There must be a better way,
To campaign the Lord’s will,
Than the cheap, dishonest “prosperity” feign,
Such preachers rob the till.
They entrap sucker believers to give-to-get,
Themselves the gettings deposited direct,
While promising believers multifold upping of the bet,
Just how, they conveniently neglect.
So flush, full of cash preachers campaign,
Whatever it is they do.
But at what loss and at what gain,
When all is done and through?
They break the very honor of their character,
By cheap prosperity wile,
Then believe a break-up-in-process character,
Can then make God smile.
God cares about our souls for Himself to inhabit,
This today is His goal.
No rich but desolate preacher can kingdom establish,
If sold he has his soul.
So woe is us and woe is me,
We forsake the cheap prosperity trap,
We get our gettings honestly,
At higher place on God’s kingdom map.
Like the Jews Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,
We believe we will be saved,
Not by giving or getting as cheap faith mantras go,
But by spirit process ravaged.
Where our faith becomes not so simple:
If you believe this, then that.
Rather if you excise dogma infantile,
God frees us from logic format.
We become free to be who God wants us to be,
And astonishingly, that’s anything,
He calls us to be at His will and caprice,
Songbird in cage or eagle at wing.
Just when we think life to us won’t come,
Jesus comes quickly in love,
And reminds us our thoughts aren’t God’s sum,
His way – not ours – is above.
And money comes to us like air,
Don’t exactly ask me how.
When we put character first it’s fair,
Let God take the bow.
David said he never saw the righteous begging bread,
That’s what prosperity preachers do,
They extort and have excess by tricking your head,
That only by blessing them will God bless you.
But curse their money and curse their lust,
Curse their gilded, false shibboleths,
If we see and hear as they, our senses are lost!
(They make with God the wrong bets.)
The answer isn’t doing what prosperity preachers do,
Of this I am quite sure.
The old mind traps of Satan fail, they are never true,
True faith is to endure.
There once were some honest televangelists,
Who had amazing perspective.
They said they had compromised to get on air,
Yet stayed with God respective.
My God, they asked, Have we sold our souls,
To fund cameras and time?
How can we be pure, or true or plain,
When we’ve begged for every dime?
But God loved these men who had a clue,
Of what keeps real men honest.
Other global ministers of pride were undone,
Not seeing trees for the forest.
God searches the world whom He can make great,
But can keep pride away.
Instead people rush to fame, fortune and glory,
And lose sanity day by day.
Hurray for the broken men God raises up,
Who can be trusted with power.
Who needs proud leaders consumed with themselves?
Answer: No one at this late hour.
So let humble televangelists forge a new way,
With true doxie for tomorrow.
The old proud ones can’t discern their lying dogmas,
And create nothing but sorrow.
They say give-to-get, await a rapture, fear the beast,
And glorify me and my ministry!
The pig-headed fools know not of what they speak,
They ignore God’s great mystery.
The mystery of God is Galatians one: twenty-six,
Christ comes quickly to live in you and me.
But never with wrong thoughts, never with pride,
Not like today’s televangelists like to be.
So a new order of televangelists must come around,
To humility and honest truth.
What have we done wrong? Where have we erred?
They must ask what to forsooth.
And then, and then with humility and critique,
God’s soldiers of world broadcast,
Can fix themselves, turn their losses to gain,
And deliver the world truth at last.
For God will forgive the miscreant dummkopfs,
So proud to be wayward shepherds today.
He lets them beat themselves up in absurdities,
Until they repent and find God’s new way.
The new humble televangelists will be a marvel,
Truly, a delight to behold.
I could be wrong, correct me, help me, they’ll say,
And this will never grow old.
New and greater truths of God will come to such men,
Who bow their heads in humility,
And say, Power makes us blind, money greedy and fame proud,
Help us Lord, oh help us to see!
They’ll say, Give us no accolades, we shuck off all glory,
Let us of all vanity make recants,
God will bless such shepherds to our truth-starved world,
They’ll hear, Well done, my servants!
We already know we need salvation and we don’t need a failed poet to tell us by Shoulder Monkey
Mr Winkler sadly forgot
the words of Paul the servant of God
who reminded saints of His desire
for us to focus on things much higher
than searching for a bad report
or sowing the seeds of sad discord
So what did Paul have to say to us
to help us break away from disgust
and rather than search for bad in men
find a way to draw them in
to the love of God, His grace and cross?
Paul drew a breath then spoke thus…
“Brethren
Whatever things are true
Whatever things are noble
Whatever things are just
Whatever things are pure
Whatever things are lovely
Whatever things are of good report
If there is any virtue
If there is anything praiseworthy
Meditate on these things.”
So who nominates that some proud fool
should be appointed to judge us all
when it’s the truth we’re all called equal
pitiful, broken, lost, poor people
each of us the same in need
each of us judged for our own deeds?
So why would anyone be called out
to tell us what we knew no doubt
that we’re all sinners in need of a Saviour
who paid the price of our behaviour
and gave His life so we could live
in righteousness which is His to give?
No, we all know that we are wrong
We don’t need Winkler to sing that song
better to listen to Paul’s instruction
to point us in the right direction
better to speak what God has done
than point the finger at everyone
But, sadly, he moans, and on and on
can’t see good in anyone
no kind words or gentle encouragement
only barbs and darts and discouragement
Still we need to see the good
even in his neighbourhood
Mr Winkler must have some virtues
maybe he could write a line or two
Because, if he is able to judge us thus
he must, himself. be so righteous
so, please Mr Winkler let us read
a good report of your own deeds
Of your perfection, greatness or flair
to cheer us up in our despair
so we can see just how it’s done
by you, the perfect, all-impressive one
Blindly Inglorious, Proudly Incurious
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #6 of In That Day Teachings
12/15/09 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
Modern 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!
