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Monday, August 29, 2011

A Toasty Bed

George was a very patient man. So patient, in fact, that he rarely got up in the morning. One day he awoke to the smell of his wife’s toast, which is odd because she had left him many years ago. The toast was then burning, and George quickly realized that is was not toast, but a small fire.

“It’s only a small fire,” he yawned. Back to bed.

As the fire grew hot he gave a pause. Ah! He thought, free heating! He would have a lower gas bill this month, he reasoned.

Eventually he accepted the sweating heat and hacking smoke, it just seemed normal now. His bed soon caught fire. ah, a nice toasty bed.

When the house had totally burned down and he was totally burned (yet he had miraculously survived), the fire department finally arrived. As he sat in the hospital covered in bandages he asked the nurse “why are hospitals always so cold?” She shrugged.

“I miss my toasty bed,” he said with a sigh.


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Transcript from a Discusion about Church History Part Six

K: “…so I’m almost home when I hear the curfew bell go off, and I’m running home and I hear the Nuclear Warning Siren start to wail.”
P: “Uhha.”
K: “So, I barely make it home in time, and I’m just inside my front door and I’m panting and huffing and the curfew bell is ringing and the Nuclear Warning Siren is whining when—“
“This is a test of the Emergency Test System; this is only a test. This is a tri-quarterly, wisis-issued test, through your local city-state, of the Emergency Test System. The Chancellor of our wisis, on behalf of the National Director, thanks you for your cooperation.”


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Transcript from a Discusion about Church History Part Five

K: “Well, the Church officially decreed him the Antichrist.”
P: “There used to be this belief that there were many antichrists, sort of a spirit. Everyone from Nero to Hitler, even Titus.”
K: “Wasn’t Titus, I mean his sacrifice, considered aod?”
P: “When he sacrificed the ham. Many considered Daniel’s aod and…when there was only one, they thought, aod.”
K: “Yes, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, that way of thinking.”
P: “Nnnih…”


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Monday, August 8, 2011

Transcript from a Discusion about Church History Part Four

P: “Most of them will burn in Hell; some will be told ‘go and sin no more,’ but most will burn in Hell.”
K: “Mmm…So, let’s talk about Hell.”
P: “Hell is the place of eternal torment described by the prophet Dante. Most people spend time, a lot, you know, the torments…and, never…yes, there is the fire, and the brimstone and the locusts, but what’s important is who is going to…going. Sinners and liars, idolators and adulterers, pagans, freaks, false gods, sodomists, whores, the rebellious, the unchurched, abominators. It’s just, you don’t want that.”
K: “Yes, and all those people are aod.”
P: “The seventy-third Universal Council defined entrance with aod.”
K: “Yes, and thankfully there is an aod list.”


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Transcript from a Discusion about Church History Part Three

K: “That’s why chicken should never be used in religious ceremonies.”
P: “No, exactly. That’s…that’s what. It’s just like those snake handlers.”
K: “Well, that was outlawed years ago as a heresy, along with animal sacrifice.”
P: “And chickens are becoming passé.”
K: “Well, it was mostly the rural, backwoods pagan areas that were using chickens like that anyway.”
P: “But I think codifying the Christian observances and holidays helped a lot with bringing churches into the mainstream of orthodoxy.”
K: “Yes, it’s so nice that Christians every where are coming to unity in the faith and unity in the knowledge of Jesus.”
P: It’s so nice celebrating the same traditional holidays that the early Christians celebrated…Christmas, Easter, Valentine’s Day, God Pride Day, and also worshipping the way they did.”
K: “Well do you remember when those Judaizers were trying to remove the ham from the Easter service? The ham has been a part of the Easter celebration since at least the time of Nero. It’s what the disciples called the ‘love feast.’”
P: “Wasn’t that odd? Trying to remove the ham?”


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Transcript from a Discusion about Church History Part Two

P: “So, when a lot of the Protestant leaders were being jailed—“
K: “Come on, you know they didn’t do it.”
P: “The, uh, ‘reformers’ or the Church?”
K: “Look, there was this great synergy between the Eastern and Western Rites.”
P: “Right. Especially with the writings of Dr….,uh…”
K: “Wright?”
P: “Wright!”
K: “Right. So, what about the Rites?”
P: “Well, he said in his theological treatise, Concerning the Right God.
K: “HAHahahaha…”
P: “…”
K: “Go on, sorry.”
P: “Well he said, like Luther, he said ‘what of the Greek Christians?’ which was eventually formalized as the Sixth Sola ‘Sola Ecclesia.’”
K: “Yes, and that whole section of Right God is really enlightening, particularly in regards to doctrinal disputes.
P: “I especially love his words on synods and councils.
K: “Yes, Wright really brought a lot to the table in bringing the Church back to its primitive roots and to the primitive testimony of Jesus Christ and of the Apostles.”
P: “Now, that also became, was included in the Universal Catechism, starting with the Twelve Solas and the Apostles Creed, and later a third-century document entitled The Teachings of the Apostles.


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Friday, August 5, 2011

Transcript from a Discusion about Church History Part One

P: “Everyone was super shocked when the Pope stepped down.”
K: “Yeah, and that was, what, fifty years ago – gosh.”
P: “I know; people who weren’t alive just can’t imagine what it was like before that.”
K: “OK, I don’t want to get too much into that ancient history; we discussed that at length earlier, but—“
P: “But you can’t understand these events without knowing those; that’s why when the Anglican and Catholic churches reunited—“
K: “Sort of buried the incense burner.”
P: “Yes. When they reunited, a lot of the focus shifted on to the Archbishop of Canterbury. A lot about whether…what he was doing, or what with this authority, and so on.”
K: “Right.”
P: “But that’s why the Protestant churches were very leery about the Church.”
K: “Even though some of them had began to coalesce already with things like the Reformation Counsel.”
P: “Yes, and Reformation II especially.”
K: “Ah, you’re getting a bit ahead; tell us about the Third Great Awakening.”


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Saturday, July 30, 2011

The Call

Hey there
Been a while since You called
Been wondering where You been
Have I done something wrong?
Say it ain't so!
Ain't?
Am I not
The one You called?
Please just call me back.


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent


p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Friday, July 29, 2011

The Love Life of Dave McGraw

Dave McGraw is everything a girl could want, outgoing, handsomely dressed, overconfident, and a total ass. He is the perfect man. He works at Van Delay Industries (an import export company of small consequence) as their regional director. It is odd that they should need a regional director, since they are only in one city presently, but I reckon Dave needs a job. Sarah Schnopp also needs a job, so she is Dave’s secretary. She however, is nothing. She is clumsy, self doubting, underperfumed, and very sweet and kind. She is everything a man wants nothing to do with.

Will today be the day? Sarah wondered. No. She would not spend the courage to talk to Dave, really talk to him.

They did talk over many lunches, about deep things too, but he never seemed to notice her interest in him. This particular Friday was no exception.

