’ll congeal,
With poems, poems, poems,
God in you-me He will reveal,
With poems, poems, poems.
Washing of the water,
Of what’s true in eternity,
Read: In That Day poems,
Until: Wow! Oh, Wow! I See!
I Have a Scheme!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/5/09
M y name is I-Have-a-Scheme,
And I am a demon!
Don’t underestimate me,
I am a real he-man!
When Satan let me out,
One hundred years ago,
My titanic assignment,
Too much to undergo!
First, scheme up education,
So students graduate blind-unaware,
Their teachers taught nothing,
And made students really not care!
Next, preachers must have a scheme,
So preachers make sheep unaware,
Their preachers preached nothing,
And made sheep really not care!
Next, politicians must have a scheme,
So politicians make voters unaware,
Their politicians did nothing,
And made voters really not care!
Now bankers rob the savers,
With their too-big-to-fail scheme,
Savers really don’t care,
They believe any pipe dream!
Satan is super pleased with demon,
Li’l lie-maker moi: I-Have-a-Scheme,
We’ve beat back God’s In That Day,
And its colossal enlightenment theme!
If people read, studied and believed,
Certain In That Day Teaching tomes,
Readers would see myriads of schemes,
And be rich in the heart of their homes!
But people just can’t believe,
Their preacher, teacher, newsman or idol star,
Are infilled with my scheming spirit,
They are me, I am them: that’s who we are!
My name is I-Have-a-Scheme,
Is that your name too?
Don’t bother with seers saying,
I’m hard to see through!
And one more thing,
In That Day, God lives in you but not in me,
God comes quickly,
In the scheme-free, In That Day, not with me!
Those in me, I-Have-a-Scheme ,
Or taught by same,
Won’t have God in them freeing,
The scheme-taught lame.
The scheme-taught will buy,
Any scheming book,
Except In That Day’s kind,
On how to look.
My name is I-Have-a-Scheme,
Is that your name too?
Don’t bother with seers saying,
I’m hard to see through!
Be like me and your teachers,
You won’t be seen,
Get yourself rich off schemers!
Know what I mean?
My name is I-Have-a-Scheme,
Is that your name too?
Don’t bother with seers saying,
I’m hard to see through!
Tell Me it’s Not True!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/4/09
A rnold, oh Arnold, oh Arnold,
Tell me, tell me, tell me it’s not true!
Seven dot two score years ago,
I was shot, not in head, but by cannon to you.
I wanted, you know, to go see California,
In the future,
So in capsule, in cannon: I went to space,
Returned now: sure!
I landed at night,
In Lake Tahoe’s refreshing cold water,
Un-hibernated,
Found Lincoln Highway, as I ought’er!
Got a ride to your capitol dome,
Sacramento!
With my black coat, tall hat, stopped by now,
To say hello!
But Arnold, oh Arnold, oh Arnold Schwarzenegger!
What’s this federal and state income tax?
And kowtow to union, green-earth, non-justice buggers?
Give these brigands a taste of Illinois ax!
You make me wish,
Old Robert E. Lee had won!
What in hell has,
Gone girly-man with you son?
Let’s roll up our sleeves,
Eleven dot seven score years ago,
Our forefathers brought forth,
What you forgot, but I know.
They brought forth liberty,
It is a word, I see, on your penny,
But liberty is worth nothing,
If you tax unto covert slavery.
Yes, Arnold, I was,
A great liberator,
Who has been liberty’s,
Invisible Terminator?
I’m not blaming you,
Nor do I blame time,
It’s man’s laziness,
And tendencies supine.
This state has led,
The invisible charge to consumptive ruin,
Call on my kind,
To right wrong as burly, invincible bruin!
I could have, you know,
Compromised with principles in my day,
I did not! Don’t you!
Resurrected A. Lincoln has little more to say.
But that I head now to Nevada,
The great silver state battle born,
For freedom needs be birthing,
Continually expanding! Or stillborn.
Arnold, your California gold,
In essence, is almost totally corrupted,
My spirit goes elsewhere,
Where liberty expands uninterrupted.
Skeptics, look at your penny,
Look at your wallet’s five-dollar bill,
The spirit of A. Lincoln,
Lives! It lives in you, if you only will.
One Hundred Years of Progressive Rule!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/3/09
T hey cracked the code of liberty,
And made it a Rubik’s Cube,
Then wrapped it in a Gordian knot,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
They almost had victory in Depression,
Packing the Supreme Court with fools,
Hitler and Hito delayed half the plans of,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
Now seers see, but they see for naught,
Rulers are sold and bought as mere tools,
In the name of liberty, liberty belayed by,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
Would God we had a wise King George,
Who never burdened America’s unborn pool,
With abortion, poor house or deep angst of,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
Where is the dragon to slay, fire to quench,
Or central square statue to remove?
Our enemy: catch-less, invisible, dangerous to good,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
They’ve perfected political slavery unawares,
These knighted, empowered, barbaric ghouls,
Their fey wiles hidden from under-taught masses,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
My sons’ great, great grandfathers once lived,
Secure in liberty, America’s shining jewel,
My sons’ great, great grandsons can’t survive,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
Part of us has become enemy,
To our Founding Father’s good,
This cancer must be stopped, this,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
Shall it be violent? Shall it be peaceful?
It depends on truth abridged or pursued,
They’ve made down up so long, truth’s evil to,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
Shall it take a moment, movement or millennium,
To uncorrupt our three-legged government stool?
Or shall mystic tyrants kill liberty’s lovers with,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
Can love of liberty be kilt so quick,
In the breast of Americans long fooled?
Ignorance has beat intelligence, slavery: freedom with,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
As for me and my house, poor and impoverished as it be,
I cannot, cannot tolerate this long avoided duel,
Our Declaration of Independence shall beat the hell out of,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
Oh sons of America, daughters of freedom, lovers of liberty,
Rise up from stupor! If not us, then who will?
With the Declaration of Independence, beat the hell out of,
One hundred years of progressive rule!
They Came in Peace
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 11/2/09
Matthew 23:38-39
T hey came in peace,
They came from outer space,
They could’ve taken,
Or wiped out our whole race!
We come in peace,
But we are desperate,
Out of energy!
They told our planet.
We have been saving universes,
We have been saving worlds,
We’re out of gas, depleted,
Oh madams, oh sirs.
They were polite,
These short, green, large-headed creatures,
We asked them,
You seek precisely what features?
You want our oil or gas?
We’re almost out!
Or uranium or gold,
Or blood drawn out?
No, they said,
Our energy comes from different courses,
You don’t know?
Better energy than all known sources!
Who among you is humble, yet free?
Who is on course in lowly destiny?
We must bless them and in return,
God blesses us and helps us be!
It’s lonely out in space,
It’s lonely saving galaxies,
But blessing the meek humble,
Repairs all our maladies!
You didn’t know this?
We thought you were advanced!