What’s too Big to be Humble or Indwelt?
What’s too Big to be Humble or Indwelt?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #6 of In That Day Teachings
12/16/09 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
The 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!
The Ubiquitous Pan-Orthodox Rebellion
The Ubiquitous Pan-Orthodox Rebellion
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #6 of In That Day Teachings
12/18/09 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
The 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 does it profit me O querulous ape
to say He parted the sea and let Israel escape?
And not raise a finger when the government goats
are beating their chests to turn back the boats
Or to believe that He relieves the oppressed
and that the poor and needy will be blessed
Yet even cheer on when our earthly masters
invade whole countries with their blasters
Yes its possible to get much richer
By selling sermons about the scripture
And convince others you have not a doubt
And somehow miss what its all about.
An uncertain future by Monkey’s Uncle (translated from the original texts by Shoulder Monkey)
“i can’t believe it” said the doubter
“the Bible’s just a myth to me
i’d rather be uncertain
in my world of guess the mystery
God’s creation, and His miracles
the healings and the wonders
are too much to get my mind around
or or even try to ponder
you see
i’d have to agree
with the parting of the sea
i’d have to recognise
He gives sight to blind eyes
i’d have to concur
with walking on the water
i’d have to acquiesce
that He relieves the oppressed
i’d have to go along
with the feeding of the throng
i’d have to get my head
around the raising of the dead
i’d have to concede
that he meets every need
i’d have to confess
that it’s God’s will to bless
in short
i’d have to give the nod
to the brilliance of God”
A Fundamentalist or so I’ve heard
Prided himself on standing on the word
So stand he would for Jesus’ sake
Upon a Bible perched above the lake
‘What a fortunate man am I’
said the Fundie as he would spy
A large mass of people floating dementedly
Around in a great sea of uncertainty
‘At least I have something to stand on’ he said
When all others seem to be out of their head
But then his stance began to tumble
As under the Bible he heard a great rumble
And the fundie looked down and got quite a shock
For something was undermining the rock
That he had relied on for all of these years
The fear of it all nearly brought him to tears
But he got it together and found the commotion
Was caused by a theory they called “Evolution”
Said he ‘My Bible must not be allowed to decline
The great Rock that I’ve stood on for all of this time’
So valiantly he fought and some armour he donned
and he fenced off the lake and made a small pond
And he was happy there with his disciples
All of them standing alone on their Bibles
But then the others through some aberration
Began to disagree with his interpretation
Orthodox, Calvinists, Liberals and other tribals
All had their own particular views on their Bibles
And then a voice came as if God had planned it
‘You’re not meant to stand on, you’re meant to understand it’
‘So come now, step off of your safety perch
Step out of the certainty of your small church’
‘And come and swim in the sea of uncertainty
what you had been avoiding is actually me’
I Bought the Broadcasters’ Philosopher’s Stone
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
3/5/09 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
The Philosopher’s Stone, the Philosopher’s Stone,
It will help you preach so exquisite well!
The Philosopher’s Stone, the Philosopher’s Stone,
It will help your Christian message sell!
My visitor was a short black man,
In a worn-out black suit,
Black bowler, black tie, black shirt,
His voice spoke deep in truth.
You sir, he said, want to be a broadcast preacher,
Am I not right?
You want donations to fund your airtime costs,
Who needs a fight?
You need the Philosopher’s Stone,
And all things will turn out well,
In my black bag I’ve got one here,
Which you will buy, I will sell.
Now hold on here! Sir, I said,
You are quite bold and imprudent,
I know a little bit of history,
Not nothing I learned as student.
The Philosopher’s Stone is mythical,
A story from day’s gone past,
A magic elixir potion that makes,
Victorious solutions fast.
There is no stone as you describe,
Don’t think you can sell one to me,
I don’t believe you or that bag,
Though what’s in it, I’d like to see.
The little black man smiled and said,
You’ll see what’s in my black bag soon enough,
But first, let’s get your eyes open,
And look at broadcast religion in buff.
The cold, hard, naked truth is that,
Broadcasting sermons costs many millions,
Not like your church’s paltry donations,
But done right, you might make billions!
Billions? I asked. He said, That’s right,
Billions with a “B!”
Just sit on your hands for a minute,
And listen to me.
Whatever you preach, I don’t care,
You need to sell a certain, crafty solution,
Whatever you preach, say it has power,
By viewer’s donation, of a mystic potion!
You’ll have to make viewers believe,
Just a monthly check or credit card withdrawal,
Will fix whatever ills their soul,
Body, spirit or sap enterprise withal.
Without saying so, you will sell, my friend,
The witchy-magic Philosopher’s Stone,
It is the unspoken thing you sell, they buy,
That will fund your jet, bank and ritzy home.
Now here’s the deal, my time is short,
So let’s get to the quick,
You buy this stone in my bag so viewers,
Fund its dream of instant fix.
You don’t ever give them this stone or copy,
Or anything like that,
You keep your stone hidden in dark back office,
To work like magic hat.
I was beginning to get the picture,
And I grinned like a lusty fool,
So that’s how they do it! I laughed,
My competition has this tool?
Almost all of them, now you see, my salesman said,
Have a certified hellacious Philosopher’s Stone copy,
As you will in a minute, after signing here in red,
To fast sail your broadcast work in waters unchoppy!
What does the contract say? I asked,
And what does this dear stone look like?
It says, he said, you sell your soul to Satan,
And you will be rich as rich is right!