Dave leaned comfortably against a cold, smooth, grey cabinet as Sarah held a folder or two in front of her. He was wearing a teal dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his clean, stubbly beard made his smile look even wider than it already did. She was wearing a black sweater over a white blouse, with grey pants. Her dull brown hair was lightly frizzled. “Sarah,” he said with what she thought was a special smile, “you’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you, especially since we started shipping that new latex bathroom tissue.”

“Well, I think you’re great too.”

“Really?” He got excited.

“Dave, I…”

“The prettiest girl in the world!”

“Huh?”

Karolyn Brooks walked in. She was Dave’s girlfriend (though she’s not so much marriage material as kennel material). When she walked in wearing her tight, black business suit, Dave seemed to forget that Sarah was still standing there mid sentence. Dave and Karolyn chatted for a few minutes, then Karolyn excused herself.

There was an awkward silence for a minute, Dave looked around almost reluctantly and said “Sarah, could I ask you something?”

“Anything, what.”

“Well, this is awkward I know, my girlfriend's here and all, I have to ask,” This is it she thought. He was interrupted before, but now he’ll ask. “Would you mind fetching us coffee? Karolyn likes hers black. I’d really appreciate it.”

“Sure,” she said with a smile, while she thought of dumping hot coffee on the two lovebirds. She sang to herself “Why can’t you see-e-e, you belong with me-e-e.”

As Karolyn and Dave were chatting and laughing, Sarah was picking through receiving reports and talking to herself. “I’m just not the type of girl guys notice. Dave wouldn’t notice if I were on fire. I can’t keep thinking that everybody else will change for me. I should be the kind of girl that he likes: a normal one. There’s nothing wrong with changing yourself, if the changes are good.”

Over the weekend, Sarah had a makeover for Dave, and Dave had a makeover for Karolyn. Karolyn didn't need a makover.

That Friday evening, as Karolyn was shaving Dave’s back (their ritual for Friday nights), she said “I love that cologne your wearing.”

“I do it for you, babe.”

“Thank you; you really love me, don’t you?”

“Of course, babe.”

“How much?”

“Uh-oh,” he said playfully.

Meanwhile, Sarah was at her apartment, looking at pictures of beautiful actresses and models. She was hoping to get an inspiration.

“My beard?” said Dave.

“It’s just so prickly when we kiss,” said Karolyn.

“I’ve had this beard since I was 16.”

“It’s honestly not that big a deal.”

On Saturday, Dave, went antiquing with Karolyn, sans the beard (you see, he did love her), while Sarah went shopping with her two sisters for a new wardrobe.

“I like this new look of yours,” said the three. Karolyn to Dave and Sarah’s sisters to her.

“I didn’t think I would, but I do like it now.” Sarah and Dave replied in their respective places so far apart.

“I’ve been changing a lot for you, and I like who I’m becoming,” said Dave.

“I don’t like who I’ve become,” said Sarah; “I’m going to do a lot of changing.”

“You should shave your chest,” said Karolyn.

“You should get blond highlights,” said the sisters.


*          *          *

On Sunday, Dave and Karolyn went to the beach while Sarah had her hair and nails done. Dave waited till they were at the beach to change into his swim suit, so he went into the bathroom as Karolyn waited impatiently. When he came out, he was completely hairless. He had shaved not only his back and face, but his head, chest, and even his legs. Karolyn was shocked; she did not know how to react. What happened?

“What do you think?”

“You shaved.”

“I shaved everything, head to toe, everything.”

Dave’s arms were outstretched for a hug, but Karolyn was appalled. She did not like what Dave had done, what he had become. She told him they should evaluate their relationship, and she went home to think it over. Dave was confused; he spent the day crying.

On Monday, when Dave returned to work, he found the answer to his problems: Sarah walked in. She was wearing a tight-fitting, black skirt and blouse, lip gloss, perfume, and even blond highlights.

“Sarah? You look…amazing!” said Dave. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. Sarah, I’ve been treating you so poorly. I just couldn't see what was right in front of my eyes; You were the one all along. You’re so sweet and so kind and you understand me.”

Believe it or not, right then, Taylor Swift’s You Belong with Me was playing on someone’s radio. “Would you like to go out with me tonight?”

“Yes,” she said tears almost welling in her eyes.

*          *          *

That evening, Sarah and Dave went to Bern’s Steak House. She thought a lot about how he had reacted to her that morning. It was nice to be noticed, but why do I have to add to myself to get attention?

“Why did you shave? I liked your beard and haircut.”

“Oh, hair is so disgusting. I shave my chest too.”

“I thought your beard made you look very...warm.”

“Well, look at you; you look beautiful.”
Is he implying that I was ugly before? I don’t think he really loves me; he’s just filling the gap Karolyn left; I don’t even think he really likes me.

“Not that you weren’t beautiful before. I guess. But now I can see you. We’ve both made so many improvements over the weekend.” I don’t think we are on the same page, Sarah thought, I just want to be myself.

“Would you excuse me?” Sarah asked. She walked to the restrooms, paused, and kept on walking right outside, deciding not to go back in or even care about Dave.

As Dave waited, Sarah went home and threw out all her perfume and hairspray and lip gloss and foundation and nail polish and all of her beauty products. She wondered if she wasn’t being a little crazy, then she thought about Dave sitting there at the restaurant alone. About fifteen minutes later, when Dave was sure Sarah had dumped him, and he was just leaving, in walked…

All of Sarah’s beauty products! The hair color, the eyeliner, even the lip gloss. Dave was so happy and relieved to see them.

“I can’t believe I was so stupid; I just couldn’t see what was right in front of my eyes. You were what I wanted all along.”

Sarah’s beauty products and Dave had a great evening, and went on to have a successful long term relationship. Dave even got over his fear of commitment; I hear the wedding is this fall at the Maybelline corporate offices.



Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

The Real Portion

Ten little fingers
And ten little toes;
Smiles and coos
And a cute button nose,
But I’ve been forgotten;
Nobody loves me;
All they want
Are careers and money.
They’ve missed real life
They’ve missed their portions
Because they’ve had
50 million murders.



Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Friday, July 22, 2011

Until I Met Her

Life formed a vastly endless ocean
Of quiet rage and calm deceit
Until I met her.
“How long must I wait in darkness?”
I cried in my heart
Until I met her.
Like rain that fills the ocean,
Rain when fleeting vapors fill the skies with tenebrosity
And the earth with shifting shadows,
My soul was full of tears
Until I met her.
“You will not love her!”
They raged,
Raged like storms
Like ocean storms that flee the sunlight.
“You will not love her!”
They held,
Held on to their son
As a son who would have died.
But as the immortal Son fears no mortal man,
And pursues all;
Filling the deepest hate with shinning love,
So the illuminating sun fears no murky mist,
And pursues all;
Filling the darkest hole with golden light.
So she filled my empty soul
With the smell of fresh rain.
For she led me out of the haze;
It was the beloved, leading the beloved.
It was sealed
With the shinning, golden bow.