We thought your best,
In time, with God danced!
We sadly will leave you then,
To your proud devices,
We’ve blessed your little ones,
Protect them from your vices!
We’re recharged with energy,
We’ve blessed your lowly,
Be careful proud planet!
That’s what they told me.
We came in peace,
But we leave in rebuke,
Stop deception!
Stop corruption! Just look!
Look at your,
Ancient wise ones,
On good path,
Your energized sons…
They could change minds,
For better without war,
You deceive your minds,
And we know what for.
For cheap truths, bad doctrines,
Unworkable here,
Unworkable in every planet known,
Undrinkable beer.
Planets like yours inevitably will get light,
One way or the other,
Your energy crashes planet into sun,
Or you love your brother!
We, with all our travel and knowledge,
Humble ourselves to bless God in you!
Learn, oh proud grandees of earth,
Stop praising fear and hating God imbued.
You love your bad,
Religious, political, education doxies,
They are the same,
Designed to keep God out, instead: proxies.
All civilized planets we visit,
Have in them wisdom of the age,
Some planets like yours implode,
Because they keep pride their sage.
At first you feared us,
Little, green, polite, wise spacemen,
Fear God and fear your pride!
Your planet’s energy will save or rend.
The most powerful force for good,
Blessing the meek with humble love,
The most powerful force for bad,
Pride and no fear of God above.
Oh Earth decide,
Decide your ride,
Good deride?
Or halt all pride.
We’ll know your decision,
From any distance,
We can feel God’s love,
And its absence.
10/30/2009
Aye! There’s the Rub!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/30/09
S o, upheaval is coming,
It can’t be stopped,
Those that see it coming,
Have been blocked.
Why give the seers sight,
If it’s for naught?
Aye! There’s the rub!
There’s more than thought…
This upheaval coming,
Is a gift from God,
It’s to teach a lesson,
To the unwilling mob…
That has stuck to its guns,
Its guns of wrong doxie,
Aye! There’s the rub!
Fouls guns of proud moxie.
Take broadcast Christianity,
With popular doctrines of error,
It’ll be much realigned,
With Western Enlightenment fare…
Which is much fairer,
To all concerned,
Aye! There’s the rub!
Sheep: no longer burned.
Sheep shall no longer be suckered,
By fey prosperity,
Neuro-Linguistic tricksterism used,
By brazen, loud carny.
No more pulling wool over eyes,
Of gullible sheep,
Aye! Aye! Aye! There’s the rub!
No brains put to sleep.
When brains are taught,
Western Enlightenment context,
Citizen-sheep outsmart,
Fey politicians with shenanigan hex.
But now Christian Broadcast,
Works hand-in-glove as a vex,
Aye! Aye! Aye! There’s the rub!
That other wolves eat sheep next!
Wolves of government, wolves of business,
Easily outwit, outstrip masses,
Taught by wolf educators, wolf commentators,
Tyrannical, mystical dumb asses.
Dumb leaders destroying,
Twenty-five centuries of thought,
Aye! Aye! Aye! There’s the rub!
Because lies! Lies they have bought.
What are these lies,
Hidden from sight?
That our culture isn’t wrong?
And ancients weren’t right?
That survival of fittest,
Means that others must die?
Aye! Aye! Aye! There’s the rub!
No, God in you must thrive!
That God can and does live in you,
And come now in sudden surprise,
Is the overarching good of our history,
That we must fully now surmise.
And to work John Fourteen: Twenty,
Into mankind’s overly rigid soul,
Aye! Aye! Aye! And triple the rub!
Man must be flexible, holy and whole!
It’s the lesson of Job,
Finally understood,
Not rigid-righteousness,
Not hard, stubborn wood!
Prophet Elihu proclaimed the way,
God’s voice in story, yet humble,
Aye! Triple Aye! And quad the rub!
Honor such great ones, or stumble!
Unless you learn to say blessed is he, or she!
Who comes NOW! In the nature of the Lord,
Your brain, your soul, your house is desolate,
Your sight is like a home shuttered with board.
Unless you see Job’s rigid-leader pride,
Was the terrible, awful Leviathan beast,
Aye! Quad Aye! Even quintuple the rub!
You will make of coming upheaval: least!
This upheaval comes to the world,
Because improvement of thought is overdue,
The world shall love Western Enlightenment,
And to its lines and precepts again be true.
Behold how now woe comes to man!
Like it’s never, no never been seen!
Infinite Aye! Infinite rub!
That God now greatly live in him clean!
Bullets in the By
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/29/09
T he soldier shooting bullets asks:
Am I a leaf on the wind,
Or wind to the leaf?
Am I destiny’s child,
Or is there relief?
When bullets fly back,
The other way,
The soldier will pray,
Stop him, I say!
Both soldiers pray,
To kill each other,
God hears all prayers,
For Him, no bother.
Whose prayers are answered,
In That Day?
Some are, some not: in God’s,
Inscrutable way.
Sometimes a bullet received,
Might be actually nice,
To prevent a post-bellum,
Irredeemable vice.
So the best each soldier,
In or out of God can do,
Is soldier best and,
To himself and cause be true.
Listen,
Soldiers facing each other in war,
Be still,
Don’t dwell overmuch on what for.
You might ask yourself,
To hard truths self-evident,
Of history’s love lessons,
Am I true in consequence?
A time for war,
A time for peace,
Live long enough,
You will have each.
But love in war!
Love in peace!
Strike in kindness!
Hug in reach!
The loving warrior,
Is rather ideal,
A real peacemaker,
Poet in heart: real.
In war’s crucible,
Even in life’s dreary struggle,
Brave hearts are born,
You can’t stop bullets, it’s futile.
Bullets come, bullets go,
Don’t ask why,
Behold what light is born,
In the by.
Life is a Double-Flowing Hourglass
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/29/09
W e are oft like the ancient mariner,
Struggling for redemption
Stuck tight at penury hourglass neck,
Finding no exemption.
The hourglass’ shape,
Shapes our experience,
Skinny in the middle,
Stuck fast in rigidness.
We start at the wide base,
Wide in foul proclivity,
Free to do evil things,
Until moving to rigidity.
We move up in the hourglass,
Constrained by righteous commandment,
Unaware rigid rules have a way,
Of blocking God’s highest refinement.
Pride lives in that choking bottleneck,
Where the hourglass sand slows its descent,
In humility: maturity,
We hope to escalade where saints are sent.
Up we go to wide place of movement,
Flexible and free,
Breaking rules as holy God allows,
Free in liberty.
How the rigid righteous,
Hate the flexible and free!
Making bottlenecks tighter,
Hoping no saints can see!
The rigid prideful in religion,
Killed Christ upon the cross,
For being holy, kind and flexible,
And not letting them be boss!
Thus, they killed the prophets,
Thus, life seems a loss,
Have faith, be still, love God,
Lose the albatross!