I signed the paper, shirt soaked with sweat,
I couldn’t wait to see this great Philosopher’s Stone!
Which has made me richer than I dreamed:
It is a fist clinched tight, but for middle finger bone.
The skeleton middle finger points straight, defiant,
Giving the universal sign,
Man deluded thinks he rules o’er slaves compliant,
Donate to my program fine!
I preach God is certainly sovereign,
He alone grants whatever He grants!
But that’s not how I get donations,
I say, YOU can wear fate’s pants!
Donate to my gospel thick,
My sacred self-dealing message new!
And you will have real quick,
All your selfish dreams come true!
It doesn’t matter what I preach,
Possessing, as I do, my Broadcasters’ Philosopher’s Stone,
Bottom line: I sell fearless greed,
Just donate to any like me, and what’s mine is in your home!
Well look here people
Take some truth
You don’t have to prosper
If you don’t want to
It’s just that
God offers
in His providence
and by His grace
His covenant
and that means for us
that He’s arranged
something called
the Great Exchange
what’s His is yours
and yours is His
I think that’s called
being blessed
with love and peace
and grace and hope
and the things
that lift us up
to Him…
…through the cross
by His grace
In His mercy
In our place
The Great Exchange
So be poor and broke
and empty for sure
but don’t forget
the mercy door
where the only way in
is admit your need
bow your knee
and release to Him
all poverty
know for sure
that He’s arranged
something called
the Great Exchange
what’s His is yours
and yours is His
I think that’s called
being blessed
with love and peace
and grace and hope
and the things
that lift us up
to Him…
…through the cross
by His grace
In His mercy
In our place
The Great Exchange
And without contradiction
it must be said
that the lesser
is blessed
by the Greater
How Do You (!) Preclude the Need for an Oracle-Prophet?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #10 of In That Day Teachings
7/07/13 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
How did you preclude the need,
For a rebuking, chastising, good-old-fashioned, eccentric: oracle-prophet?
Oh preacher, who died in deed,
What’ll we do with you? You thought heaven was stuck in your pocket?
Yes sir, kind angel, blocking me at heaven’s gates!
Me and my kind were pretty self-righteous sure of ourselves,
We know. You’re the kind that full exasperates!
Your Churchianity did a sublime facsimile of various hells.
This I now know! I know, kind angel!
First, I served up Rapture’s fear! It is how I gained control,
You bent many sheep off angle!
Yes! But then I stopped! I offered prosperity for each soul!
And greed. Don’t forget greed!
Yes, kind angel. After I got ultra rich, I saw that! I saw that!
And greed grew in sheep’s seed!
Uhm, sorry about that! Here, you forgave my sheep of that?
Never mind whom we let in, despite wrong teaching!
You, sir, saw you were first fear, then greed preaching?
Yes, kind angel, I itched each ear’s strong itching!
That’s why I turned emergent: supine-laziness seeking!
And so you turned from fear and greed to supremely indolent-lazy?
Sorry angel, on Earth I couldn’t admit such sin, but here: I can!
And you see bad emotions make Christ-in-You undoable: crazy?
Yes, angel, I see that now! Fear, greed, slouch: whatta sham!
Yet, you still haven’t told us,
How did you preclude the need for a correcting prophet?
I shan’t miss heaven’s bus!
I remember this poet, his poems! Alive, I mocked it!
He strongly believed in a time now called In That Day,
When leaders, purged of sub-textual sin, normally never seen!
Along with Western Enlightenment’s correcting way,
Would remove our era’s mind-enslavement Mandarin queens!
Why, we leaders in church liked sharing powers with politicos,
We, ourselves, were raised in progressive mind-muck schools!
And that poet-prophet told us we were enslavers of every nose,
Enslavers of the mind, we were kings with our own bad rules!
And what did this poet-prophet say about your rigid-fixed rules?
He said sub-taught leaders use rules to box-trap sheep!
He said there are guidelines, no rules; God wants no blind fools!
So we hated him. Our tithe rules we had, yes, to keep!
This prophet-poet seemed to have trust and confidence, yes confidence!
That sheep didn’t need kings, nor con’ers nor progressive-elite rulers!
He said Christ-in-You came, with talents, to minds not raped, not dense!
But we leaders doubled-down on being ever greater-great foolers!
This, in heaven, we all know,
You as a preacher, were like any other Joe,
Christ-in-You: you loathed!
You precluded the need for a prophet, so…
BOOM! CRASH! BANG!
Here! Oh angel, comes my church’s Praise Bus!
It’s my gang! Gang!
Rock on! Rock on! Jesus did it all for us!
And now come legions of my lost!
We avoided correction at all cost!
Forever, we’ll sing with Faust!
Never, by God, will we be bossed!
And so our dear, kind angel,
Left that section, made temporary to look like heaven, not hell,
All shall get their angle,
All precluding the need of any correction: don’t turn out well.
But the other poor Joe’s,
Next door, in hell, to that most perdition-bedeviled section,
Complained of noise, so,
Were, by Mercy, let in to heaven’s most perfect election!
God, then, really hates those,
Who hate Christ-in-You,
He comes! He doth choose!
Now, what will you do?
i am the reacher into gossip
my theme is poverty
all hope for poor and broken men
marred by my sophistry
i’d like one day to be a poet
but my prose annoys
anyone with half a brain
who sees right through my ploy
of making sure i put folk down
and never build their case
i see their back and bite it hard
afraid to seek their face
to tell them that God loves them true
or wants to help them break on through
or lift them from their deep despair
and bring them into his holy care
so if you think i’ll ever agree
that God might offer prosperity
or hope or joy or liberty
think again
i’m misery
and i have a rhyme for you
i’m like that angry jonah who
hated telling nineveh
God’s deliverance was at hand
if they repented in that day
and God would heal them
seal them in his love and peace
prosper homes and families
cause their pain to cease
but he like me would rather curse
than bring deliverance to the earth
or hope or joy or liberty
think again
i’m misery
and i have a rhyme for you
Beautiful bank robbers,
They stole from you and me,
Beautiful bank robbers,
With mansions by the sea.