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Saturday, July 16, 2011

The Shepherd Is My Lord

The shepherd is my Lord, my God;
I shall not disappoint him.
He makes me sit in wooden pews:
He leads me to be dumb.

He saves my life, restores my soul:
He leads me to be holy.
Though I walk through poverty,
I will give him money.

Your superstitious rules control me
In a sermon pointed.
In the presence of the throng,
You say that you’re anointed.

Sunday, your mouth runneth over,
Dogmas all my life.
But I will not dwell in your house
All of my long life.


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Fasting

I'm so hungry! he thought to himself.

He had lost his job; he had lost his friends; he had lost the respect of his family, and, now, they were making him fast.

“Should I sneak out? No. Bad idea. I could tell them the truth. No. I'm going out to look for a job again. Yeah.”

They had him looking for work every day since he had lost his job. Every day, walking in the hot sun. That burning yellow orb, in the painfully-bright, blue sky, that fell through the atmosphere like the world's largest laser. It was endless, burning down through the hot, humid air to the harsh, white sidewalks, making them seethe with heat and light. Down this hard, hot concrete he traversed; he could feel it hitting his foot with every step, the shock going up to his knees rhythmically. He went down to the mall, or the grocery store, or the bank, filling out applications, talking to managers. There was no rest, not for a second, all day long; it was endless.

“Hey, I'm going to the mall again to look for more jobs.” He was going to the mall, but he wasn't looking for work that day.

“Well, that's good,” his mom said. “Did you read your Bible and do your prayers”

“Yup.”

His mother wore pajamas and curlers. The look on her face was that of perpetual fear, and her poor eyes looked dim enough to be Leah's.

“I'm glad you're finally taking some initiative and looking for work. If you're not going to be praying you need to look for a job; your situation will never change if you aren't diligent. You have to keep knocking down those doors until you get a job. You have to keep in prayer. And you have to repent, or things will never get better. 'Seek and ye shall find.'”
How long is she going to take? “Yup,” he said.

He was Ben. Ben lived with his parents, and, although he was twenty-two years old, they treated him like he was two. Ben was tall and lean. His hair was slicked back with too much gel, which, along with his chiseled features, and the extreme gauntness of his clean-shaven face, gave him an eroded look. Ben's crisp, brown eyes looked hollow, recessed deep into his head; when one looked into them, it was like looking straight through to the other side. His bony hands were pale and ugly (perhaps from wringing them in prayer). His wrinkly, red shirt always looked like he had slept in it. His blue jeans were the only thing that made him look normal. Overall, Ben looked like a skin-covered skeleton, except without so much fat, like an unused raincoat hanging on an otherwise empty coat rack.

When Ben got to the mall, his girlfriend, Anne, and her father, Ray, were there. Anne was short, “petite” they say. Her hair fell down her shoulders like a waterfall, cascading down in locks of bronze. Her green eyes looked so bright that they might have belonged to Rachel. Though her clothes were plain, her rosy cheeks held between them a wide smile that seemed never to diminish as she spoke.

“Hello, Ben.”

“Hello,”replied Ben. “And hello, Mr. Hope”

Ray's smile was as wide as Anne's, but it fit better on his large frame. His brown hair was just down past his ears on the sides and was balding in front.

“Let's get something to eat,” said Anne.

I'm supposed to be fasting. “OK,” said Ben.

Ben and Anne held hands as they walked through the mall, which was to help hold up the listing Ben as much as anything else; her soft skin made him feel warm. As they walked through the food court, the smells of the restaurants hit Ben's nose like a slamming door and went straight to his stomach. Beef, chicken, bread, pasta, grease, seasonings, spices, cheese, vegetables, all the smells hit him at once; he staggered under the strain.

“What do y'all want to get?” asked Ray.

“I dunno; what do you want Ben?” asked Anne.

“I don't think I'll have anything right now,” Ben said.

“But you look so hungry,” said Anne. “Are you still fasting?”

“Uh...yeah,” he replied.

“It's been a week now; shouldn't you eat something?” asked Anne.

“Actually, it's been two weeks, but I'm fine.”

“Did your parents compel you to do this?” asked Anne.

“I'm doing this of my own volition.”

“Did your parents come up with the idea?” asked Ray.

“They did think it would be a good idea,” replied Ben.

“Well, I won't tell you what to do, but you do look like you need to eat,” said Ray.

“You're going to eat,” said Anne firmly.

I guess Mom and Dad won't know. “OK.”
They went up to the counter and ordered their food from the young men and women in crisp, maroon uniforms and sat down. Unfortunately, the only table available was the short one by the mall play area. Ben's tall, gaunt body looked particularly odd at the small table, as did Ray's large, football-player build, but Anne looked not quite as far out of place.

“How's your chicken?” asked Ray.

“Good,” said Ben.

“Don't eat too quickly,” said Anne.
Just then, Ben threw up on the table. His vomit tasted sour in his mouth, the flavor lingering for several minutes. It smelled foul and looked worse.

“Oh! I told you to be careful,” said Anne.

“Guess I deserve that for lying; God sure is having fun with me,” Ben said under his breath.

“Are you OK?” asked Ray.

“I'm fine.”

“You're not fine!” said Anne. “Your parents are making you starve yourself. You're acting crazy! I'm afraid you're going to kill yourself.”

“I'm not going to kill myself; I'll be fine if God doesn't kill me.” Ben's face looked weak even though he affected an expression of calming strength. He touched Anne's seemingly fat hands with his cold ones.

“Well, when are you going to stop fasting?” asked Anne.

“Maybe when I get a job.”

“What if that doesn't happen?” asked Anne.

“I can go a long while, a month or more. We'll see.”
Anne was clutching Ben's bony hand like a roller coaster handle. Then Ray interjected, “Do you think God wants you to starve yourself?”

“I'm just trying to find God's will for my life; I need to get serious.”

“Do you think you have to fast to get a job?” Ray asked.

“It's more than that; I have a lot of problems. I've been really stupid, and I need to get back on track with God. I'm trying to repent, but I haven't heard from Him yet. I need direction!” Ben was shivering from cold and hunger and fear and passion.

“Last I heard, all you have to do is turn back to Him, and He'll forgive you, no strings attached,” said Ray.

“We love you,” said Anne as she looked into Ben's eyes. It seemed as if she would give him the warm glimmer in her eyes to fill his hollow sockets.

“Why are you so nice to me?” said Ben as tears welled up in his eyes.

“The God I worship is loving,” said Ray.

“I know, but I need answers,” said Ben looking up at Ray.

“What more do you need?”

One of the mall janitors, a small, happy-looking woman, came to clean the table. There was silence for a few seconds as she cleaned the table.
Then, Ben's phone rang, and he jolted. Shit! “It's my mom,” he said picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” The muffled voice could be heard around the table.

