To My Haters

This is a note to my haters,
Really hope I’ll see you later,
I won’t be a tattle taler,
Naw, you won’t receive that letter.
Not here, not ever
Again, if I can do better.
Think, I think I can do better.

Snicker at me with all you’ve got,
Guess what, giggle-huts, I’ll just give it to God,
Yeah, and what was I thinking when I said that you should watch
Your step around me? Don’t do it, I was wrong.
Nah, dance about freely, I got toes for days, I was wrong.

No wonder I was stopped up in my walk,
I thought I had to boss my own thoughts–I was wrong,
Honest, this walk’s not such a respectable trot,
Guess I’m kinda off to a ball, but that’s not all,
No, I can’t just stroll along like I’m so tall.
‘Cause I’m not… ‘Cause I’m not, I was wrong.

So this is for my haters,
The rest too, if you can relate it,
You might think I’m just ugrateful,
And I’m not saying that your gate is
Somehow more open than faded,
Like your ropes are way more frayed and
Like you’re coping inappropriately–Crazy!
No, I’d rather that you hate me, rather that you face me.

Somehow I just keep on, keep on getting this wrong,
And I know my moods are messed up, this life is so long,
But I can’t complain, my hope is way more strong
Than my endless, self-pitying soliloquy song.
Why would I yell and scream when I could just come along,
Sing a silly song, make a stupid face and pray alone?

And that’s the next little bit,
I’m getting apologetic,
I’m heady, it’s allergenic,
But it’s better for you if I spin this.
Friggin’ anxiety, you’re never gonna win this.

I’m never gonna quit.
I know what I believe, that’s it,
You’re never gonna change the way I think,
I’m already transplanted to a kingdom that is Big.
It was a price too great for me, only One coulda done it.
And you know it, I’ve said it,
Won’t beat you over the head with it,
That’s counterprodutive, think I might be offended
By the way I have manipulated the truth in my defense.

Doesn’t make me right,
It means I want to win this fight,
I know I don’t seem so bright,
But I know I really love my wife,
And in time even life,
You’d be surprised at what I’ll find,
Just need time, if I can drink the wine,
My Helper’s with me all the time.
Don’t need to tell you He’s always on my mind.

I guess I’ll try to be cleverer with it,
But I promise I’ll keep trying not to be offense,
That’s not what I want, I get lonely and tense,
I keep on jabbering, but I just want silence.
All that to say that I’m sorry,
I keep thinking I’m more than ten storeys,
Pretty stupid that I could want glory,
So I’ll say it again, I’m really sorry.

Desert Water

There is a place in a desert far away
Where near every day, the children come to play
In the streets, in the dirt, where dust devils dance so brave.

There’s no water in the air,
Dry as hell, and they don’t care.
Ground’s so parched, it’s shiny bare,
Cracked like charcoal after fire.

And sometimes, they all run inside,
The alarm bells scream, all run and hide!
Run and hide!
The watermen are coming, hide your children,
Hide your wife!
Waterjets are rumbling, cracks are filling,
Flood their life!
“This desert life is grumbling,
Only full of strife.”

Then the watermen leave,
Roll up the hoses, retreat,
No one would listen, soaked up to their knees,
Why do the needy not accept reprieve?
Desert folk aren’t broke,
No, they’re tougher than you’re told,
They don’t complain about the load,
They just rebuild, the mud will go.

But look! The lonely well boy,
Not like the watermen, he has joy,
Doesn’t flood the ground, no he just joins
And has enough for everyone, never annoyed.

He bears scars, too, bad ones,
But his eyes are true, like they had more once,
But that’s not now, no, he just runs
Points to what’s in store for hope and for love,
Plenty of water for all the thirsty ones,
Never flood a dry place with more than it wants.

His road isn’t easy,
It’s filled with troubled ev’nings,
Dry mornings and this heat seethes,
But there’s enough for the journey,
Water from a well gives freely,
And in time we see the desert wasn’t really.

There’s an oasis in a place far away
Where the grass has grown where the children play,
And life comes back, yeah, day by day,
Watermen left, oh they ran away,
But the well-water-boy stayed,
Left a flask of water that won’t run out or break.

Need a Saviour

I just want to write,
That too much to bite
Off my ear in a fight?
Didn’t think you were right,
I just keep holding so tight,
I’m so not here to fight…

Agh, critics’ll criticize, I just keep killin’ lies,
Lemme emphasize, emphatic eyes’ll never cry,
It’s the empathetic, call ’em all pathetic, but why try?
It’s the imperfections, not our predilections, that’ll count when we die.

Sipping on insipid, scripted, soul-slipping tea,
We’re quittin’ on the Scriptures when we single out the saddest preen,
Honestly, lets be, we think we have need to be bossy,
Get your name embossed at the foot of the tree,
Like your life’s more free
When you’re still working all self-righteously,
Been at this way longer than me,
Or you’re more carefree,
Just do less than me,
Compare yourselves in greed,
But leave me out, I plead.
Honestly, have mercy.