Beautiful bank robber couples,
So fabulously in love,
We admire their plastic features,
And how their doctors dug.
Beautiful bank robbers,
Say, You can be like me,
And have other people admire,
Your mansion by the sea.
Beautiful bank robbers,
Each must have their jet,
They have their lovely ways,
Of getting what they get.
Nothing is too good,
For bank robbers by the sea,
Better than good is perfect,
To sell greed so lustily.
Beautiful bank robbers,
How they will rot in hell,
For being so beautiful,
And lying perfect well.
The Ten-Trillionaire Televangelist
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
4/26/2009 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
When he drew a boundary for Sea,
posted a sign that said no trespassing,
(The Message Proverbs 8:29)
One day a televangelist appeared on the scene,
He was handsome, charismatic, lean, not mean.
He said, Hello World! Give me your tithes!
He broadcast a wild show, it was quite a ride.
To one hundred-forty nations his show was sent,
From one hundred-forty nations came tithes’ ten percent.
At that time the world’s income was one hundred trillion,
And, by golly, he received ten-thousand billion!
Ten-thousand billion was his wonderful income,
Which was ten trillion, give or take a million.
As he had more cash than any known government,
Ambassadors from the US and China were sent.
Please help us, oh televangelist, they asked of him,
Would you buy us an aircraft carrier, or moon landing?
Our nations are broke, said ambassadors of the world,
Build us a freeway, or school, or tractor for field!
All the world’s excess cash has gone to you,
What, oh great man of God, with it will you do?
The world was quiet that day, waiting to hear,
What the richest man of God would say sincere.
But he said, Sorry to inform you, oh ambassadors,
I spent it all on myself, and perfume for my whores.
Did you think I’m not subject to the maxim,
Power corrupts: It did with my tithe taxing!
Don’t blame me for wasting all the world’s wealth,
To stop waste, oh world, keep your money yourself!
But honestly and quite frankly, since the world is so cotton-picking gullible,
I’ve decided to now become the world’s first quadrillion evangelist lovable!
But the government said, Well then, since you’ve given us the ax,
We declare that you’re a business, not church, and owe us great tax!
But the televangelist took off for new planets in his private starship rocket,
Proving no one could stop this televangelist on Earth from lining his pocket.
Group Sects 
There Must be a Better Shibboleth
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #3 of In That Day Teachings
9/4/08 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
There must be a better way,
To campaign the Lord’s will,
Than the cheap, dishonest “prosperity” feign,
Such preachers rob the till.
They entrap sucker believers to give-to-get,
Themselves the gettings deposited direct,
While promising believers multifold upping of the bet,
Just how, they conveniently neglect.
So flush, full of cash preachers campaign,
Whatever it is they do.
But at what loss and at what gain,
When all is done and through?
They break the very honor of their character,
By cheap prosperity wile,
Then believe a break-up-in-process character,
Can then make God smile.
God cares about our souls for Himself to inhabit,
This today is His goal.
No rich but desolate preacher can kingdom establish,
If sold he has his soul.
So woe is us and woe is me,
We forsake the cheap prosperity trap,
We get our gettings honestly,
At higher place on God’s kingdom map.
Like the Jews Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego,
We believe we will be saved,
Not by giving or getting as cheap faith mantras go,
But by spirit process ravaged.
Where our faith becomes not so simple:
If you believe this, then that.
Rather if you excise dogma infantile,
God frees us from logic format.
We become free to be who God wants us to be,
And astonishingly, that’s anything,
He calls us to be at His will and caprice,
Songbird in cage or eagle at wing.
Just when we think life to us won’t come,
Jesus comes quickly in love,
And reminds us our thoughts aren’t God’s sum,
His way – not ours – is above.
And money comes to us like air,
Don’t exactly ask me how.
When we put character first it’s fair,
Let God take the bow.
David said he never saw the righteous begging bread,
That’s what prosperity preachers do,
They extort and have excess by tricking your head,
That only by blessing them will God bless you.
But curse their money and curse their lust,
Curse their gilded, false shibboleths,
If we see and hear as they, our senses are lost!
(They make with God the wrong bets.)
The answer isn’t doing what prosperity preachers do,
Of this I am quite sure.
The old mind traps of Satan fail, they are never true,
True faith is to endure.
The Honest Televangelists
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #3 of In That Day Teachings
9/5/08 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
There once were some honest televangelists,
Who had amazing perspective.
They said they had compromised to get on air,
Yet stayed with God respective.
My God, they asked, Have we sold our souls,
To fund cameras and time?
How can we be pure, or true or plain,
When we’ve begged for every dime?
But God loved these men who had a clue,
Of what keeps real men honest.
Other global ministers of pride were undone,
Not seeing trees for the forest.
God searches the world whom He can make great,
But can keep pride away.
Instead people rush to fame, fortune and glory,
And lose sanity day by day.
Hurray for the broken men God raises up,
Who can be trusted with power.
Who needs proud leaders consumed with themselves?
Answer: No one at this late hour.
So let humble televangelists forge a new way,
With true doxie for tomorrow.
The old proud ones can’t discern their lying dogmas,
And create nothing but sorrow.