Like ancient mariner,
You will suddenly see,
Love! Love the unredeemed,
Love everything! Be free!
But watch your back!
And the others in the upper hourglass!
Your sacrifice,
Must come at God’s time, not too fast!
No, it’s not all kicks and giggles,
Sometimes it’s heavy as lead,
It’s the cost of soaring as an eagle,
When with Christ you’re wed.
But rigid leaders stuck in the middle,
Don’t see it that way,
They want to break hourglass in half,
To stop God’s belay!
But they can’t break the hourglass,
So they’ll try to break you,
And you will want to break them,
But this you shouldn’t do.
Just be the best person,
In flexibility, love your holy, at-risk plight,
And others will follow,
Realizing: God-in-man is what’s right.
Love! Love is the key,
Someday more will break through,
To holy flexibility,
When In That Day is due.
Life is a double-flowing hourglass,
Ascend to holy, flexible top!
Don’t get stuck in rigid, religious pride,
Before your righteous time runs out!
Renovation Sows
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/27/09
B orn of a railroad, born of fights,
This is Reno,
Born of divorce and gambling nights,
This is Reno.
Desert city, yet near gleaming lakes,
And it snows,
Cold winters, hot summers, zephyr shakes,
And it snows.
Economy smashes, hope dashes,
Yet Reno grows,
Tracts retract, what crashes, crashes,
Yet Reno grows.
The biggest little city in the world,
Bends at blows,
The world dismisses this marvel that,
Bends at blows.
An underdog can lose every battle, but win the war,
Heaven knows,
The flexible, unbeaten dog teaches tomorrow’s spar,
Heaven knows.
Sure, Reno, it seems, is almost always error-headed,
Near to woe,
But that’s where peace’s needle in tribulation: threaded,
Near to woe.
What’s next, then, for woe-be-often, little-that’s-big Reno?
Restoration flow,
Like the Truckee, fed by Tahoe, drink soul-deep: oh Reno,
Restoration flow.
A libertarian lot that legalizes known but minor vices,
Reno knows,
Can birth liberty’s best, truest and surprising devices,
Reno knows.
Watch, oh world, who, what and just wherein,
Reno goes,
Mocking world, don’t discount the forbearing,
Reno goes.
Let enemies and devils win popular overt wars,
Reno flows,
As man and God, oft unseen, in the covert soars,
Reno flows.
We speak now of city or mankind’s best,
Renovation sows,
The undaunted, scarred but matured crest,
Renovation sows.
Not All are Ossified
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/27/09
Isaiah 28
N ot all are ossified,
Not all are stuck,
Not all live life,
In the same rut.
So many play their life’s record,
Locked in deep groove,
Others jump track, change tune,
Get up and move!
Life is movement!
So is breath,
So, move and breathe!
Before death.
Who says you can’t,
Fix what’s broke?
You can be a much,
Better bloke!
Or blokess!
That made you laugh?
Ladies, gents: Change water,
In the old bath.
Bathe yourself in God’s love,
In song, in story, in dance,
Love conquers all, God’s partners,
This is your last chance!
Last chance to change,
The train is leaving the station,
Will you hop on?
God isn’t finished with creation.
That’d be you,
Oh ascendant, transcendent soul,
Un-ossify!
Petrification isn’t a beauty mole!
Here’s the Deal on In That Day Teaching Poems
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/26/09
Isaiah 28
I salute you if…
If you can read this,
If you can need this,
If you can breed this,
…these In That Day teaching poems!
I give here to you…
Not entertainment, but,
Something heaven-sent,
Even so: enlightenment,
…these In That Day teaching tomes!
These lines, precepts…
Bouncing to and fro,
Adding what you know,
Foundation doxies grow,
…multiplying greatly: whole soul sums!
A world view…
Rare found,
Yet profound,
Rather unbound,
…and in God so free!
Here a little, there a little…
As prophet Isaiah,
Or Paul’s Way: ah,
Even what say I: ah,
…not in part, but wholly!
I salute you, if you…
See in here gold,
Ancient paths old,
Rediscovered bold,
…God’s own verily, verily!
As a boy I was…
So much lost,
At such a cost,
My life mocked,
…not knowing how to be!
Learn from my sadness…
What’s missing is here,
Like a really good beer,
Funny, yet oddly sincere,
…God’s retold great mystery!
God in true movement…
Not what you bought,
Not what you thought,
But Someone you’ve got,
…in you, Hallelu, holler: I see!
I see said the God head…
The Father,
And the Son,
And Holy Spirit,
…wed, in bed, in true spirit, with thee!
Is it really that easy…
You nearly ripe full,
Yes, you archetypical,
Come, oh missing disciple,
…In That Day, in time, in history!
Scary is as Scary Does
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/26/09
O h daughter Diana,
Let your mother, Demeana,
Tell how to dominate,
The earth and its men, Ha!
When a man sees your evil,
Shout: He is scary!
Men will lock him up,
And of you be wary.
If any woman sees your ruse,
Shout: She’s like a scary man!
Men and women will lock her up,
And of you be wary, again!
Honestly, people are so blind-stupid,
Scary is like beating a dead horse,
Because when it stops working magic,
We’ll use another word, of course.
But for us, for now,
Scary is the word that will do,
God or else Satan,
Gave it to us to kill logic and truth.
We can do what we want,
With any gender,
With word scary in quiver,
Most all surrender!
Forget justice, forget liberty,
Forget even truth,
We’ve got scary power, daughter,
Fear’s our vermouth!
Yes, our mantra is fear,
And the delightful word scary,
Who sees our gambit?
The world is our cherry!
No Superman, no James Bond,
No Churchill can stop us,
We have all Kryptonite power,
With scary, none top us!
Scary, scary, scary!
God, I love that sound!
Oops, I’m going quite mad,
Fear has me bound!
Oh daughter, forgive me,
I was wrong,
Forgive me! Have courage,
And be strong!
Have courage and be strong,
Correct my foul deed,
Teach the world my tricksterism,
Love truth, truth redeem!
Truth beats scary,
It beats it well,
Learn that from me,
And how I fell.
I Invented a Flying Bullet
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/25/09
I invented a flying bullet,
Because I read Darwin,
Survival of the fittest,
Means some lose, some win.
I wanted to be the absolute fittest,
In the land,
And that’s the one with flying bullets,
At his command.
My flying bullets fly out,
From my mounted gun,
Pointed to the heavens,
Their flight just begun.
Silent as a specter,
My flying bullets fly,
Each one appointed,
For someone else to die.
So from my thousand-acre ranch,
In Montana,
I decided to help Darwin’s man,
Reach nirvana.
First to go were Muslims,
Who cause such a trouble,
Then, of course, the Jews,
And that was just a bubble!
Then the Chinese,
They were starving anyway,
And the Africans,
Who had no money to pay.
You see, I asked for tribute,
From those who wanted to live,
But after a while I took it all,
Earth had nothing left to give.