I just really wanted peace,
Desperate to feel free,
And it took a while for me,
Listened to the enemy,
And I’m shakin’ at the knees,
But now I’m in Messiah’s glee.

Am I here for cleverness?
Or is that just the way you think?
Clever is as clever does,
But heaven’s there for those who love.
I can’t act like I’m a dove,
Innocent, unbound from stuff,
No, my life gets more than rough,
I think things that’d make you cough,
Hurt myself real bad, but trust,
God’s my target? My trajectory’s not off,
Heaven’s not a market, we get rejected enough.

Heaven is not a market; we’re already rejected enough.

Planets plummeting from their perilous prate,
Praying to their puny people to preserve their pallid face,
Pulling on the plushy pleather pumps, perpetuate,
Parade the strings, pamper the laces, pull them to their proper place.

It’s sadder that
We all fall flat,
That anger’s at
The front and back
Door and you can’t
Hide panic attacks,
Like gossip can,
Permissions fall and,
Reputations stand,
Boundaries can’t
Pleasure like hate can.

There is no orbit-fixer tourniquette,
No Band-Aid we can build to turn us back,
This momentum is for good and bad,
We do not get to choose our land,
How on earth could we go back?
How on earth could we go back?

We need a Saviour,
Somebody to labour,
And fix all we’ve taken,
Restore what we’re breaking,
Overlook our mistaking
Love for masturbating,
Grace for hashtagging,
Mercy for group-haggling,
Change for #occupying,
Movement for social network savvy,

We’ve been trading without limit,
Invention for advertisement,
Innovation for a profit,
Equality for equal-riot.

Don’t you think we need a change?
Like maybe there could be a way?
If someone out there could help us take
A hold of things and build not break,
Maybe we’d follow his way,
And then we’d know that we’re not fake.

Wouldn’t that be neat?
How could that be beat?
What if that’s what’s permanently
Offered to us, a gift for free?
Would you take hold of mercy
If that was what you really need?
And if you could really see,
Would we ever scream for peace?

It’s Jesus, guys,
I’m not telling lies,
The Son of God died,
Don’t let that surprise
You, He’s love emphasized,
Perfection abides,
In your heart and mine,
If you believe He’s on High,
Jesus died, and rose again! Why?
Because He flipping loves You, does not want you to die.


I just got back from my therapist,
Told her ’bout where I’m at in this,
Sometimes I feel like I’m aware of slits,
Like I can hop out through the fabric’s rip,And if I hang around in there, I’ll trip.

And I’m amazed at this,
Feels like my brain’s in fits,
But my heart, my center sits
In safe places, in heavenly kit.
I feel like I’m unstoppable,
But slow motion like bullet-time mode,
I’m running on home, hope as my rope,
I’m coming unglued, but that’s how I let go,
I scream when I’m broke, I’m often alone…
But Almighty God knows, oh oh, Jesus knows.

So I’m amazed at this,
Feels like my brain’s in fits,
But at my heart, my center sits,
In safe places, in heavenly kit.

And I keep hiding from it,
The truth is I’m pretty much shit,
But that’s my old sweater, knit
From bad weather and a thrown-away kilt,
It doesn’t fit, I’m not here for this.

So I’m amazed, in fits,
Feels like my name’s on this,
But at my heart my center sits,
In safe places, in heavenly kit.

See, the truth is, I’m home,
At heart, at the safe place in my soul,
God glows, sets fires that don’t go,
More than a fireplace, this heat flows,
From the perfect, forever Bastion of Love.

And I’m amazed! It fits!
Because I came upon this,
Before I knew my center sits,
In safe places, in heavenly kit!

Are you hearing this? Are you reading these words?
Can you breathe quips all day long? It’s absurd.
Eventually what you’re saying is heard,
Some day your whole life will turn backwards,
And you will fail yourself just as well as old hurts.

And I’m amazed, in fits,
Because my name’s not on this,
But at my heart, my center sits,
In safe places, in heavenly kit.

I stayed at rock bottom,
Lost faith in my faith when
I came to my end,
Showed up empty-handed.
So empty handed…
That I couldn’t handle,
This broken candle,
Melted on down, fell to the ground,
Became one with the gravel.
Who could tattle?

Death rattled…

so I’m amazed in fits
because my name’s not on this
but at my heart my center sits
in safe places, in heavenly kit

Death rattled.
Mind so addled…
I couldn’t battle.

So I fell.
To hell.

God caught me there.
Stopped my despair,
Just before I scrapped a bear,
Pulled me back from there…

And I’m amazed. It fits.
My God’s Name is not on this,
But at my heart, my center is,
In safe places, told I’m His kid.

Lost faith in my faith,
I didn’t say I found it again,
I said I was caught by my Dad.
I said that I’m so glad.
But I never found that again.


‚ÄčThis is a cautionary tale,
Written in case your conscience fails,
Little dancing words with a promise of faith,
Don’t think it’s absurd, I’m just delivering mail.

It started just the same,
In a Garden without blame,
Found my pardon from old shame,
But I sold it, gave it away.
Now I will tell you about how I slaved,
So you can avoid this quicksand if you pray.

