Category Archives: observation

Another Gospel?

ANOTHER GOSPEL? 

There are seemingly quite a few who are offering us – a more updated version of Christianity.

Challenging some of the fundamentals of the faith – confusing the fundamentals with the newly re-contextualised fundamentalism label.

Because there exists dogmatic Pharisees who want everything conformed to their image – they assume that those who hold fast to that which is good, has been good, and always will be good, are dead traditionalists/‘fundamentalists’.

…Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.

That which is good is the articles of faith – long established and present in many Christian churches, from which we are never meant to depart, as per the charge of the gospel of Christ.

Those searching for a broader outlook. Those searching for a so-called more ‘enlightened’ approach – are apt to use the fact that we all cannot know all mysteries, and therefore this is a reason to alter, annul and eventually dismiss what is sound and cannot change, and has been established for centuries.

They do this act of watering down – in the name of tolerance, open-mindedness, and all-embracing love. And consider it theological progress.

The result is that they see so many sides to things that nothing ever becomes sure. But at least they reason we can ‘all get along’.

Soon they lead us to the ‘many roads to God approach’ – again in the name of tolerance and being nice.

And then slowly but surely we are meant to embrace every religion under the sun, in the name of tolerance and understanding of how the other half lives. As we partake of the ecumenical soup.

Jesus Christ is the Son of God. There is no other name under heaven whereby we can be saved and delivered from this corrupt generation. The God of the bible is called Jehovah and His son Jesus Christ The Lord. There is a heaven and there is a hell.

Pretty straightforward and dogmatic – but absolutely true.

To hold to this does not automatically make me an intolerant bigot, out to be rude and denigrate everyone who thinks differently.

The latest truth being tampered with – is the fact that there is a hell, there is a Gehenna.

Some so called ‘progressives’ consider the best way to get rid of hell is not to believe in it.

That way everyone is ok and marching to the promised land of heaven, regardless of what they believe or what lifestyle they practice or what god they serve.

Pan-everything-ism is the new (no, not really new – just rehashed) ‘enlightened’ way, they would have us believe.

And when someone makes a statement like my last paragraph they are perceived as dogmatic stick-in-the-mud fundamentalists who want to condemn everyone to hell. However there is only One who has the power/right/authority to do so –

Jesus said:

Luke 12:5

But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear Him who, after He has killed, has power to cast into hell; yes, I say to you, fear Him!

I believe in enlightenment/inspiration, or better put, revelation – but within the guidelines and confines of The Holy Bible.

As a painter/poet/preacher ‘etc’. I like to think I have some imagination. And I am open-minded enough to at least listen to those who have another slant on things other than my own.

I’m aware of dogmatism out of a heart bound-up with bitterness in the name of religion.

I’m aware that there are those who stand with Christ in doctrine, but with the devil in attitude.

But I’m also aware that there is such a thing as truth and error.

The bible is full of warnings (do a study on it – see how many you can find).

If there is no need to warn God’s true people – then there are no dangers.

Here’s a tip – Go for ‘sincere’ in people – rather than ‘nice’. And go for the bible and what it says even more than the preaching of it.

By that I mean – the words themselves, because:

Matthew 4:4

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on EVERY word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Notice the EVERY word aspect.

Regardless of whether we have experienced Revelation on every word – the revelation we have already received convinces us that the potential for further revelation comes through every word of scripture.

What has been established by revelation is to be adhered to. For example ‘justification by faith’ as revealed to Martin Luther. Does that mean that he is an infallible guide because he received revelation? No – but the bible is.

Sometimes we must take the word exactly as we find it, not blindly, (i.e. without a quickened understanding) but in trust – first. This leads to more revelation of what we are reading, as God has promised to lead us into more spiritual understanding:

John 16:13

However, when He, the Spirit of truth, has come, He will guide you into all truth; for He will not speak on His own authority, but whatever He hears He will speak; and He will tell you things to come.

We take it on board first, and then we are free to ask God what it really is saying.

The truth has been established of old. Jesus is the Only Begotten Son of God, He needs-must die on the cross to offer mankind a way back to relationship with God, there is a Gehenna to escape through Christ, there was a virgin birth and so on…

The exaltation of the intellect of man over the inspiration of scripture will produce all kinds of theories and unbiblical conclusions.