I am the last man standing,
Darwin would be proud,
I am the fittest person!
I shout out loud.
But that’s the problem,
No one but me hears,
I have read Darwin wrong,
I’m alone, in fears!
And then I awoke,
From my dark, horrid dream,
There is no flying bullet,
No horrid Darwin scheme.
Or is there? Out in our popular culture,
That is hell-bent on personal limits,
And madman, mad-scheme enforcement,
And death-barbs to death’s critics.
Aye, there are flying bullets,
In analogy!
Wrong doctrines empowered,
Kill what’s lovely.
Well-wishing good on you,
Isn’t allowed,
If fear of limits consume,
Thoughts wrong-bowed.
Thoughts of mistrust and hate,
In the popular culture pate,
That anyone not you or great,
Must therefore self-eliminate.
Good God! This is hell on earth!
Have mercy on our souls,
Flying bullets of death would be bad,
Worse still: unloving trolls.
Let there be light!
That love be renewed,
False doctrines die,
That hate be eschewed.
Enough with flying bullets!
Enough with current liberal trends!
Love comes not from right or left,
But from center, where love amends!
Patience is love,
And love is patience,
God have mercy,
Help us: make sense!
Let us make sense,
Of what it is we are here to do,
Love God and man,
Or be judge and executioner, too?
You might say you don’t judge,
And, of course, say the same might I,
But if this is really true,
Why is there so much hate, oh why?
Why are people considered,
A bother and a blame,
And new babies a nuisance?
We’re not glad they came?
We’re here, and we need love,
Not the next?
We must love each other,
Or be vexed.
Each person on earth,
Can have God inside him,
Do we really want to kill,
Who God might be in?
Rather limited thinkers,
This depopulation lot,
Knowing not how God lives,
In whom they cannot spot.
Fear’s Political Evangelists
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/25/09
P olitically speaking,
What is your own religion?
Do right: Feel good,
Do bad: Feel bad; was Lincoln’s.
But do you rather feel somehow,
The world’s resources are limited?
Or: the greatest revelation,
God lives in man uninhibited?
If the former,
Your bottom-line foundational lie,
Survival of the fittest,
Means lesser others must, well, die.
If the latter,
Glory hallelu!
God is in me,
And also in you!
If He can live in us,
Then also seven billion,
Seven billion synchronized,
To get along willin’!
But if the former,
Don’t be fear’s perfect evangelist,
Recruiting others,
For the world’s paramount curse.
An exterminator among men,
Is the master ideal,
Teaching others limits,
Employing death’s deal.
Death to the realists,
Who won’t evangelize,
The world has limits,
Death being their prize.
Death, by such calculus, comes to all,
To all dummies who don’t know,
The world has Darwinian life-limits,
But who, pray tell, told them so?
Not our God,
Who lives in man,
Limitless,
The great I AM!
Who says who will live?
Who says who will die?
God wishes it be said,
By not you, not I.
GOLLY!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/24/09
T here once was a,
Bad king clever,
Who thought ill of,
Himself never!
When critics observed,
His fey-doings,
He said he was a boy,
To critics proving:
The critics were kings with: no clothes!
To which we say: GOLLY!
There once was an abolitionist,
Who freed the slaves,
This great man, Abraham Lincoln,
Taught lesser knaves…
Great truths and magnanimous,
Overarching, kind love for all,
But progressives teach minorities,
To depend on a governing cabal.
The progressives say such slavery is: freedom!
To which we say: GOLLY!
Our universities once taught,
Western Enlightenment’s hard truths,
That the world is dangerous,
Strong precepts protect the weak from abuse.
But media, church, government,
Business and antipodal education,
Mandate certain abuses be popular,
Less weak minds see subjugation.
The empowered say their might, in their case, makes: right!
To which we say: GOLLY!
The greatest political sentence to ennoble and uplift,
Was by Thomas Jefferson written,
It says all men are created equal, and certain rights,
Unalienable from them can’t be smitten.
But today’s leaders from which that same,
Declaration of Independence was born,
Saddle trillions of dollars of debt on those,
If not aborted, shall freedom’s loss mourn.
The statist enslavers say they are making a great: utopia!
To which we say: GOLLY!
If being reduced to ignorance,
And believing manifold slavery,
Is a long-sought nirvana,
And opposition: foul knavery.
And if seeing truth,
Causes shepherds agitation,
And hopes must be dashed,
To keep overlords in station.
Because, they say, our Founding Fathers are: dead!
To which we say: GOLLY!
They say Lincoln is dead,
So is Thomas Jefferson,
So is Moses and Jesus,
And George Washington.
Deader than nails,
They all be,
Inconvenient lives,
In history.
Because, they say, political correctness rules: forever!
To which we say: GOLLY!
They say you cannot complain,
You can’t revolt,
It’s insuperable. You can’t run,
You can’t bolt.
And we, the people, say,
Maybe you are right,
But back in the day, we,
Gave King George a fight.
We, the people, say our blood fought and died for: liberty!
Mystic tyrants said and shall say again: GOLLY!
Don’t threaten violence,
They say, you’re on our watch list,
Bend over, take it,
You’re just nothing but our mill’s grist.
How dare you believe,
In natural law,
We killed all such,
In us: be in awe.
We, the people, say we pledge allegiance to: justice and liberty!
Mystic tyrants lose against truth and shall say: GOLLY!
How can you win,
When we’ve got the power?
We own broadcast,
Every second and hour.
Pooh on the internet,
Pooh on your blogs,
We are contented,
In-power, slop hogs.
We, the people, say we are perfected in: great liberty!
Mystic tyrants lose in the end and shall say: GOLLY!
Bottle Rockets to Nowhere
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/22/09
I saw a group of scientists,
In an amphitheater room,
Designing rockets they were,
To blast to the moon.
I assembled my film crew,
For this did they my company hire,
To record for forever,
Their steps to heaven from the mire.
Surprised I was when I saw,
Their plain ingredients,
Just water and compressed air,
To get man heaven-sent.
You must be kidding!
I proclaimed to a bespectacled bloke,
No sir, we are not,
Water and compressed air is no joke!
It will truly blast man from earth to low orbit,
And beyond to the moon!
I said, I played with bottle rockets when young,
Are you a buffoon?
Our bottle rockets shall go,
Eighteen, nay twenty-five thousand miles an hour!
On compressed air and water?
How on earth shall they get gravity-freeing power?
Watch and see, oh skeptic,
Was what he said to me,
I set up the camera film crew,
To see what would actually be.
Their twenty-story rocket,
Was something to behold,
But its blast moved it not,
But watered every soul.
Victory! Hurray! Eureka!
Each wet scientist yelled with glee,
Did you capture it on film?
Did your crew preserve us in history?
I sadly told them,
My crew and cameras captured nothing,
Nothing but a soaking,
We came expecting Atlas, but got a token.