“Chick-fil-A.” He paused. “I'm filling out an application.”

“Make sure you're home by a decent hour; I don't want you out late.”

“Yes ma'am.” The sick look was returning to Ben's face.

“I'm glad you're looking for work, but don't forget to come home and do your prayers. Are you still fasting?”

“Yes ma'am.” Ben was looking progressively sicker.

“You need to get serious if you want results. God won't forgive you until you change your heart.”

“I have.” The expression on Ben's face was that of a guilty little boy.

“Oh? What did He tell you?”

“About what?” He looked vexed.

“About your situation!” came the distorted answer.

“I mean, uh, I know I'm supposed to look for work.” Ben looked as if he would drop the phone right there from sheer exhaustion.

“Is that all?”

“No; I don't know.” Ben looked confused.

“When you get some real answers to your problems, then I'll believe you've changed.” Her words persuaded Ben like sly Laban. “You need to get on your knees, young man. Well, I'll see you when you get home. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Ben looked like he might throw up again and was almost crying.

“How's your mom?” asked Ray.

“OK,” said Ben, closing the phone.

“That's good; how are you?” asked Anne.

“I'm so sorry,” Ben said as he put his head on the table.

“Look, we all make mistakes, and we all have bad circumstances come up in our lives, but you just have to keep getting up.” said Ray.

“We still love you,” said Anne. Her wide smile was as big as ever.

“God loves you, too,” said Ray, “anyone who treats you otherwise is...a damned fool! You're not the problem, and starving isn't the solution.”

“You have to learn to accept yourself,” said Anne, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I'm tired of my mom treating me like this!” Ben looked as upset as Jacob the morning after his wedding.

“I'm sure she loves you and just wants what's best for you,” said Ray, his smile almost as big as Anne's.

“But why does she do this to me?” Ben asked in an anguished tone.

“You have to let go,” said Ray, touching Ben's cold hand.

With a reassuring smile, Anne finally looked into Ben's eyes and said, “'God isn't angry with you; you are angry with God'”

“Are you going to eat those fries?” asked Ben.


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Monday, July 11, 2011

Excerpt from a Tract on God's Name

Where d- v-wels c-me fr-m? It may suprise s-me -f my Christian br-thers wh- arn't aware -f the Jewish faith that v-wels are anti-christ! The creat-r's alphabet has n- v-wels! V-wels are a pagan inventi-n! The KJV says in Leviticus 10:1-2: "And Nadab and Abihu, the s-ns -f Aar-n, t--k either -f them his censer, and put fire therein, and put incense there-n, and -ffered strange fire bef-re the L-RD, which he c-mmanded them n-t. And there went -ut fire fr-m the L-RD, and dev-ured them, and they died bef-re the L-RD."
V-wels are a strange fire that the L-rd did n-t c-mmand! It is c-mm-n, undisputed and undesputable kn-wlege that the -riginal alphabet -f the creat-r (ancient pale--Hebrew) was an abjad (n- v-wels) and we are being dev-ured by the strange v-wels that G-d never intended! V-wels were invented by the pagan Greeks, yet th-se wh- call themselves christian use pagan v-wels!

All v-wels are pagan, but the w-rst -f all is the "O." The "O" c-mes fr-m the pagan Egyptian letter Ir which represents an eye. The KJV says in Pr-verbs 10:10 "He that winketh with the eye causeth s-rr-w: but a prating f--l shall fall." We cause s-rr-w winking with the "O" in -ur writings. Remember Jesus said in Matthew 18:9 "And if thine eye -ffend thee, pluck it -ut, and cast it fr-m thee: it is better f-r thee t- enter int- life with -ne eye, rather than having tw- eyes t- be cast int- hell fire." While it w-uld be better t- rem-ve ALL v-wels fr-m -ur lives, we must pluck -ut the "O" if we want t- enter int- life!

What is the creat-r's name? We call Him L-rd, but that is n-t his name. That is a title. His name is G-d. S-me spell "L-rd" and "G-d" with v-wels, but y-u will n-t -ffer strange fire bef-re Him! The L-rd G-d demands H-liness! Y-u will n-t take the L-rd's name in vain. Th-se wh- use v-wels are breaking the sec-nd c-mmandment! Y-u w-uld n-t bring a gun t- sch--l -r a g-vernment building, thus breaking the sec-nd ammendment, w-uld y-u? s- why w-uld y-u break the sec-nd c-mmandment, calling the L-rd strange names by using v-wels? And they use the w-rst -f all, the "O"; The KJV says in Mark 3:29 "But he that shall blaspheme against the H-ly Gh-st hath never f-rgiveness, but is in danger -f eternal damnati-n." Using pagan v-wels in the Ha'Shem (sacred names), especially the "O," is blaspheming the H-ly Spirit! G-uge -ut the "O"s!!

S-, h-w are the Ha'Shem (The sacred names) t- be pr-n-unced? S-me pr-n-unce them strangely with pagan v-wels, but they are c-rrectly spelled "G-d" and "L-rd," with-ut v-wels. S-, h-w are they pr-n-unced with-ut v-wels? T- make the c-rrect Christian pr-n-unciati-n and n-t break the sec-nd c-mmandment, as with all language, the t-ngue is imp-rtant. The pr-n-unciati-n is very simallar f-r all the -ther letters. F-r the v-weless part, place y-ur t-ngue firmly int- y-ur cheek. That is the c-rrect pr-n-unciati-n -f the Ha'Shem (sacred names).


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Hell and High Water

We promised ourselves
We’d find our promised land;
Through Hell
Or high water,
We’d find our way.
We followed you home,
But you lead us to Hell
And left us high
And dry.
You led us to victory,
Or so we thought,
But you got the victory,
And we got saliva
In our mouths
from hunger,
In our eyes
from hate.
And now it’s too late.

Don’t worry though;)
For your turn is next:)
‘Cause Justice is a noble cause,
Quick
Like sand that traps you,
So your injustice will devour you.
And drag you down
With us
To Hell.
And you will drown.
In your own high water.
On your own high horse.
Getting higher
With every puff
Of injustice.
Every piece of the puzzle
You swallow
To hide it.
You will choke on.
For Justice isn’t dead,
Nor does He sleep,
Injustice shall fail
And Justice prevail.



Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Friday, July 8, 2011

I Can

I cannot shut out the noise, the colors, the distress,
The cacophony of voices in my head,
The kaleidoscope of blinding brightness,
And I feel cold and dark and wet in bed.
And as the sun sets over my enthusiasm,
I become a dead man, ugly like a corpse,
Wandering through a desert like a demon,
Hot and sweaty, dripping with brackish remorse.
No longer making camp in the shifting grains,
I’m climbing mountains of sand to become free,
Searching for rest, yearning to shade the pain,
I’m nearing my breaking point, nearing the peak.
And as the sun sets on my old life
A new day begins and I see the sky.