Christians beware.

30 Also from among yourselves men will rise up, speaking perverse things, to draw away the disciples after themselves.

The inevitable lady

THE INEVITABLE LADY

The inevitable lady sitting at the desk

Why do you look so bored?

 

With ancient implement called pencil

Idly doodling on your sheet

You give a glance and improvise a smile

 

I look around

Around and around and up and down I go again

But don’t get myself in a twist

Panning in – panning out

I observe scrutinise and zoom in

 

The artists – four in all

Display their wares

 

I’ve seen it all – before

Wait – never saw that before

 

At the end – I glance at the inevitable lady

No longer lifting her head

No forcing of a smile

 

But I catch a glimpse

Of her masterful piece of 

Doodling that I would like to buy

Listen

LISTEN

You can’t hear me

By hear I mean receive communication

 

You can’t hear me

If by hear I mean understand

You can’t hear me 

If by hear I mean the need of hearing aids

You can’t hear me

If by hear I mean don’t ignore

You can’t hear me

If by hear I mean take on board and explore

 

As one shouts over another

As many shout in violence 

As people’s views are world’s apart

As peace departs from their speech

 

We screw up our eyes

And with furrowed brow

We turn from the screech of madness

 

No one wants to listen

Really listen

No violence

No violence 

‘Over and out!’ he shouted down the phone

‘Over and out?’ I asked – reasons for – unknown

‘Yes we always part that way,’ he said

‘Leftover from back in the day’

 

He was talking to an old school friend

The one who used to drive him round the bend

Marvellous what the years can change

When we mature and rearrange

Our thinking – on things once in concrete

We learn life is not so black and white

Things that before we held in a tight grip

We can now studiously allow to slip

And though we hold our principles fast

We embrace differences – so friendships will last

So into the air I say:

Agree to differ – and from all violence turn away

Drug delusion

DRUG DELUSION

All tuckered-out

Gasping for a bonus breath

All displayed-out across the sprawling floor

Horizontal jitterbugging – trying to rise

Collapsed again – with harmful jarring of limbs

 

At last – a staggered concertina – making it to the lamp post

Tree hugging imitation of the iron pylon

The head squeaks – needing oil – and tries to scan

The horizon – seeing a building walking like a man

 

No offered hand lest the helper fall too

No policeman to offer a – where to go – for you

And to think these drugs can be sales-talked

Into your life – held forth in dealer’s hand

Like some smiling python inducing romance

 

To get you persuaded and on board

Is the goal – so your puppeteer can return

With nothing to offer but death in a capsule

Producing frantic nervous-breakdown reward 

“C’mon” he says “take a chance…”

 

I cannot be heard above your internal din

When I cry “throw it in the bin!”

I cannot be heard when I say – “walk away…”

 

Find the other kingdom – get across the line

To the place that’s not in the war

A ‘land’ of peace and joy

Receiving what the new deal offers

We cry: “Only Christ can satisfy!”

Response?

RESPONSE?

I guess whether Christian or non-Christian – when it comes to writing articles, making comments, writing a post, or preaching a sermon, it is stating the obvious to say that we want to think, that what we have spoken or communicated in whatever form – is relevant.

Think of the thousands who put fingers to keys in blogging format to get heard/responded to.

We quite like the idea of others being affected by what we say, – do we not?

Eliciting either affirmation, wonder, admiration, pleasant surprise, thanks, agreement et al.

All responses we, (unconsciously perhaps?), seek for, when communicating.

You write a post on some pop star – and it adds another ten people to the ‘fan club’/followers, or they love the song you have posted, and look for more of same.

Political movements seek to harvest followers for their cause or politician.

And of course, those running a business are delighted when you respond by ordering their product.

Posting – speaking – communicating – blogging – vlogging – whatever involves visual or verbal communication has usually some goal in mind.

And we sit back in our chairs satisfied, when positive response is received.

It’s a basic human instinct or need to be appreciated.

When the negative response comes along, we of course don’t like it. And either ignore it – or enter into verbal fisticuffs with the perpetrator.

(Which usually is non-profitable and a waste of time. The exception proves the rule when both parties learn something)

Now normally this introduction of mine would have some such above mentioned goal in mind, i.e. eliciting response of some kind, as I lead us to some salient point.