Finally they did admit,
Something was amiss,
Next we’ll use colored water,
That shall be our twist!
I said, Just build yourself a rocket,
Like the Atlas used in Nineteen sixty-nine,
On its mission to and fro the moon,
A giant leap, it was, for all mankind!
Neigh, neigh! They said,
You are a heretic with spoilt eyes,
They fired me and my crew,
That others would agree with their surmise.
Last I heard their broadcast business,
Of filming bottle rockets to nowhere,
Takes in a couple ten billion dollars,
From donors thrilled to be soaked unaware.
Unaware, and glad unawares,
Are the donors to madcap bottle rocket schemes,
Who don’t learn or live history,
But pay gladly to confirm escape-earth dreams.
Is this a tale of erring scientists,
Or deluded Christian broadcasters?
Let the reader be undeterred,
Escapist must escape: unobserved!
Bending with Life
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/21/09
I f you’ve been chewed up,
Chewed up by life,
If you’ve had your share,
Your share of strife,
And you learned to bend,
To bend with life…
People might think your bruises,
Your bruises are proof,
That you are, they say, a scary,
A scary and foul brood,
By those in fear and opinion,
Opinion oft most rude.
But tutelary, perhaps, your saint,
Your saint loved your heart,
When God gave you your life,
Your life at birth’s start,
That bruising be maximized,
Maximized as great art.
God, you see, is a connoisseur,
A connoisseur of men’s souls,
And so are domestic animals,
Animals who love you untold,
But not the humans fearful,
Humans fearful by Satan enrolled.
For the fearful fear the completed,
Completed by God as evil,
And see your bruised-bought goodness,
Goodness: as born of the Devil,
But we must love them as they fear,
Fear: until God burns their stubble.
And if they’re lucky, they’ll be chewed up,
Chewed up by life,
And if they’re lucky, they’ll have their share,
Their share of strife,
And if they’re lucky, they’ll learn to bend,
To bend with life.
Or they won’t in their rigidness ever learn,
Learn in humility to love the bruised.
The bruised whom they mocked in error,
Error: not knowing how to be used,
They therefore sadly miscomprehend,
Miscomprehend: how fate is diffused.
That if they’re blessed, they’ll be chewed up,
Chewed up by life,
That if they’re blessed, they’ll have their share,
Their share of strife,
That if they’re blessed, they’ll learn to bend,
To bend with life.
Soft of Heart, Strong of Head
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/19/09
W e came o’er the mountains,
We came across the plain,
Back in Eighteen-eighty,
To be born again!
We came to a wild West,
The land of stories told!
We came to raise up families,
To grow rich and old!
Every man among us,
Was wholesome: a man,
Soft of heart, strong of head,
Able to take a stand.
We had repeatin’ rifles,
Each a revolver gun,
A knife or two about himself,
Ready for night or sun.
Most all made heaven,
A hundred years ago,
Now we see our progeny,
When lookin’ down below.
Not one man has rifle,
Not one a holstered gun,
Nor even knife in pocket,
Each not so great grandson.
Maybe something in a safe,
Where it can’t be employed,
In the out and about,
Where life is enjoyed!
We see from heaven in the soul,
What is wrong with man,
His head is soft, heart: hard,
He can’t say: No to ma’am.
His approval comes not,
From things of true worth,
He adopts his queen’s fear,
A man: a man from birth!
There ought to be a law,
Against gelding so thorough,
The tools we carried then,
Made character grow and grow!
The queens of fear today,
Have done the unspeakable,
To men from death to birth,
And wrecked the un-wreckable.
Hemlock and wormwood,
Has been cast upon man,
Western values ruined,
By queens of fear brigand.
Not all females have fear,
Not all men: obsequies,
But on the whole manhood,
Has been cursed, not blessed.
Now, men are weapon’d up overseas,
To fight the Taliban,
Returned home and then gelded,
Never to fight again.
Never to hold their moral ground,
At home, only abroad,
Truth is truth only: beyond shores,
Obey queen fear, not God!
That’s their thinking, anyways,
Exactly heaven’s reverse,
Heaven asks her Western children,
Wake up! Change course!
Back in Eighteen-eighty,
When sleeping around the fire,
We posted guards to be,
At peace, we were not dire.
Queens of fear have put,
Manly virtue to sleep,
Despising true shepherds,
Making prey of sheep.
Queens of fear disbelieve true danger,
Taking from males what’s strong,
The biggest fear such queens have,
Is being just once proved wrong!
But wrong they are,
And wrong they ever be,
Genders have their roles,
Queens: queens, and kings: kingly.
Though it’s somewhat unmanly,
And against the rules of heaven,
At times we weep in open angst,
Beholding fearsome queens of leaven.
We pioneered the way of liberty,
We pioneered what with God is right,
Sons and daughters of our seed,
We weep! We wail! You give up without fight.
And, you lonely queens of virtue,
Who weep for lack of king,
Have faith, carry on, be true,
Sons of God shall rise again!
With the pioneer’s compass,
You virtuous can change the balance,
With moral sword and shield,
And white horse’s cavalry lance.
The Western spirit is not dead,
It e’er lives in legend and lore,
Prepare, prepare, oh virtuous,
God asks of you just this: more!
Okay, So It’s Broke
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/17/09
Okay, so it’s broke:
Western Christian religion.
Okay, so it’s broke:
Politics corrupting each region.
Okay, so it’s broke:
News-media in one deceiving fusion.
Okay, so it’s broke:
Politically correct education confusion.
Okay, so it’s broke:
People debased by various drugs’ illusion.
Okay, so it’s broke:
What might be, we ask, the solution?
Then, how about:
Western civilization’s enlightenment!
Then, how about:
Constitutional three-part government!
Then, how about:
Abstract wisdom of the ages against problems present!
Then, how about:
Deceptive demagoguery with sword of truth rent!
Then, how about:
Finite issues ameliorated by great minds’ past achievement!
Then, how about:
Admitting by ignoring history we have much to repent!
Then, how about:
Seeing we need not utopian perfection, but fix what’s bent!
Then, how about:
We leave our progeny a world with much less dent!
Then, how about:
Mutual dedication to self-restraint to patch liberty’s tent!
Then, how about:
We do this now, that our seed never ask where good went!
Then, how about:
Humble reverence to each ancient Western Enlightenment hint!
Then, how about:
Ours, the greatest renaissance stint!
Then, how about:
This ethereal love on true ascent!
10/17/09
Dear Pastor X,
Why am I sending this material (In That Day Teachings poems on jabberwocky) to you?
I saw a video clip of you speaking on the Ministry X website... such jabberwocky ! Such crowd con trol! Such a vapid message ! Shenanigans ! Magniloquence ! Svelte ! Urbane ! Aureate
Western Enlightenment... not!
Come on, Pastor X, my friend! Come on! (And come out of Egypt! Out of soulish-preaching!)