Please avoid this quicksand if you pray…

There’s an ancient enemy
Wagglin’ arms like an anemone,
“What about amending these?”
My oh my, I’m mending, please,
Mind my mind, I’m upending my me.

Losing my identity,
Righteousness trumps my sanity,
Do the right thing, it’s all vanity,
Everything’s sin, relentless gravity,
Put me in a box, lock up my depravity,
But next week, or next month, I’m back with glee.

That’s how far Adam and Eve
Brought us forward evolutionarily,
Great triumph indeed, this insanity,
Knowing what good and evil are is greed,
Why couldn’t they choose life? We’re desperate in need.
But bring us to the Garden and we sing the same soliloquy.

When He says “Go straight”
Oh, don’t turn around or wait,
I promise, it’ll be too late,
The consequences are so great,
You’ll break your heart over your faith,
And demonize your one safe place.
You’ll break your mind, your precious brain,
Don’t do this thing, you’ll go insane…

This is what sacrifice relayed,
Overthrowing darkness in your head,
Time after time, day after day,
Renewing a broken conscience we flayed,
But what’s the point of a one-off play
If you do it again and again every day?
If Jesus died for us, what do we say?
“Do it again”? Or, “Help us today”?
We wanna blend in? Or we’ll worship and praise?

If the worship in your praise is just a song,
Elation will become the addiction that you long
For, and doctrine will be your salvation psalm,
Instead of love that bled so we could come along.

We can’t take more than one step at a time,
God doesn’t mind trees of different kinds,
We’re rooted in Christ for our forever lives,
Why would we admire what has already died?

Forward, that’s all,
Onward, you won’t fall,
What’s next? We may crawl,
But we never quit, not with God.

No, we never quit, not with God.

You May Kill Me

There’s a coin on the ground,
It’s lost, but now found,
But swarmed on all sides by a crowd,
Surrounded on all sides by the crowd.

Please, you stepped on it, go left,
My treasure’s your defective step,
Just move out of the way, let me, let,
Me just reach out and grab this present.

Timid little child crowded by wild,
Angry, smart men and women in full stride,
They step on small fingers, carry on with pride,
Grinning, they grin while they stomp on his cries.

Anger, anger, they’re preaching,
But desp’rate, the child continues reaching,
“Don’t let them near you,” is all that they’re teaching,
But stomping, they grin, only the tall receive healing.

But when his little fingers brushed the coin,
The entire crowd turned tail and joined,
Like vultures, the flock swarms the small boy,
And choking, they strip him, devoid him of joy.
Throw up the labels: “Avoid this small boy.”
Start self-defending, say “It’s our employ.”

Start again from the back of the pack,
That treasure was too great to give back,
So much more like a feast than these snacks,
He’ll search it again while they have heart attacks.

All the way, the little boy says,
“You may kill me,” when they slay,
And “I forgive you,” every day,
And he gets angry in the haze,
It’s unfair, they call him names,
But he won’t quit, no sir, no way,
That treasure is waiting, real faith to belay.

So step on my coin,
But don’t pretend to join
Unless you really point
To the Father through His Son.

Jeremiah v. Jerome

Who made you so old?
Told you how to go?
What do you sow?
You’re falling, Jerome.
You’re falling like Rome.

Oh you’re one for defiance, I see,
You love your Messiah’s feet
While I’m wise in propriety,
No wonder you’re Jeremiah, weak,
Man of which god? I thought you could speak.
Point fingers and blame, 
You’ve forgotten one name,
Middle one’s my refrain,
Jehovah is God, Joel’s prayin’,
Jesus will help me, not call me names.

You think that your quiet
Could somehow deny it,
But I’ve seen you dying
And there’s naught else for trying,
Let’s face it, resign it.

You’re missing my namesake,
Honest, hope that you break,
I’m a warrior at heart, stomping on snakes,
Once just an insult, I am a Wiebe, plain,
And I will fight in worship and praise.

Picking at your denomer
Like it’ll hit you a homer,
But you’re already disowned, hurt,
What more could you be worth?
You lost, there’s nothing left to burn.

Oh Jerome, why can’t you go home?
Just leave me alone, you’re hopeless intoned,
I’ve eyes through this scope, you’re empty, can’t cope,
I’m a man of truth that you can’t dethrone,
‘Cause I’m not the One Who seats me at Home.

AAAAAGH! Hopeless! You don’t listen.
All of my penance is useless in this prison,
You will not listen, I’m screaming, make decisions!
Your life is not perfect, here, make this incision,
Let’s run in discontent, I can’t be religious.

Your words are dying,
Your eyes dry from crying,
That’s why I’m reminding
You of what Messiah did,
Because of what Messiah did.


Ishmael promised the best,
But he only provided the test,
Isaac is waiting in the wings of the tent,
Ready to walk with me when I’m not hellbent,
So get ready, let’s just go to heaven,
All of this death in me will fall from my hands.

Ichabod’s dethroned,
Your character’s not borrowed,
Freely given gift, don’t be morose.
Cry, “Off with his head,” and onward we go,
Ichabod’s dead, don’t spare him sorrow.