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Door to Door

CAST OF CHARACTERS 5 m, 2 f, unlimited number of extras: m and f

PASTOR RON- A middle-aged pastor wearing a suit with or without an ecclesiastical robe

VISITATION LEADER- A middle-aged church man wearing a plain shirt, tie, and dress pants

DAN- A judgmental, thirty-something, church man wearing a plain shirt, tie, and dress pants

CHARITY- A flighty, young, church woman wearing a plain ankle-length skirt and blouse, carrying a spiral notepad

HOPE- An emotionally-motivated woman wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals

ATHEIST- A bitter old man wearing boxers and an undershirt, holding a beer

DANIEL- A twenty-something man with long hair wearing a T-shirt and ripped jeans

EXTRAS- Men and women dressed similarly to DAN and CHARITY

TIME: The present.


At Rise: There is a folding table set up with refreshments SR; on the wall behind it there is a banner with the words “Community Connection.” There are three doors set SCR, SCL, and SL: doors #1, #2, and #3 respectively. There is a pulpit SL of door #1 with some folding chairs DS of it. Lights rise. A spotlight shines on PASTOR RON standing at the pulpit SL.

PASTOR RON (to AUDIENCE): As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly.

Light transitions onto table SR. DAN, CHARITY, HOPE, VISITATION LEADER, and EXTRAS are standing in varied places DS of table.

VISITATION LEADER: It sounds from all of your stories so far like the “Community Connection” Campaign is a big success. We'll have a big increase in membership, which means a big increase in funding for the new hi-def, 3D theater screens, and a lot of repentant sinners to rebuke. Can you imagine rebuking sinners in hi-def 3D? It'll be so enriching! So, Dan, Charity, tell us about your visitation tonight.

DAN: Well, the first house we visited...

(Lights transition from table onto door# 1 as DAN, CHARITY, and HOPE walk to door #1; HOPE goes behind door. DAN knocks on door; HOPE opens door, and DAN looks disapprovingly at shorts.)

CHARITY (Looks at notepad and flips a page): Hi, we're your neighbors. (Looks at notepad and flips a page) I'm Charity, and this is Dan. And you are?

HOPE (smiles): I'm Hope.

CHARITY: Oh it's such a spiritual name. (Writes name; slowly flips three pages as she speaks) We're from Fun Exciting Relevant Contemporary Truth Loving Refreshing Enriching Life Righteous Anger Serving Our God Money Community Church with a Hot Tub, and— (Flips page) we're just going out in the community to see what people's needs are.

HOPE: I'm OK, thanks.

DAN: Well, what church d'you attend?

HOPE: I'm...uh...between churches right now.

CHARITY: Oh it's fine. We have a casual, loving environment; we're very “between churches” friendly. It's no pressure at Fun Loving Refreshing Money Community Church with a Hot Tub, and Pastor Ron is so spiritual. Hope, it's been so enriching for me to find God's will for my life.

HOPE (pensively): I do want to know God's will for my life.

CHARITY: What do you like to do? We have lots going on at Fun Exciting Life Money Community Church with a Hot Tub. We have a golf course; we have a pony ranch for the kids; we have an annual dog show; we have God's fireworks every Fourth of July and New Year's. We have a Starbucks; we have a gift shop. We're currently working on getting theater screens for the sanctuary with 3D glasses for everyone. And we have a hot tub, right in the sanctuary. It's so enriching.

HOPE: That sounds nice, but I've been to a few churches that were all about money.

CHARITY: Oh I know! So many churches are like that. It's awful. Money Community Church with a Hot Tub isn't like that at all. It's so enriching.

HOPE: Really? It does sound like a nice place, maybe this church will be different. So you're just going around the neighborhood inviting people to Fun Exciting, uh...Community...Hot Tub? Can I come with?

DAN AND CHARITY: Sure.

(Lights transition from door #1 onto PASTOR RON as DAN, CHARITY, and HOPE walk to door #2; ATHEIST is behind door #2.)

PASTOR RON (to AUDIENCE): The full soul loatheth an honeycomb; but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.

(Lights transition from PASTOR RON onto door #2; DAN knocks on door; ATHEIST opens door, and DAN looks disapprovingly at beer.)

CHARITY (Looks at notepad and flips a page): Hi, we're your neighbors. (Looks at notepad and flips a page) I'm Charity, this is Dan, and, oh this is Hope. And you are?

ATHEIST (angrily): What do ya want?

CHARITY (pauses; slowly flips three pages as she speaks): We're from Fun Exciting Relevant Contemporary Truth Loving Refreshing Enriching Life Righteous Anger Serving Our God Money Community Church with a Hot Tub, and— (Flips page)

ATHEIST (angrily): I'm an atheist. (Closes door; DAN puts foot in door)

CHARITY: Oh we have lots of atheists at Exciting Relevant Loving Money Community Church with a Hot Tub; we're very atheist friendly.

DAN: Why're you so angry? Do you want to burn in Hell for eternity?

ATHEIST: Yeah, I do; that's where the beer is! Religion is just a crutch for the weak mind.

DAN: An' alcohol is a crutch for the weak spirit! Put away your alcohol and turn to God now! You need the Holy Spirit!

ATHEIST: My spirits are stronger than yours!

DAN: Blasphemy!

ATHEIST: Ha! I've backed you into a corner.

DAN: A glass corner that'll shatter. You're gonna burn in Hell forever!

ATHEIST: I will see you there! (Slams door) (Muffled shout through door) And get off my lawn!

(Lights transition from door #2 onto PASTOR RON as DAN, CHARITY, and HOPE walk to door #3; DANIEL is behind door #3.)

PASTOR RON (to AUDIENCE): Many will reject Christ on our account, throw baby Jesus out with the bath water, why? Because of our own hypocrisy, our spiritual vomit!

(Lights transition from PASTOR RON onto door #3; DAN knocks on door; DANIEL opens door, and DAN looks disapprovingly at DANIEL’s hair. Sound effects: loud rock music.)

CHARITY (Looks at notepad and flips a page): Hi, we're your neighbors. (Looks at notepad and flips a page) I'm Charity, this is Dan, and, oh this is Hope. And you are?

DANIEL: Daniel.

CHARITY: Oh we have so much in common; his name is Dan. (Writes name; slowly flips three pages as she speaks) We're from Fun Exciting Relevant Contemporary Truth Loving Refreshing Enriching Life Righteous Anger Serving Our God Money Community Church with a Hot Tub, and— (Flips page) we're just going out in the community to see what people's needs are.

DANIEL: That's good. Helping people is good.

Charity: Oh it's so enriching helping people.

DANIEL: I don't really have any needs right now—

DAN: What church d'you attend?

DANIEL: I'm not really into church that much.

DAN: You an atheist?

DANIEL: Not at all. I used to go to church with a friend in high school.

DAN: Well, you need to get plugged in. Maybe then you'll start listening to some good Christian music.