They say give-to-get, await a rapture, fear the beast,
And glorify me and my ministry!
The pig-headed fools know not of what they speak,
They ignore God’s great mystery.
The mystery of God is Galatians one: twenty-six,
Christ comes quickly to live in you and me.
But never with wrong thoughts, never with pride,
Not like today’s televangelists like to be.
So a new order of televangelists must come around,
To humility and honest truth.
What have we done wrong? Where have we erred?
They must ask what to forsooth.
And then, and then with humility and critique,
God’s soldiers of world broadcast,
Can fix themselves, turn their losses to gain,
And deliver the world truth at last.
For God will forgive the miscreant dummkopfs,
So proud to be wayward shepherds today.
He lets them beat themselves up in absurdities,
Until they repent and find God’s new way.
The new humble televangelists will be a marvel,
Truly, a delight to behold.
I could be wrong, correct me, help me, they’ll say,
And this will never grow old.
New and greater truths of God will come to such men,
Who bow their heads in humility,
And say, Power makes us blind, money greedy and fame proud,
Help us Lord, oh help us to see!
They’ll say, Give us no accolades, we shuck off all glory,
Let us of all vanity make recants,
God will bless such shepherds to our truth-starved world,
They’ll hear, Well done, my servants!
KING SELF MUST DIE!
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #3 of In That Day Teachings
2006 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
King Self held court one imperious day
Self said, Hear ye, agree to all I say!
Came reply,
Self must die!
Said something hid out of the way.
How dare you counter my royal command?
Nothing stops great Selves from being grand!
Do not lie!
Self must die!
Said the spirit in stern reprimand.
Anything but die!
Said Self in reply,
How can
Mere man
Kill his lovely I?
Eagles help do it,
They take Self thru’ it:
Getting in
Ripping sin
‘til your heart’s renewed!
You win, said Self
To sin I’m deaf
How know
I go?
My plans I shelf.
The spirit said, Great greetings!
Prepare now for faith meetings
With saints gone before
And angels of lore
And Him who has best seating!
You may think this odd
But to live in you God
Must be!
You see?
To finish Creation’s job.
Now all must be done
Becoming in sum:
Good,
Would
God’s new kingdom come!
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We already know we need salvation and we don’t need a failed poet to tell us
by Shoulder Monkey
Mr Winkler sadly forgot
the words of Paul the servant of God
who reminded saints of His desire
for us to focus on things much higher
than searching for a bad report
or sowing the seeds of sad discord
So what did Paul have to say to us
to help us break away from disgust
and rather than search for bad in men
find a way to draw them in
to the love of God, His grace and cross?
Paul drew a breath then spoke thus…
“Brethren
Whatever things are true
Whatever things are noble
Whatever things are just
Whatever things are pure
Whatever things are lovely
Whatever things are of good report
If there is any virtue
If there is anything praiseworthy
Meditate on these things.”
So who nominates that some proud fool
should be appointed to judge us all
when it’s the truth we’re all called equal
pitiful, broken, lost, poor people
each of us the same in need
each of us judged for our own deeds?
So why would anyone be called out
to tell us what we knew no doubt
that we’re all sinners in need of a Saviour
who paid the price of our behaviour
and gave His life so we could live
in righteousness which is His to give?
No, we all know that we are wrong
We don’t need Winkler to sing that song
better to listen to Paul’s instruction
to point us in the right direction
better to speak what God has done
than point the finger at everyone
But, sadly, he moans, and on and on
can’t see good in anyone
no kind words or gentle encouragement
only barbs and darts and discouragement
Still we need to see the good
even in his neighbourhood
Mr Winkler must have some virtues
maybe he could write a line or two
Because, if he is able to judge us thus
he must, himself. be so righteous
so, please Mr Winkler let us read
a good report of your own deeds
Of your perfection, greatness or flair
to cheer us up in our despair
so we can see just how it’s done
by you, the perfect, all-impressive one
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Blindly Inglorious, Proudly Incurious
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #6 of In That Day Teachings
12/15/09 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
Modern 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!
What’s too Big to be Humble or Indwelt?
What’s too Big to be Humble or Indwelt?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #6 of In That Day Teachings
12/16/09 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
The 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!
The Ubiquitous Pan-Orthodox Rebellion
The Ubiquitous Pan-Orthodox Rebellion
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #6 of In That Day Teachings
12/18/09 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
The 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!
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You can have it all
by Monkey Nuts (interpreted by Shoulder Monkey from the original texts)
The doubter, fixed on the glass half full,
Forgot the rest was available
Moaned about the air within
Instead of filling it again and again.
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What does it profit me O querulous ape
to say He parted the sea and let Israel escape?
And not raise a finger when the government goats
are beating their chests to turn back the boats
Or to believe that He relieves the oppressed
and that the poor and needy will be blessed
Yet even cheer on when our earthly masters
invade whole countries with their blasters
Yes its possible to get much richer
By selling sermons about the scripture
And convince others you have not a doubt
And somehow miss what its all about.