To employ crowd control and mesmerizing techniques as you do ... THEN NOT tell the crowd what you do... It is mental enslavement . Worse than pre-Civil War slavery! Yes, yes, yes!
Think about it...
Dressing Up Ignorance... is not enlightenment of God. After all, God is the smartest thing, right?
Does He want you using wily crowd control on sheep? Is THAT feeding them? It just leads them to vote for a mesmerizing politician, a statist, a socialist, even un-American Marxism...
Think about it. You use crowd control Nuero-Linguistic Programming (NLP) on your sheep, your sheep can't detect it in government agencies that enslave them.... or in business practices that enslave them.
You become part of a triumvirate of evil... government, religion and media/business... that use NLP shenanigans to control people.
Now, Pastor X, Western Enlightenment came from the Jews, who even today, the best of, would see through your NLP mesmerization techniques.... But NOT your audience! OUCH!
You've dumbed down your audience to be mesmerized by shenanigans... OUCH!
Western Enlightenment says we must lead people out of the chaos of life with the abstract wisdom of the ages, wisdom which is essentially learnable and finite in the sense it covers the bases of man's chaotic dilemmas....
But you preach mesmerization and crowd control. UGH, UGH, UGH.
Western Enlightenment says we take this "abstract wisdom of the ages" we learned from higher education (hopefully that includes the pulpit -- but not your pulpit right now!); then take the facts of our problems or chaos in life... and make rational decisions.... to obtain enlightened victory.
We thus use ancient wisdom to fix today's problems... that are not any different than ancient man's problems.
But you use too much mesmerization and crowd control to even begin to address the problem...
The first thing, teach your sheep YOUR OWN SHENANIGAN techniques... that they become AWARE of such... AVOID such.... Even CALL OUT other preachers (at Morningstar and elsewhere) so that the modern church gets back to higher truths...
And the highest truths are John 14:20, wherein we are indwelt by the Godhead...
BUT, indwelling comes at EXTREMELY LOW levels when you preach and mesmerize.
God cannot indwell the deceived (and especially the deceivers) at high levels. Only low levels.
So.. can you reset?
Hoping all in Christ,
Robert Winkler Burke
Reno, Nevada
775-690-7293
I am a Man of the Cloth
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 9/28/08
I went to the convenience store,
To buy a Diet Envy-Me Coke,
And to get me a smoke,
A Golden Cancer Prosperity Cigar!
Funny thing was, the man said to me clear,
We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
No sir, We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
He says to me, We got a special:
One hundred percent off,
That means to you it’s for free!
Humble pie, cases and cases, piled to the sky,
That means it’s all you can eat!
I says to him, You got anything else?
He says, I got a box of Orthodox Soap.
You got to be kiddin’ man, that’s not for me!
Maybe it’d work on the Pope!
Nah, it ain’t for the Pope,
It’s for you, Man of the Cloth,
Now this guy’s giving me ministry!
He says, The pie and the soap,
It ain’t no joke,
Heaven hopes it’ll set you free.
I gets out of there fast,
I go to my friend,
My Everything’s Cool Christian Saint.
I says, Gimme a little bag,
No make it big, friend,
Of Lung Bustin’, Seeker Friendly Mary Jane!
Funny thing was, the man said to me clear,
We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
No sir, We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
He says to me, We got a special:
One hundred percent off,
That means to you it’s for free!
Humble pie, cases and cases, piled to the sky,
That means it’s all you can eat!
I says to him, You got anything else?
He says, I got a box of Orthodox Soap.
You got to be kiddin’ man, that’s not for me!
Maybe it’d work on the Pope!
Nah, it ain’t for the Pope,
It’s for you, Man of the Cloth,
Now this guy’s giving me ministry!
He says, The pie and the soap,
It ain’t no joke,
Heaven hopes it’ll set you free.
I gets out of there fast,
I go to my liquor store,
I says, Gimme a six pack,
No make it four,
Of Kick Me Rapture Fear Beer!
Funny thing was, the man said to me clear,
We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
No sir, We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
He says to me, We got a special:
One hundred percent off,
That means to you it’s for free!
Humble pie, cases and cases, piled to the sky,
That means it’s all you can eat!
I says to him, You got anything else?
He says, I got a box of Orthodox Soap.
You got to be kiddin’ man, that’s not for me!
Maybe it’d work on the Pope!
Nah, it ain’t for the Pope,
It’s for you, Man of the Cloth,
Now this guy’s giving me ministry!
He says, The pie and the soap,
It ain’t no joke,
Heaven hopes it’ll set you free.
I gets out of there fast,
I go to my natural food store,
I says, Gimme a big pot,
No make it two more,
Of Rainbow Prophecy Rat Stew!
Funny thing was, the man said to me clear,
We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
No sir, We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
He says to me, We got a special:
One hundred percent off,
That means to you it’s for free!
Humble pie, cases and cases, piled to the sky,
That means it’s all you can eat!
I says to him, You got anything else?
He says, I got a box of Orthodox Soap.
You got to be kiddin’ man, that’s not for me!
Maybe it’d work on the Pope!
Nah, it ain’t for the Pope,
It’s for you, Man of the Cloth,
Now this guy’s giving me ministry!
He says, The pie and the soap,
It ain’t no joke,
Heaven hopes it’ll set you free.
I gets out of there fast,
I go to my favorite bar,
I says, Gimme a glass,
No make it a jar,
Of Worship Weakness Praise Whiskey!
Funny thing was, the man said to me clear,
We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
No sir, We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
He says to me, We got a special:
One hundred percent off,
That means to you it’s for free!
Humble pie, cases and cases, piled to the sky,
That means it’s all you can eat!
I says to him, You got anything else?
He says, I got a box of Orthodox Soap.
You got to be kiddin’ man, that’s not for me!
Maybe it’d work on the Pope!
Nah, it ain’t for the Pope,
It’s for you, Man of the Cloth,
Now this guy’s giving me ministry!
He says, The pie and the soap,
It ain’t no joke,
Heaven hopes it’ll set you free.
I gets out of there fast,
I go to my pharmacy friend, Jim,
Jim lets me in,
Sees the shape I’m in,
And he says, I know,
I know what you need!
You need Jabberwocky Tizzy, or Emotional Ecstasy,
Or Mojo-Jive Talking Witchcraft Control LSD,
Or Patronizing Platitude-Laced Bubblegum Drops,
Or Intellectual Glue-Sniff, or Ego Pander Schnapps!
Funny thing was, the man said to me clear,
We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
No sir, We ain’t got none of that old stuff, you hear?
He says to me, We got a special:
One hundred percent off,
That means to you it’s for free!
Humble pie, cases and cases, piled to the sky,
That means it’s all you can eat!
I says to him, You got anything else?
He says, I got a box of Orthodox Soap.
You got to be kiddin’ man, that’s not for me!
Maybe it’d work on the Pope!