CHARITY: Daniel, it's so enriching listening to Christian music. At Exciting Relevant Contemporary Money Community Church with a Hot Tub we have CD's for sale online and in the lobby, and Pastor Ron is so spiritual. It's so enriching.

DAN: You need to find God's will for your life.

CHARITY: Oh it's been so enriching for me to find God's will for my life.

DAN: You need to get in a good solid church like Truth Righteous Anger Money Community Church with a Hot Tub if you wanna be ready. I believe The Rapture will be on October 20, 2011. Well, I've been wrong before, so there's really no reason to believe me, I just think it. Jesus mockers, homos an' lesbos, porno freaks, drunkards, Muslims, Buddhists, unsubmissive wives, money lovers, unloving husbands, thieves, rebellious children, liars, lazy Christians, racists, Mormons, fornicators, Roman Catholics, adulterers, an' baby killing women: God will judge you all!

DANIEL: Geez, why don't you make a sign and yell at people on campus?

DAN: I do!

DANIEL: I can't stand judgmental Christians. Churches should be helping people who need help, not harassing innocent bystanders.

CHARITY: Oh I know. That's why I'm so glad I'm a member of Fun Relevant Loving Money Community Church with a Hot Tub; we're not like that at all. We're all about helping people.

DANIEL: Really? What's Fun, Contemporary...uh, Church with a Hot Tub like?

HOPE: Exciting, Community Church with a Hot Tub is a wonderful place. There's a hot tub! And we really do care for the needy.

CHARITY: Oh it's so enriching.

DANIEL: Maybe I will try Contemporary...Serving, uh, Church with a Hot Tub.

CHARITY: Great!

HOPE: See you Sunday.

DAN: An' get a haircut!

(Lights transition from door #3 onto PASTOR RON, and folding chairs as DAN, CHARITY, HOPE, and DANIEL walk to folding chairs and sit)

PASTOR RON (to AUDIENCE): Let us bow our heads in prayer. (DAN, CHARITY, HOPE, and DANIEL Bow their heads) Lord, we beseech thee by thy infinite mercies to give us the strength and wisdom not to return to our spiritual vomit. Father, give us a hedge of protection around our hearts and minds that we may serve thee faithfully and not bow to the pressures of this life. And all God’s people said:

DAN, CHARITY, HOPE, DANIEL, and PASTOR RON: Amen.

PASTOR RON: And amen.

(Lights down.)


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Sunday, July 3, 2011

A Good Mother

A good mother is hard to find;
She is like a life preserver
In a raging sea,
Like a feast in famine.
Where is the love I was promised?
Or was I promised?
Promises like tears raining down
Slapping the ground rhythmically
Is she my mother?
Like a brick life preserver,
A death preserver.

A good mother is hard to find,
But you are like a love preserver
In a raging world,
My feast in famine.
Where is the love I was promised?
Do you have it?
Love falls from your heart like rain
Absorbing into the hardened concrete of my soul
You are my real mother!
My life preserver,
My love preserver.


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Friday, July 1, 2011

Camping

It's the worst camping trip I ever had, and the experiences affect me to this day. It's the summer I turn sixteen. I'm going camping with my friend, Jamie Hurtson, and Jamie's father, Jim, and mother, Janet. Jim is overweight, mostly in his stomach. He has a dark, full beard, and sunglasses, he wears a gray, polo shirt that makes him look fatter than he really is. Janet wears a long blue skirt and that makes her long, thin body look thinner and weirder than usual. Mr. and Mrs. Hurtson look like one of those silly comedy duos from those black-and-white movies my father and his friends like to watch, like Laurel and Hardy, or Abbot and Costello. I'm so excited! My parents drop me off at Jamie's house, where the Hurtsons are squabbling as usual.

“There's too much stuff,” Janet says.

“I just want to be prepared. We're late, will you hurry up!” says, Jim.

“OK, OK, I just don't want to forget to do anything before we go.” Janet replies.

They have a trailer, a small white one, in their driveway. It's overloaded with junk, olive-green tents, multicolored folding chairs, two brown doormats (yes, doormats) that say “Welcome” on them, burgundy curtains, a gray La-Z-Boy, clothes of all different sizes and styles, for men and women, store-bought firewood packaged in white paper, industrial-sized bug spray in an eerie, black canister, the size of a lamp, a huge, blue vat of sunscreen, and enough food to last for two months. Incidentally, the trip is to be for three days, over the weekend.

On the way to the park, we have to stop several times, because the overloaded trailer is breaking. Eventually, we have to stop at an auto repair shop to have the wheels of the trailer fixed. The fixed wheels help, but the trailer still sags under the weight. When something carries a burden, it has to be relieved; the problem can be ignored, but it will keep being a problem until it is relieved.

When we get to the campground, we start setting up the tents. Jim is yelling, because Jamie's doing it wrong. Jamie should be a boy. That's what Jim and Janet wanted. They were very disappointed when she wasn't. She still has to dress like a girl, wear dresses and skirts, and long hair, but she has to act like a boy, be tough when she hurts, carry things for her lazy father, put up tents. Jamie is kind of short. Her hair is short too, like a girls' basketball coach. She wears a pink skirt, which looks like a bad idea; it is not conducive to holding tent pegs, especially pegs that are farther apart than her height.

“Jamie, you're not doing it right!”

“I'm trying!”

“Don't snap at me! Now fix it!”

“I'm sorry.” There is a tear in her eye.

“Just fix it,” he says angrily.

“Here, I'll help you,” I offer. “It's not your fault.” I whisper.

“Oh, you don't have to do that,” Jim said, sweetly smiling. “Are you going to let her do your work for you, Jamie? Hurry up!”

“I don't mind,” I say.

“You just sit down,” he says firmly, “you don't have to do anything.” He smiles, but his smile quickly melts to a frown. “Jamie! Get with it!” he says peevishly.

I sit down. They finally get the tents up on the dirty ground, and Janet puts the welcome mats out in front of the tents.

“There, that will keep the dirt out,” she chirps.

But the only way to keep the dirt out is to stop walking in it.

The trailer is now emptied, but the tents are very full, especially Jim and Janet's tent. It is stuffed with a La-Z-Boy, a portable T.V., a small refrigerator, and an assortment of camping implements that make the tent bulge and nearly poke out of the zippered door. The tent looks like it will burst under the pressure.

“You girls be ready for dinner, we'll eat in half an hour,” Jim calls out.

“OK,” we answer from inside our tent.

“Why does your father yell so much?” I ask, “He frightens me.”

“He just wants me to be good at things. I wish I were better.” She sighs.

“It's not your fault, you know. You shouldn't blame yourself for how he treats you.”

“I should just do what he says, but I really do try!”

“Are you talking about the tent pegs?” I ask. “You couldn't possibly have done that, for one thing, you aren't dressed for it, and for another, you aren't tall enough to span that length.”

“If only I was taller!”

“You can't be taller, but you could stand higher if you unload the burden you've gotten from him.”