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An uncertain future
by Monkey’s Uncle (translated from the original texts by Shoulder Monkey)
“i can’t believe it” said the doubter
“the Bible’s just a myth to me
i’d rather be uncertain
in my world of guess the mystery
God’s creation, and His miracles
the healings and the wonders
are too much to get my mind around
or or even try to ponder
you see
i’d have to agree
with the parting of the sea
i’d have to recognise
He gives sight to blind eyes
i’d have to concur
with walking on the water
i’d have to acquiesce
that He relieves the oppressed
i’d have to go along
with the feeding of the throng
i’d have to get my head
around the raising of the dead
i’d have to concede
that he meets every need
i’d have to confess
that it’s God’s will to bless
in short
i’d have to give the nod
to the brilliance of God”
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Falling off the word
From Book #19 of “The Wisdom of Wazza”
18/6/1957
A Fundamentalist or so I’ve heard
Prided himself on standing on the word
So stand he would for Jesus’ sake
Upon a Bible perched above the lake
‘What a fortunate man am I’
said the Fundie as he would spy
A large mass of people floating dementedly
Around in a great sea of uncertainty
‘At least I have something to stand on’ he said
When all others seem to be out of their head
But then his stance began to tumble
As under the Bible he heard a great rumble
And the fundie looked down and got quite a shock
For something was undermining the rock
That he had relied on for all of these years
The fear of it all nearly brought him to tears
But he got it together and found the commotion
Was caused by a theory they called “Evolution”
Said he ‘My Bible must not be allowed to decline
The great Rock that I’ve stood on for all of this time’
So valiantly he fought and some armour he donned
and he fenced off the lake and made a small pond
And he was happy there with his disciples
All of them standing alone on their Bibles
But then the others through some aberration
Began to disagree with his interpretation
Orthodox, Calvinists, Liberals and other tribals
All had their own particular views on their Bibles
And then a voice came as if God had planned it
‘You’re not meant to stand on, you’re meant to understand it’
‘So come now, step off of your safety perch
Step out of the certainty of your small church’
‘And come and swim in the sea of uncertainty
what you had been avoiding is actually me’
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I Bought the Broadcasters’ Philosopher’s Stone
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
3/5/09 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
The Philosopher’s Stone, the Philosopher’s Stone,
It will help you preach so exquisite well!
The Philosopher’s Stone, the Philosopher’s Stone,
It will help your Christian message sell!
My visitor was a short black man,
In a worn-out black suit,
Black bowler, black tie, black shirt,
His voice spoke deep in truth.
You sir, he said, want to be a broadcast preacher,
Am I not right?
You want donations to fund your airtime costs,
Who needs a fight?
You need the Philosopher’s Stone,
And all things will turn out well,
In my black bag I’ve got one here,
Which you will buy, I will sell.
Now hold on here! Sir, I said,
You are quite bold and imprudent,
I know a little bit of history,
Not nothing I learned as student.
The Philosopher’s Stone is mythical,
A story from day’s gone past,
A magic elixir potion that makes,
Victorious solutions fast.
There is no stone as you describe,
Don’t think you can sell one to me,
I don’t believe you or that bag,
Though what’s in it, I’d like to see.
The little black man smiled and said,
You’ll see what’s in my black bag soon enough,
But first, let’s get your eyes open,
And look at broadcast religion in buff.
The cold, hard, naked truth is that,
Broadcasting sermons costs many millions,
Not like your church’s paltry donations,
But done right, you might make billions!
Billions? I asked. He said, That’s right,
Billions with a “B!”
Just sit on your hands for a minute,
And listen to me.
Whatever you preach, I don’t care,
You need to sell a certain, crafty solution,
Whatever you preach, say it has power,
By viewer’s donation, of a mystic potion!
You’ll have to make viewers believe,
Just a monthly check or credit card withdrawal,
Will fix whatever ills their soul,
Body, spirit or sap enterprise withal.
Without saying so, you will sell, my friend,
The witchy-magic Philosopher’s Stone,
It is the unspoken thing you sell, they buy,
That will fund your jet, bank and ritzy home.
Now here’s the deal, my time is short,
So let’s get to the quick,
You buy this stone in my bag so viewers,
Fund its dream of instant fix.
You don’t ever give them this stone or copy,
Or anything like that,
You keep your stone hidden in dark back office,
To work like magic hat.
I was beginning to get the picture,
And I grinned like a lusty fool,
So that’s how they do it! I laughed,
My competition has this tool?
Almost all of them, now you see, my salesman said,
Have a certified hellacious Philosopher’s Stone copy,
As you will in a minute, after signing here in red,
To fast sail your broadcast work in waters unchoppy!
What does the contract say? I asked,
And what does this dear stone look like?
It says, he said, you sell your soul to Satan,
And you will be rich as rich is right!
I signed the paper, shirt soaked with sweat,
I couldn’t wait to see this great Philosopher’s Stone!
Which has made me richer than I dreamed:
It is a fist clinched tight, but for middle finger bone.
The skeleton middle finger points straight, defiant,
Giving the universal sign,
Man deluded thinks he rules o’er slaves compliant,
Donate to my program fine!
I preach God is certainly sovereign,
He alone grants whatever He grants!
But that’s not how I get donations,
I say, YOU can wear fate’s pants!
Donate to my gospel thick,
My sacred self-dealing message new!
And you will have real quick,
All your selfish dreams come true!
It doesn’t matter what I preach,
Possessing, as I do, my Broadcasters’ Philosopher’s Stone,
Bottom line: I sell fearless greed,
Just donate to any like me, and what’s mine is in your home!
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Benny, no, we’ll not defend
Nor prosperity
But the right for all to live
Without poor poetry
But, look, pray tell, if life with God
Is paved with poverty
Why did His Son advise us all
To shun anxiety?
Why talk about the birds He feeds
The flowers He clothes so gay
If we’re to live in lack and loss
With no hope for each day
But Benny, well he’ll face his Go
When he, this earth, departs
But my defence is not for him
Put for the poet’s art
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That no name guy can see more about truth than Steve can.
Anyone who can’t see through that charlatan is clearly stupid, deluded or mad.
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Monkeys indulge in simian thought,
They’re not well developed,
So their minds come to nought.