Nah, it ain’t for the Pope,
It’s for you, Man of the Cloth,
Now this guy’s giving me ministry!
He says, The pie and the soap,
It ain’t no joke,
Heaven hopes it’ll set you free.
I says,
I know what I’m immersed in,
I can’t let something else in,
No Humble Pie or Orthodox Soap.
That’s for petty dictators,
Mental abusers and sheep-rapers,
Bug off! I’m a Man of the Cloth!
With your pie and your soap,
You give me no hope,
You want me to watch what spirits I am of?
That’s never for me, it’s for you,
And for who I preach to,
Bug off! I’m a Man of the Cloth!
You eat your own Humble Pie,
Certainly not I,
And wash yourself with Orthodox Soap,
Deal with your inner demons, they are my only friends,
I need change like a hangman needs rope.
Bug off! I’m a Man of the Cloth!
Changing Your Entrance
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/17/09
W ant to change the entrance,
To your home?
Forgive, forgive, forgive,
Leave vengeance alone!
Be soft, soft, soft,
In life’s hard troubles,
Break up, bust, burst,
Ego’s old bubbles.
Sing Hallelujah,
No one gets out alive!
Stiff-necked rigid,
Life is just jive.
If you thus change doors,
To your home’s entrance,
God comes inside to love,
Live, laugh and dance.
Surviving the Ignorant Uncorrectables
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/16/09
S ad to say,
And it gives me no pleasure,
Some leaders,
This moment, this hour…
Ignorant of yesterday’s blood-sacrifice lessons,
Ignorant of ancient time-tested truths,
Ignorant of how great-indwelt of God man can be,
Proclaiming famed intellect is their ruse.
Until mugged, the mugger’s great champion,
Until enslaved, the slave shackler,
Until humbled by man, God and Devil,
The cause of epic, human disaster.
The deniers of the greatest revelation,
That God lives in man, His creation,
The propagandist of the greatest lie,
Survival of fittest means others must die.
Unenlightened, ignorant uncorrectables must live,
All lesser others must die?
That the indwelt of good depopulate earth,
And never ask why?
The ignorant uncorrectables,
Have themselves a blandishment trick,
They, being deceived, deceive well,
Diseasing multitudes yet appearing not sick.
Ages come,
And ages go,
Fiat paper worthless,
Gold always gold.
Why rail against darkness,
When gross darkness has completely now come?
Batten down the hatches,
Behold, oh world: Job’s unavoidable storm!
Not to prove you or I are right,
Or that the uncorrectables are wrong,
But that in self-restraint is liberty,
A lesson seven billion must learn strong.
Even if just half of the people of the world,
Believed in Lincoln’s, Jefferson’s and Moses’ precept,
Mutual dedication to self-restraint,
Then in liberty man would have his best days yet.
But first the mad uncorrectables,
Must rule and ruin their aureate roost,
To disabuse the world of lies,
And give peace on earth its best boost.
Sanctimony dies hard,
Lies die harder,
But not all death is vain,
Truth lives farther.
Seeing Twenty Feet Below
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/14/09
T wenty feet below the water,
I managed the boiler room,
Twenty feet below the water,
I made my ship to zoom!
But the captain hit an iceberg,
All hands but one died,
I thank God I’m a Christian,
I thank God I am alive!
Twenty feet below the water,
I worked the boiler of another ship,
But my next near-sighted captain,
Full speed, into another berg ripped!
Again, in freezing water,
I had to plunge,
Pledging near-sighted captains,
I would expunge!
But when I got another job,
Twenty feet below,
The captain hit a tanker,
Causing us to blow!
Fire consumed everything,
Know not how I lived,
All I know now is,
Life is such a gift!
Twenty feet below the water,
Is not the place to be,
When captains of the ships,
Are blind and cannot see!
So you want to be a captain?
Said the Lord of the ships,
My captains are crazy cowboys,
Shooting from their hips!
Why don’t you stay on land,
And manage my farms,
My captains run into things,
Causing insufferable harms.
Twenty feet above the ground,
Now I harvest much fruit,
Tall trees loaded with abundance,
I’ve never seen such loot!
The sad thing is,
We take the fruit to the docks,
And load up ships,
That will sink, burn or be lost!
Such is life today,
All around the planet,
With cosmic captains who,
Fix themselves cannot.
The Lord of field and sea,
Lets the captains fail,
Until their pride is overturned,
And they see and wail.
For until they fail they,
Cannot see,
So the Lord in wisdom,
Let’s them be!
The seeing are therefore cursed,
‘Cause they see too early,
God protects their precious minds,
For he loves them dearly.
But captains are still powerful,
Crazy though they be,
If not sailing ever madly,
They kill all who see.
Therefore seers must now: be still,
Seers must now: be quiet!
For the world’s ultimate good,
The blind now rule and riot!
Low-Hanging Fruit
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/5/09
I paid one hundred-fifty dollars,
To pick me some fruit,
At Rapture-Me-Farms , but worms,
In the fruit made the point moot!
So I paid five hundred dollars,
To pick me a ripe melon,
At Prosper-Me-Swamp , but maggots,
Spoilt the melons a-sellin’!
So I paid a thousand bucks,
To buy me some beef on the hoof,
At End-Times-Ranch , but cancer,
Was taking each cow like a wolf.!
So I paid ten million dollars ,
To buy me some prophetic lands,
To sell something to others! But,
Others had robbed my customers’ hands!
So I went home and saw in my yard,
A tree in the back had littered the ground,
With pears ! Which my two dogs ate,
And I thought, unbeknownst, I had fruit profound!
Let this sad tale of low-hanging fruit,
Settle deep within,
A billion dollar industry takes away awareness,
Of true God-bearing!
Is God’s return,
Based upon money?
If that is true,
Then your God’s funny!
Pardon the harshness,
Of the previous line,
But the kingdom is or,
Isn’t: in you divine!
In you! Of course,
Is what I choose to see,
God, come quickly,
Living now: free in thee!
Once bolstered enough,
By God’s truth, faith and knowing,
Heaven on earth ,
Shall keep growing and growing!
And sellers of rotten fruit,
Bad meat and worse,
Will go away sad,
Empty of purse!
What Contrite-in-Spirit Prophets Sell
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/5/09
A nd what would poor-in-spirit,
Humble prophets sell?
The same that wise folk,
Might to you ever tell…
With self-restraint,
Be thou strong,
With life’s conn’ers,
Do not belong…
Be true, be kind,
Be good with love,
Do this man, woman,
Be thou above…
Be thou indwelt,
With all things good,
God thus in you,
With: all He should!
He should and He could,
But with most He can’t,
Because when it comes to it,
Most folk say, I shan’t!
True prophets can say and see,
God is come now!
Prophets for profit can see,
No God now how!
Is man in God,
And God in man?
Answer yourself,
Now or when again?
Then, is that all there is?
You might as well ask,
Calibrate indwelling,
That’s our great task!