“Why can't I be better at the things he likes? I'm so clumsy!”

“You have to stop burying your shame with these lies. It's his fault that you feel so inadequate.”

“Thanks for talking to me.” Tears are running down her eyes like rain on a window, the way you can see the raindrops run down a dirty window, clearing little streaks of dirt away.

Janet calls out to us inaudibly and comes into the tent. “Oh, girls! You've tracked dirt into the tent”

“We're sorry,” says Jamie.

“That's what the mats are for,” Janet says, “Why didn't you wipe your feet?” she asks.

“We did, I mean we tried to,” says Jamie.

“Obviously not,” says Janet

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Hurtson,” I say.

“Jamie, why can't you be more neat and clean?” Janet asks, “Well you are cleaning this up, Jamie,” she says, “Next time, use the mat!” Janet leaves.

“Why can't I just be better?” cries Jamie.

“The dirt won't go away unless you stop walking in it; in a place like this, even a doormat won’t keep it out.” I say

“It's no use,” Jamie says, “I'm just not good enough; I'll never be good enough.”

“Stop feeling badly about things you can't control,” I say, “you need to let go if you want to stop recycling your problems”

“You're a good friend,” she says.

“Thanks,” I say.

After dinner, we get ready for bed. We go up to the camp bathrooms to brush our teeth and so on. The bathrooms are old-looking, and the gray brick is worn and dirty. With the dark sky the whole scene is rather eerie. There are two separate bathrooms (not counting the men's rooms); I go to the one on the left, and Janet goes to the one on the right. It is dark inside, and there is a slight, high-pitched wind blowing through a vent opening near the low ceiling. I am in the stall when I hear footsteps. They are slow and slight, and even though they frighten me a little, I am sure they belong to Jamie. Then I see a dark silhouette entering; it is a man. He has on a wrinkly shirt, but I can't see his face. I am frightened and shaking.

“Excuse me?” I call out.

“Oops, sorry.” He sounds nervous.

He leaves, and I sigh; I am relieved; it was just a mistake. I don't think about it much afterwards. Then I hear slight footsteps again. I feel uneasy.

It is the same young man in the wrinkly shirt. Even the ladies sign doesn't keep him out. He walks slowly towards me. I am paralyzed with fear; I can't even scream. He comes closer, slowly. He is muscular. I can see, from in the back lighting around him, that the color of his shirt is red. The light around him makes him look like an angel. I begin to make out his face a little; he has stubble under his neck and an odd, twisted smile, I can see his eyes, they are at once dark yet full of life. They are shockingly wide open yet glassed over; they look wild and empty, like an animal's. They are penetrating. I shudder. I see his torn jeans are completely worn out in the knees. I see that his jeans tent and bulge, and his implement is nearly poking out of the zippered door. He looks like he will burst under the pressure. I see that he has a pink pill between his thumb and his index finger which looks like a bad idea.

“Aaaaaaaa!” I scream a shrill scream that hurts my own ears.

The man with the pill runs away quickly. I run to the other bathroom and knock on the door and scream for “Mrs. Hurtson!”

“What?” She opens the door.

“A man, there was a man!” I pant. “He came in!” I still pant. “I screamed before you didn't heard me!”

“What?” she asks.

“There was a man. I screamed. Didn't you hear me?” I pant and shiver.

“No, I guess I didn't hear you. What did this man do?” she says.

“He came towards me twice! He came a pill. With a pill.”

“A pill? Well, where is he?”

“He ran off away,” I reply

“Let's go get Jim.” she says.

We go to Jim and she talks to him and he comes to me.

“Are you OK?” he asks.

“I want to go home!” I say.

“It's OK; we'll be OK.”

“Maybe we should go,” says Janet.

“We'll be OK until morning. Try to get some sleep,” he says.

I don't sleep. In the morning it rains, so we pack up and drive home. On the drive home, I think about the experience I had. Why did it happen? Did I do something to encourage the man with the pill? Could I have stopped him? There had been tape on the door knob, so I hadn't locked it; I thought it was broken. Could I have locked it? Ever since that night I've felt dirty and bad, like damaged goods. I've often wondered what's wrong with me. I'm still not sure if I wasn't partly to blame. I feel so ashamed!


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Don't Go There

God bless the heartless
As they cloak themselves in darkness
For their souls
Are empty
Like rotting corpses
Their hearts not beating anymore
Their hearts decay
As they descend into the grave.
“Don’t go there!”

No longer does the corpse cry out for help.
He doesn’t care.
If you try to help him,
If you dig up his grave,
He will only be a stinker.
“Don’t go there!”

Though he is dead,
He will rebuff you
Fighting harder than any immortal being could;
If you try to talk to him,
He will not answer.
Except to say:
“Don’t go there!”


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

That Old Building

Some say that old building is haunted; others say that the figure seen inside is just the custodian. Whatever the figure is, a ghost or a janitor, I don't know, but I will tell of another version I heard from my pastor. "That old building" I mentioned is the one with the steeple, the stained glass, and the pews. That figure seen, according to my pastor, is God. On Sunday, God is in His prime. He fellowships with His children; He speaks through the pastor; once in a while he'll even work a miracle (as long as there's time in the schedule). Come Monday, however, everyone's gone, and He's left all alone. It's not that He doesn't want to be with them, but the disturbing truth is...

God is trapped in that old building! He can't get out! Some say He's there to protect Him from the outside; others say He's there by some command; still others say that the building itself has such a power that even God cannot escape. Whatever the reason, try as He may to go through a door, a window, or a wall, He cannot get out.

On Tuesday, a group of men is praying; they need answers fast, but God's ears are too dull to hear them. Perhaps if they'd come inside. On Wednesday, God sees some passers by. He cries to them, but the immense walls muffle His words, and the stained glass distorts His visage. They don't know whom He is. On Thursday, a woman prays in her house; she desperately needs healing, but God's arms are too short to save her, trapped in that old building. On Friday, two teens are trying to study the scriptures; they want to know God, but He's not in the Bible; He's in that old building. They can't hear Him through the walls. By Saturday, God gives up on trying to escape and waits for Sunday to come.

On Sunday, everyone comes back; they've all missed God so much that they make a decision: "Let's have our service here every day!" Consequently, most of them have to abandon their families and jobs, but God doesn't mind, because He was lonely all by Himself in that old building.


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Parade

All are mummers
In a mummers parade
Floating through The Fall
Of ticker-tape.

Marching in line
Ready for inspection,
It’s a demonstration, but for whom?
Is the pirate krewe
The motorcade we follow?
The lawless ones
Who float to war so quickly.

What holiday are we celebrating?
Whose color do we guard?
And on whose stage
Are we riding?
Who is the twirler of that hallowed baton?
Does he approve our callithump?
For the wedding of the Nephilim root,
The iron and clay?
Is he a potter or a smelter of iron?

Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

A Son's Gambit

CAST OF CHARACTERS 2 m

DAD- A forty-something male

SON- A twenty-something male

TIME: The present.

