Selling Out Fast

“Christian” contortions gain
Biblical proportions when
Counseling professionally
Can’t we see
Ain’t no lunch free
In this world’s

The game’s now spin
No dice for sin
If I want to play
Your joke is heavy
Your burden flight
From grace and truth
And it was night
Run holding the torch
Of blind mans sight.

In one long sentence
Dean laid law down
Words of life to me
‘Cause I’d nearly drowned
Under the proud assumption
The psychounlogical gumption
That tries to marry
Oil with water
William to Harry.

The contorted are thwarted
But refuse to know
Nature won’t play ball
Where they need to go
So they beat words down
To queer shapes and sizes
Changing God’s rules
Winning booby prizes.

Meanwhile tamed
Man-pleasers haw and hem
More hope for a fool
He should counsel them.


Patience Test

This Sunday morning
Came without
Storm warning
Just a 6am shout.

Up far too early
Changing a nappy
Back to bed surly
Internal weather crappy.

Poor kid’s oatmeal
Something was lacking
Meanwhile I feel
My patience cracking.

Rough day at best
Out edgy selfishing
Seasick at rest
Grace overboard. Missing.

Churches weekly bread
God’s word my need
Then little ones fed
Off to nap my good deed.

Yeah Sunday after noon
Sure caught me napping
They wake too soon
Jolly toddlers yapping.

My weak daze will
Poeted by blue ink
Reveal my hearts ill
It’s black, it does stink.

Of being fickle
Drowning in my
Self-centred pickle
Believing a lie.

Happiness pursued
Is not God’s story
Our kids aren’t rued
Serving them is glory.

To my pride mean
It’s good result
Like cooking salt
Purifies and flavours
As it works unseen.

O what a bore
When I want fame
To build my name
Accolades and praises
For this Counselor!

Lord oppose my pride
Grow my humility
Yes let me see
From my crazy eyes
That you own this ride!

…and know…

Hi, I’m sick
Counsel me quick
Need you to know
My pain to show
Work a trick.

Stones and sticks
Mad word picks
Hammered by hurt
Feel like dirt
I need a fix.

Late I dabble
In psycho babble
Burning this town
Throw me down
Crowds of rabble.

Years I’ve waited
Now full crap-sated
O purge me now
Don’t care how
I’ll feel elated.

Time is shifty
Minutes fifty
Raise up my dead
Heart and head
Heal me nifty.

Yes, you’re ill
I’ve no quill
To ink out pain
Such hope’s vain
Listen! “Be still…”


Andrew John
Fat from feedin’
Too well on
A nne* of Eden.

Me, oh man
I was needin’
This God’s plan
A nne of Eden.

Loving this oaf
She’s been kneadin’
Our married loaf
A nne of Eden.

We came in
To parenthood speedin’
Twice within
A nne of Eden.

Home or about
God’s Word readin’
All throughout
A nne of Eden.

Garden weedin’
Over coffee or tea
A nne of Eden.

Our spiritual eyes
See God leadin’
Proof He’s wise
A nne of Eden.

One thing sure
I been heedin’
Wisdom pure
A nne of Eden.


* “nne” is the Swahili word for four.

Not fine what

Giant print
Left there for
Sorest eyes
Brows that squint
Right before
Anak size
Typeset mint
Left to poor
Philistine cries
Whatever tint
Right large bore
Sight dies

Got mine shot

Twenty + Five

Year to thrive
Twenty plus Five
Five n Twenty
Year of plenty
In God jive!

Yeah! To strive,
Feeling alive.
Stayin’ dent free
“Oh Yes” went me
“Let God drive”