That is – it would seek to get your affirmation or  positive response, followed by actions you might take – as you – whatever…

Join the club or buy the product or change your life.

But guess what? – that’s it. I simply want to point out we are all looking for response.

So when I talk to God – I am looking for response. I send my words to Him in prayer, and at times am more conscious of His response than others.

I guess you didn’t expect this to end up on the subject of prayer?

Again – guess what? – neither did I…

[No response to this Post – called for, or is there?]

It’s a Bookshelf World

IT’S A BOOKSHELF WORLD

Heads peer at us – full-screen or to the side

Mouths mouthing every conceivable Covid theme

Experts and not – giving opinion in the rectangular frame

One after the other in different parts of the globe

That global world of mini caves with furniture

 

Furniture – have you noticed? – you bet you have

An insight – a strong conclusion is concurred

[I see much paper is still with print

Books – hard-copy called –

stuffed unceremoniously in bookshelves walled]

 

Backgrounds countless in every private room

Stacked in space-filling fashion

Some neat – others replete – or crammed

All shapes and sizes – arrangements galore

 

Titles curiously glanced at – by you and I

Some titles too small for the human eye

We eagerly look to see their reading habits

 

Yes low and behold

bookshelves – bookshelves – bookshelves

All in array – everyone has one – has many –

Bookshelves well made and hanging together

Real wood and veneer adjacent side by side

 

Vertical stacked books horizontal as well –

Supported in rickety Mondrian pattern

Or – all displayed volumes in volumetric show

Best of binding don’t you know

 

Bookshelves – all have been exposed

Not things of the past as you might think

Bookshelves on show in a row

Ugly Covid’s by-product bonus for the eyes

 

Glimpses of how the other half live

They all love their bookshelves

We cannot fail to see

They all love their bookshelves

It’s a bookshelf-world made from the tree

 

Bookshelves – bookshelves – bookshelves

Everyone talks in their bookshelf room

Bookshelves – ‘If I ever see another bookshelf…’

Bookshelves on the TV

Bookshelves – it’s overwhelming me

 

I thought you said it’s all computerised?

While there before our eyes

Regardless of the subject-matter discussed

Regardless of Isolation – all locked in – at home –

Have bookshelf will travel

Books and more books –  bookshelf spree

 

With the all-encompassing comfort-zone-shelf

People – proud – chose that room – to let the world see

They still love their bookshelf – not even tidy

They say it doesn’t have to be

 

The humble bookshelf background –

or are we looking at a shop?

Bookshelves – surely a library is before me?

 

No – that’s their’s – in their home

(most advanced persons of the 21st century)

A bookshelf exposé

 

Bookshelves –

The ones that are not meant to be…

I don’t remember poems

I DON’T REMEMBER POEMS

I don’t remember poems

I – of former full-script-of-lines-remembered

– type person

Standing to play my part as Lentulus

 

I don’t remember poems

I – of former full-on stamping-forward youth

Ready to take the world on

 

I don’t memorise poems –

“Who wrote that I often ask?”

Why – it was KR – me myself and I

 

Written –

it must have fallen unnoticed

Into the back of my folder

 

I don’t speak poems from memory

I have to shy away

All shy within – slipping out of sight

Into the corner – as young men or women

Recite and rant their full contribution

With no page in front of them

 

What memory have I?

Enough to invent more words

Get ‘em down on paper or screen

Speak ‘em out and forget them

But you can glean

Making them what they seem

Or what – you think they mean

 

They tell me there is a diminishing with age

However memory is some old wine

So you’re wrong – it grows in value

What value – a memory brings

 

A softly spoken man – (I’ve met one or two)

Softly spoken – they speak perpetual poetry

Having never written a poem

 

But am I too soft in valuing other things more

When freely distributing my text at the drop

of an asking voice?