At Rise: Lights rise. SON and DAD are sitting at a table CS playing chess with a game clock. SON is playing white. Behind them is a screen on which a close-up of the chess game is projected.

SON (plays d4): I haven't seen you much lately. (Presses game clock button)

DAD: Yeah. (Plays d5; presses game clock button)

(SON pauses, looks at DAD, then plays c4; presses game clock button.)

DAD: Queen's Gambit, huh?

SON: There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about.

DAD (smiles): A bold move, but I think I'll decline. (Plays e6; presses game clock button)

SON: Can't we have a real conversation for once?

DAD (looks SON in the eyes): OK. When am I gonna see you in church?

SON (sighs): Dad, I...uh...You know I can't go back to that life.

DAD: That's what I thought. Your mother has wept and prayed for you and lost sleep for countless nights.

SON: It's not as if I don't believe in Jesus anymore. (Plays Nf3; presses game clock button) I just don't like your particular interpretation of Him.

DAD: Why are you upset? (Plays Bb4) You're the one who wanted a real conversation. (Hits game clock button)

SON: That's not what I'm talking about. (plays Qd2; slams game clock button) You always do this. You've always done this! You turn everything around the wrong way.

DAD: And you've always blamed me for everything! (Plays Nc6; slams game clock button hard) Why don't you accept responsibility?

SON: I'm not trying to blame anyone. (Plays a3; presses game clock button) I just want to understand--

DAD: You'll never get me. (Plays Bxd2; presses game clock button) (Chuckling) Got your queen.

(SON plays Nfxd2; presses game clock button. DAD is concentrating on board.)

SON: Dad, I...What was your father like? I mean, how did he treat you?

DAD: Seriously? (Plays Nxd4) Don't even bother. (Presses game clock button)

SON: Huh? (Plays e3; presses game clock button)

DAD: I told you, (Plays Nc2+) you'll never get me. (Presses game clock button) Check.

SON (plays Kd1): You never really talk about him. (Presses game clock button)

DAD (plays Nxa1): How's that? (Presses game clock button)

SON: Did he ever treat you with love... (Plays cxd5) ...or affection? (Presses game clock button) I mean--

DAD: I never lacked anything! (Plays exd5) I always had food enough and clothes and shelter. (Slams game clock button)

SON: There's more to life than food and shelter! (Plays Bb5; slams game clock button)

DAD: Just what are you getting at? (Plays c6; hits game clock button)
SON: I just want to understand why you are the way you are. (Plays Ba4; hits game clock button)

DAD (plays Qg5): What does that mean? (Slams game clock button hard)

SON: I...Um... (Plays f4; presses game clock button)

DAD (plays Qg4+): Check. (Slams game clock button) What do you want from me?

SON (plays Ke1; slams game clock button hard) (Anguished): I just want peace!

DAD: Well, you'll never have peace acting this way! (Plays Qh4+) Check. (Slams game clock button hard) Get a hold of yourself, son!

SON: What have I done wrong that you treat me like this? (Plays Kd1; slams game clock button) Why have you always treated me like this?

DAD (Plays Bg4+): Check. (Slams game clock button)

SON (plays Nf3): Why do you act so aloof? (Slams game clock button)

(DAD sighs and plays Qg1; hits game clock button.)

SON (plays Re1): Answer me, damnit! (Slams game clock button hard)

DAD: Don't talk to me that way!

Son: Look...I'm sorry, I'm just tired of you treating me this way!

DAD: There you go blaming me again! Why do you have these outbursts? You need to control yourself and stop acting like this! And what kind of language is that anyway? (Plays Bxf3+) Check. You sure didn't learn that from your mother and me, did you?! (Slams game clock button hard) And how have I ever treated you wrong?

SON (furrows eyebrow; plays Re2; hits game clock button) (Softly): Can't you just be nice and stop hurting me?

DAD (plays Qxe2#): Checkmate. (Presses game clock button)

SON (after pause): You know, I used to get so upset when you'd beaten me, but now, I don't care. I cried myself to sleep countless nights. I felt so destroyed by you for so long. I don't even care anymore.

DAD: Well, being composed is an important skill in chess. If you can't control yourself you'll never be a good player. That's why I'm so good. I'm always under control; I don't let my emotions run away.

SON: I'm not talking about the game, Dad. (Walks off-stage L)

(DAD looks puzzled. Lights down.)


Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Nounia

Bob sat in front of his T.V. set with a frozen dinner and a Diet Coke. His eyes glossed as he skipped forward through the ads, but something made him stop.

"Do you have trouble thinking of the right word?" the soothingly unisex-voiced announcer asked.

Bob thought about his social awkwardness and the forgetfulness he was dawning on as he reached 40.

"Can you describe something to the smallest detail, but can't think of what it's called? Do you sometimes use the wrong noun at the right time? These could be signs of a legitimate medical condition called Noun Type Neurodeficiency Forgetfulness Syndrome, or NTNDFS, commonly called Noun Loss. People with Noun Loss may have trouble remembering names, explaining concepts, defending themselves in court, writing poetry, or carrying on a conversation the way they used to."

"Yes," Bob thought to himself, "I have trouble remembering names."

"But thanks to medical science we now have Nounia."
From here the ad began to show people shopping, bicycling, swimming, and playing with their grandkids.

"What if I have Noun Loss?" Bob muttered.

"Nounia is the first FDA approved drug for the treatment of Noun Loss, so you know it's safe. Nounia can help those with Noun Loss take back their nouns, and take back their lives."

"I need Nounia!" Bob shouted.

Presently a young white doctor with blue eyes and perfect teeth appeared. "Don't take Nounia if you are nursing, pregnant, or sexually active; the most common side effects with Nounia are memory loss, dizziness, dry lungs, constipation, diarrhea, increased gambling and sexual urges, swearing, wanting to play or listen to music, and uncontrollable hair growth. Do not operate light machinery or read Shakespeare out loud while on Nounia; do not ride a tandem bicycle until you know how Nounia will affect you. Occasional and rare side effects may include death, vomiting, loss of speech, paralyzation, and boredom with office meetings; if you experience a yellowish rash three quarters of the way up your ribs on the left, call your doctor immediately and stop taking Nounia."

Bob was enthralled by the dancing of the pixels on the screen and the hypnotizing sound in his ears.

"Take back your nouns, take back your life, with Nounia."

Bob immediately called his doctor who heartily recommended Nounia. The first time he took it, Bob sleep-walked into a lake, but neither the lake nor the inexplicable loss of every bit of the cartilage in his body is what killed Bob; what killed him was the fact that his heart burst - literally exploded. Bob's family started a class-action lawsuit against the company that made Nounia (Witchdoctor-Graft, makers of Verbatim); Nounia was subsequently pulled from the market. I believe Witchdoctor-Graft is now selling the same drug under a different name, though I can't recall what.

Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)