What the Prophets of Profit Say
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/4/09
R apture prophets say,
Doom is neigh,
But before you fly,
My book buy!
Prosperity prophets say,
Big riches are neigh,
But before things you buy,
Sow seed to my lie!
Statist prophets say,
You may be poor now,
Find money somehow,
That we tax it, Pow!
Entertainer prophets say,
Things are surely a mess,
Buy my verse, song or ticket,
To forget your wretchedness!
“He’s coming!” prophets say,
Well, He ain’t come yet,
Nevertheless, pay me now,
And support my bet!
The poor prophets say,
Truth is now,
And God is truth,
Just see how…
See the ultimate,
Con of all our ages,
Today’s page a lie,
Foretelling more pages.
Disrespecting, rejecting,
God and truth come in man,
Conning prophets supplying,
All else to misunderstand.
The low road,
To riches is populated,
With dumb lies,
And gullible doom-fated.
Come ye, all,
To the high road of God-indwelling,
The air: clean,
And charged with I-AM-no-selling!
I Dreamt I was Moses
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/4/09
I dreamt I was Moses,
While sleeping in my room,
God said, What you need,
Is Pharaoh as buffoon!
A wise one won’t do now,
The foolish would revolt,
You need a real grandiloquent,
To give this world a jolt!
Pray for your fool-king,
Whose head, not heart, I hardened,
Pray for your sad world,
For century has not hearkened…
For over a hundred years,
Satan’s plan has been in full effect,
Controlling school and culture,
Making the mind of thought a wreck.
Behold, now fool as king,
With empowered school-culture desires!
Learn, oh earth, mad it is,
Loving lies’ result: foul, destroying fires!
I dreamt that I was ancient Moses,
I awoke with my shirt soaked in sweat,
God said, Fools shall fix indurate,
By their mistakes, love of hard truths yet!
When Times’ Ends Justify Means
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/3/09
I tell you, oh sons of warriors,
Oh daughters of queens,
High wisdom, high knowledge,
Not base, nor mean things.
A sudden comes to mortals: lo !
Modern yet rococo events,
When gross stupidity and darkness,
From mankind is violent rent.
I’m speaking of the Twenty-First Century,
Not a prehistoric, forgotten time long past,
But when a blind, bipolar, aureate culture,
Unbenownst: swapped evil for good mask.
A pernicious darkness covers the land,
And gross darkness people’s animating spirit,
Such that precious few Truth can hear,
Whereas: multitudes can in no ways bear it!
Even now, if a little mouse of truth,
Enters the common room,
The cult of brain-washed, rigid correct,
Reaches for stick or broom!
The solution, my brothers and sisters,
Is to embrace what will come,
Gargantuan rodent catastrophes,
Big enough to get lies undone.
So, I asked our true God,
What it will actually take,
To make brains one-eighty,
How much shake to shake?
Me heard, me thinks, nay: me surely knows,
And knows full well,
To improve this planet’s thinking must come,
Nothing short of hell.
Nothing short of hell it will take,
To get the job done,
Of changing nations of lie-lovers,
To loving right as one.
Oh, sons of great warriors,
Daughters of fairest queens,
When God teaches global truth,
His ends justify means.
No mortal can justify all actions,
To satisfy ends,
But we must fear our holy God,
And His holy whims.
The cause of God is to bring,
Heaven, in fact, down to earth,
He’ll let us raise up all hell,
To change our soul’s worth.
For now if the few wise souls among us,
Were allowed to be in charge,
Defenestrated! they’d be by the mob,
That preys to have hell enlarged.
God, in His wisdom, will let us keep raising up hell,
And that is the point, it is what we now have,
And what we have, will prove profound truths well,
To put Truth in souls! and on eyes, eye salve!
Yes, hell come now,
Or coming soon,
In the end, when gone,
Will be man’s boon.
And man and the nations,
Will be exceptional,
At one with each other,
In liberty, with God well.
Yes, it will come down to liberty,
Liberty and love,
Mutual, dedicated self-restraint,
Come from above.
Again: What will make this heaven? Aye, now!
The rub is: It’ll be made by hell,
Brave warriors, dear queens: Survive it,
And your lads and lasses shall fare well!
The Holy Can-Can vs. the Unjust Can’t-Can’t
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/1/09
O ft in spirit matters:
What can’t in the future ever happen,
Can’t have ever in the past happened,
But what can in the future happen,
Can be what forever,
Once has.
Thus nukes blown in anger,
Pastors revealed as raptor,
Or government as captor,
Can now be happening again.
While Martians landing,
Truth not standing,
Or lies countermanding,
Truly can’t be…
Because in all,
Records of history,
There has never,
Been such,,
That ever,
Once was
Further, no Mohammed,
And no Buddha, brother,
Has lived again, so in man,
They definitely shan’t!
But Jesus lived,
And again lives!
And no one should believe,
That now in us He can’t!
Thus we know what can happen,
Can happen again as before,
But what can’t happen is what,
Can’t have happened in lore.
So leave off what can’t ,
Have happened and can’t today,
Sufficient is the challenge to believe,
What can have been again can be!
Spiritually,
What can’t,
Have been,
Can’t again,
But what,
Can, can!
And what is there to know of,
This wisdom so abbreviated?
No God-indwelling of wrong-doxied,
But God lives in the truth-satiated!
Thus:
God can live in those He can ,
And can’t in those He can’t ,
By our love of truth or lies,
He lives in us or shan’t!
Bills of Attainder Explain the Spiritually Blind
By Robert Winkler Burke
Of inthatdayteachings.com
Copyright 10/1/09
L isten, oh you who want to truly see,
Of this story from wisdom’s lonely tree.
As a bill of attainder removes inheritances and rank,
Through corruption of blood ,
Belief in wrong doctrines removes sight and sense,
Through disconnection above.
Do you want to truly see beyond sight?
Then believe, believe doctrines right!
Now bills of attainder are outlawed,
In most lands,
But blindness born of wrong doxie,
Justice demands.
Proud of wrong doctrines maintained?
Escape from blindness won’t be gained.
A bill of attainder was legislative punishment,
Made after a crime,
Spiritual blindness is just treatment due to pride,
And puerility’s grime.
Is your family unsighted?
Is their doctrine blighted?
Oh God, release the souls now stuck,
In Satan’s various depravities,
And grow their souls in maturity,
And humble precepts’ verities.
Shall the one-eyed lord themselves over crowds blind and bad-doctrine strong?
No, we shall pray for spiritual eyes for all to get victory over self’s own wrong.
Bills of attainder wiped out wherewithal,
Of the indicted and family,
Spiritual blindness, in fact, does no less,
Now on earth and eternity.
God, if you give us sight then why?
Why, if we can’t help beloved neigh?
The gift of sight and requisite humility,
Is better than gold,
Both must be used in mature wisdom,
To bring in God’s fold.