Help me or help me explore…

 

The hypothesis that:

Friendship is greater than words

Even though writing them we cannot ignore

 

I don’t store –

up – poems in the recesses of the mind

I get them on the white shore –

safe from the stormy blast

Paper – that ancient reciprocal of lyric or text

Still lends it’s hand as a bank-vault-archive

Pinning these thoughts down

But don’t ask me to extemporaneously repeat them

I won’t make the effort to write them on the heart

 

So in all of this subject matter

In danger of being a major made out of a minor

I have given my explanation as to

why I stand with this page

Let’s just say ‘on page’ is what I want to do

Unimpressed? –

me too

Bleakness

BLEAKNESS

Bleak House –

never read it

But read the title –

A Bleak title indeed

 

Bleak future for mankind

All bottled-up with tight corkscrew

Pop goes the weasel or man blows his top

 

Hair is pulled out at the four

mop-tops Concert

 

Bleakness

 

Long-haired lover from Liverpool

Slides down the charts into oblivion

 

Another crow crows – a lark and a dove

But best of all please let their be love

 

Spray of lawn spray – wets us all – passing by

Laughter fills the air – we have

Got to get it together now

 

But there’s always another –

cup of cold coffee and a piece of cake

 

Sideburns – burnt off now – all gone

No more films – showing on –

The ancient screens of long ago

Bulldozed into – nothing in the air

 

Contaminating atmosphere

And blackening the sky

 

Your careless – my careless – indifference

But what can we do?

One man said: ‘what does it matter anyway?’

 

The world is well spun 360 degrees-times-many

Anyone dizzy? Life’s busy

– though

 

And you don’t have time today

To wile away the hours in strange pursuits

 

Pragmatists say it – like it is

 

Bleak? Bleak as ever when you meet.

 

The pessimist – the former undertaker

Who spun on his heels one day

And thought himself – as good as Fred Astaire

So he took up a new career on the dance floor

He was good at it too

He lost all his former bleakness

Set sail on a cruise ship and never returned

to the bleakness of his apartment

above the funeral parlour

 

He slipped on a tomato sandwich one day

And went overboard into the bleakness

of the ocean below – rescued from the deep

 

Went into deep depression – seemed

Everything was bleak

 

What about “have a bleak day”

Instead of “Have a good day”

 

You may be bleak

But I can see you take comfort in being unique

 

I’ve often said this

So I will not say it again

 

Is it hard to be original?

Not really – just don’t complain

 

Some think it’s a rat-race mess

All this bleakness drives you insane

 

They’ve named a new Row

Bleakness replacing Skid

 

You can see what I did

– there?

 

His final bleak outlook is this:

If I could give a forecast for your emotions

And point at the chart of your internal weather

Would I help you by predicting the rain and fog

of melancholy? –

Would it stop you from becoming a melancholic

Addicted to bleakness?

Invented impressions

INVENTED IMPRESSIONS

Now if I was to impress you

This way or that

Impressed you were with an impression

 

As I dreamt-one-up in fake-guise of invention

Pierced through – is this world with un-genuine

Some take the time

to be as false as can be

Inventions and re-inventions

so that they too are confused

As to who they are and what they believe

Confusion not from God’s hand

 

Barely making it across the roofs

The retreating criminal nonetheless escapes

To ease down from his anxiety

Onto a late night bed

Rising at noon the next day

Living from hand to mouth

Any which way he can

He has lost himself

And cannot tell where to find him

Conscience gone in the pursuit of gain

 

He hopes to impress the girl

With an air and an impression

Of a got-it-together guy

Flashing the cash from ill-gotten gain

False industry – lazy as before

They marry until the money runs out

And the real man appears

As over and over he can’t support

His overworked waitress

with her constant retort

Fried Chicken

FRIED CHICKEN

The smell of fried chicken
Wafting it’s way down the hill
The waft of fried chicken
Proud nose in the air on it’s trail
The sight of sizzling chicken
Now bought without – another thought
The taste of fried chicken
The vegetarian’s nightmare
You’re a working class lad
Chickening your way through the years
Last thing at night when other stomachs
Can’t abide or survive food of this kind
You devour and smile between each piece
Fried chicken – big part of your life
It represents an oasis of ‘calm’
Regardless of your bad night
Chicken at hand – makes it all right
Chicken fried – skin and all
Into your awaiting teeth
Chewed over – tasty – your favourite meat
How can something like food leave you like this?
As you smell – as you think – as you associate
Many days gone, many nights of stacked memories
All triggered by the smell of chicken-fry
I know you know what I mean
I can see you floating into a dream
It’s ok to feel that way
Now make your way – to KFC
But if you are health conscious
This may not gel with your conscience
Especially – ‘you need help’ – one might say
If it’s more than once a week