They fancy such fruit as is quite over-ripe,
They waste all their time with prosperity tripe.
And although it’s quite clear their imaginings are vain,
They return, like dogs, to their vomit again.
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Standing on the Absurd
by Shoulder Monkey
Once, a liberal, so I heard
was advised to stand on the word
That’s easy, says he, with mounting glee,
I know that there’s a word for me.
So to his Bible the liberal went
and opened a page well word and spent
one word he found and uttered aloud
‘myth’ before he put the book down
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Defending the Indefensible
From Book #19 of “The teachings of Wazza”
2 January 1953
O Shepherd what must be your psychology
And where did you get such bizarre theology?
How can you twist so the words of the Master?
and make of your evangelism such a disaster
For its easier for a Camel to go through the eye of a needle
If its first greased and you can tolerate the evil
..of teaching others to seek after Mammon
instead of their own souls to examine
why they followed after the purveyors of hatred
and left a large part of their life to be wasted
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Ode to the Poem-Prophets
by Shoulder Monkey
Well look here people
Take some truth
You don’t have to prosper
If you don’t want to
It’s just that
God offers
in His providence
and by His grace
His covenant
and that means for us
that He’s arranged
something called
the Great Exchange
what’s His is yours
and yours is His
I think that’s called
being blessed
with love and peace
and grace and hope
and the things
that lift us up
to Him…
…through the cross
by His grace
In His mercy
In our place
The Great Exchange
So be poor and broke
and empty for sure
but don’t forget
the mercy door
where the only way in
is admit your need
bow your knee
and release to Him
all poverty
know for sure
that He’s arranged
something called
the Great Exchange
what’s His is yours
and yours is His
I think that’s called
being blessed
with love and peace
and grace and hope
and the things
that lift us up
to Him…
…through the cross
by His grace
In His mercy
In our place
The Great Exchange
And without contradiction
it must be said
that the lesser
is blessed
by the Greater
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How Do You (!) Preclude the Need for an Oracle-Prophet?
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #10 of In That Day Teachings
7/07/13 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
How did you preclude the need,
For a rebuking, chastising, good-old-fashioned, eccentric: oracle-prophet?
Oh preacher, who died in deed,
What’ll we do with you? You thought heaven was stuck in your pocket?
Yes sir, kind angel, blocking me at heaven’s gates!
Me and my kind were pretty self-righteous sure of ourselves,
We know. You’re the kind that full exasperates!
Your Churchianity did a sublime facsimile of various hells.
This I now know! I know, kind angel!
First, I served up Rapture’s fear! It is how I gained control,
You bent many sheep off angle!
Yes! But then I stopped! I offered prosperity for each soul!
And greed. Don’t forget greed!
Yes, kind angel. After I got ultra rich, I saw that! I saw that!
And greed grew in sheep’s seed!
Uhm, sorry about that! Here, you forgave my sheep of that?
Never mind whom we let in, despite wrong teaching!
You, sir, saw you were first fear, then greed preaching?
Yes, kind angel, I itched each ear’s strong itching!
That’s why I turned emergent: supine-laziness seeking!
And so you turned from fear and greed to supremely indolent-lazy?
Sorry angel, on Earth I couldn’t admit such sin, but here: I can!
And you see bad emotions make Christ-in-You undoable: crazy?
Yes, angel, I see that now! Fear, greed, slouch: whatta sham!
Yet, you still haven’t told us,
How did you preclude the need for a correcting prophet?
I shan’t miss heaven’s bus!
I remember this poet, his poems! Alive, I mocked it!
He strongly believed in a time now called In That Day,
When leaders, purged of sub-textual sin, normally never seen!
Along with Western Enlightenment’s correcting way,
Would remove our era’s mind-enslavement Mandarin queens!
Why, we leaders in church liked sharing powers with politicos,
We, ourselves, were raised in progressive mind-muck schools!
And that poet-prophet told us we were enslavers of every nose,
Enslavers of the mind, we were kings with our own bad rules!
And what did this poet-prophet say about your rigid-fixed rules?
He said sub-taught leaders use rules to box-trap sheep!
He said there are guidelines, no rules; God wants no blind fools!
So we hated him. Our tithe rules we had, yes, to keep!
This prophet-poet seemed to have trust and confidence, yes confidence!
That sheep didn’t need kings, nor con’ers nor progressive-elite rulers!
He said Christ-in-You came, with talents, to minds not raped, not dense!
But we leaders doubled-down on being ever greater-great foolers!
This, in heaven, we all know,
You as a preacher, were like any other Joe,
Christ-in-You: you loathed!
You precluded the need for a prophet, so…
BOOM! CRASH! BANG!
Here! Oh angel, comes my church’s Praise Bus!
It’s my gang! Gang!
Rock on! Rock on! Jesus did it all for us!
And now come legions of my lost!
We avoided correction at all cost!
Forever, we’ll sing with Faust!
Never, by God, will we be bossed!
And so our dear, kind angel,
Left that section, made temporary to look like heaven, not hell,
All shall get their angle,
All precluding the need of any correction: don’t turn out well.
But the other poor Joe’s,
Next door, in hell, to that most perdition-bedeviled section,
Complained of noise, so,
Were, by Mercy, let in to heaven’s most perfect election!
God, then, really hates those,
Who hate Christ-in-You,
He comes! He doth choose!
Now, what will you do?
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Wow! F……lift aka “shoulder monkey” defending Benny Hinn? Thought Lance banned him?
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Poor guy. Now I know why he needs his own private jet.
Check-out his entourage that look like they have jumped straight out of a Steven Segal movie.
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Winkle Proof
by Shoulder Monkey
i am the reacher into gossip
my theme is poverty
all hope for poor and broken men
marred by my sophistry
i’d like one day to be a poet
but my prose annoys
anyone with half a brain
who sees right through my ploy
of making sure i put folk down
and never build their case
i see their back and bite it hard
afraid to seek their face
to tell them that God loves them true
or wants to help them break on through
or lift them from their deep despair
and bring them into his holy care
so if you think i’ll ever agree
that God might offer prosperity
or hope or joy or liberty
think again
i’m misery
and i have a rhyme for you
i’m like that angry jonah who
hated telling nineveh
God’s deliverance was at hand
if they repented in that day
and God would heal them
seal them in his love and peace
prosper homes and families
cause their pain to cease
but he like me would rather curse
than bring deliverance to the earth
or hope or joy or liberty
think again
i’m misery
and i have a rhyme for you
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I Killed the Monkey on My Shoulder
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #3 of In That Day Teachings
-9/30/08 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
I killed the monkey on my shoulder,
The one no one else could see,
I killed the monkey on my shoulder,
The one that spoke to me.
I’m a preacher of the gospel,
My theme is prosperity,
My monkey said it’s a self-interest sham,
So I shot him eventually.
Though I shot him with big enough pistol,
A Colt forty-five,
That damn monkey went back on my shoulder,
Very much alive.
The next Sunday I preached rapture,
Our coffers were getting low,
Nothing like fear of the beast,
To make the money flow.
But my monkey objected,
To everything I said,
So I killed him once again,
Hoping he’d stay dead.
This time I ran over him,
With my ministry car,
Flat as a pancake he was,
He wasn’t going far.
So on Sunday I preached emotionally,
Got everyone in a tizzy,
I got them drunk in religious furor,
With every soul quite dizzy.
But that monkey to my shoulder returned,
And said that I did sin,
So I nailed him right then in a coffin,
And buried him within.
Next Sunday was Super Sunday,
So I spoke of football,
My monkey returned and told me,
I had dropped the ball.
I cut him up with a butcher knife,
And rammed him down the sink,
I laughed while the garbage disposal,
Munched away on pink.
On Sunday I preached intellectually,
Glorifying my brain,
My monkey returned to my shoulder,
Saying I had missed again.
I ripped him to pieces,
With my bare hands,
I felt so anointed,
In my right stand.
Now I preach whatever I want however I vaunt,
A rainbow of styles,
Prophetic Jabberwocky, Mojo-Jive, Baby-Rant,
All I get are smiles.
My monkey is dead as nails,
Of this I am sure,
He no longer visits me or assails,
I AM so pure!
Honestly, I do hate correction’s welts,
It’s all so very immature,
Let that spirit bother someone ELSE!
As I open heaven’s door…
I’ve gained so much power, for free!
Since my monkey is gone,
My sheep see everything as I see!
Without objection one.
Anything is possible,
With uncorrected faith,
Just kill your monkey conscience,
As I say, the bible saith.
Believe me, anything is possible,
With uncorrected faith,
Immerse yourself in this doctrine,
And enjoy my same fate!
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Beautiful Bank Robbers
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #3 of In That Day Teachings
1/8/09 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
Beautiful bank robbers,
They stole from you and me,
Beautiful bank robbers,
With mansions by the sea.
Beautiful bank robber couples,
So fabulously in love,
We admire their plastic features,
And how their doctors dug.
Beautiful bank robbers,
Say, You can be like me,
And have other people admire,
Your mansion by the sea.
Beautiful bank robbers,
Each must have their jet,
They have their lovely ways,
Of getting what they get.
Nothing is too good,
For bank robbers by the sea,
Better than good is perfect,
To sell greed so lustily.
Beautiful bank robbers,
How they will rot in hell,
For being so beautiful,
And lying perfect well.
The Ten-Trillionaire Televangelist
By Robert Winkler Burke
Book #4 of In That Day Teachings
4/26/2009 http://www.inthatdayteachings.com
When he drew a boundary for Sea,
posted a sign that said no trespassing,
(The Message Proverbs 8:29)
One day a televangelist appeared on the scene,
He was handsome, charismatic, lean, not mean.
He said, Hello World! Give me your tithes!
He broadcast a wild show, it was quite a ride.
To one hundred-forty nations his show was sent,
From one hundred-forty nations came tithes’ ten percent.
At that time the world’s income was one hundred trillion,
And, by golly, he received ten-thousand billion!
Ten-thousand billion was his wonderful income,
Which was ten trillion, give or take a million.
As he had more cash than any known government,
Ambassadors from the US and China were sent.
Please help us, oh televangelist, they asked of him,
Would you buy us an aircraft carrier, or moon landing?
Our nations are broke, said ambassadors of the world,
Build us a freeway, or school, or tractor for field!
All the world’s excess cash has gone to you,
What, oh great man of God, with it will you do?
The world was quiet that day, waiting to hear,
What the richest man of God would say sincere.
But he said, Sorry to inform you, oh ambassadors,
I spent it all on myself, and perfume for my whores.
Did you think I’m not subject to the maxim,
Power corrupts: It did with my tithe taxing!
Don’t blame me for wasting all the world’s wealth,
To stop waste, oh world, keep your money yourself!
But honestly and quite frankly, since the world is so cotton-picking gullible,
I’ve decided to now become the world’s first quadrillion evangelist lovable!
But the government said, Well then, since you’ve given us the ax,
We declare that you’re a business, not church, and owe us great tax!
But the televangelist took off for new planets in his private starship rocket,
Proving no one could stop this televangelist on Earth from lining his pocket.
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