Category Archives: cultural battles

PEBBLE PETER AND OTHER STORIES

PEBBLE PETER AND OTHER STORIES

Remember Peter the Pebble*

Who never spoke in treble…

Whose heart was base

Til Jesus faced

Him and changed Peter into new metal!

Paul, 1st Century ground-pounder,

Took it seriously not to flounder…

Barnabas and he

Might have to flee,

Returning when control was sounder!

The Apostles traditionally

Took God’s Word internationally…

Jerusalem and out

Evangelists stout,

Struggled to set people free.

—Jonathan Caswell

* Refers to “Peter the Pebble,” a poem in the author’s book, SPIRIT-LED LIMERICKS AND OTHER CHRISTIAN POETRY, available at amazon.com and elsewhere!

TRIBUTE TO A ROSE

TRIBUTE TO A ROSE

My friend Roy Rose has passed.

Last might ended his task…

Of making

The Gospel taking

To whomever he could catch~

His intensity aside,

Chose to in Jesus abide…

Colored by his religion

His opinion, a smigeon,

Was avoided far and wide.

Cantankerous was he,

He and my wife never agreed…

Both hard of hearing

Arrayed in a clearing

They’d prepare for emnity!

Old Roy Rose is gone,

I trust he hears angel somg…

He and I

Knew how to get by.

And kept our fellowship strong.

–Jonathan Caswell

MY PRECONCEIVED NOTIONS

MY PRECONCEIVED NOTIONS

He heard I knew one of his

Church members vis-a-vis…

My time in Rehab==

Decided to grab

An invite he knew I’d miss.

My prejudice against him

Are assumptins he thinks I work in…

Or are they true?

Upon review,

Similar to what I hold against him?

His woeking of the Spirit autocratic,

Where no one else better attack it…

I claim an open mind

But when honest find,

Some ideas aren’t automatic!

I think I’m more mature than him,

As a matter of observing, not whim…

A simpler faith

He sticks to it straight,

Pefrforming with an energetic vim1

He and I in our respective “kinds”

Have some poor experience in mind…

Where both were hurt

By the other hair-shirt*,

Which experiences put me in a bind.

I barely get to my own church now,

So I’m expected to go to his somehow…?

Although a change

Might rearrange

An attitude better than now.

–Jonathan Caswell

NOT WORTH THE SALT

NOT WORTH THE SALT…!

Last week in panicked gestalt,

He ate himself sick by default…

Too much processed food

Made his breathing oclude,

In the end it wasn’t worth all that salt!

–Jonathan Caswell

BEEF AND BROCCOLI–CRAB RANGOON

BEEF AND BROCCOLI–CRAB RANGOON

Beef and broccoli, crab rangoon,

Yan’s* will bring my solace soon…

Encouragement by special treat

Something enjoyable to eat,

Helps him remember a happy tine!  🙂

–Jonathan Caswell

* Yan’s…a local Chinese restaurant that doesn’t use MSG in its cooking.

CAN’T YOU WALK STRAIGHT…YET?????

CAN;T YOU WALK STRAIGHT…YET?????

(An amputee’s frustration)

He thought he’d be better by now,

Not tottering like a sick cow…

The amputee

Angrily,

Hated himself  right now.

Was writing his work epitaph

The next step on his behalf…

A frustrating deal,

The wound won’t heal

With nothing about it to laugh.

He used to limp before,

Exhaustion would make him limp more…

Now it’s a given

Struggling living,

Walking is a greater chore.

Discouragement isn’t cured

By increasing heartache endured…

Where can he find

Positive mind

Feeling he’s frequently skewered?

Walking with a cane hurts,

The pain’s unbearable spurts

Catch him off guard,

The productive bard

Feels like he’s getting worse.

–Jonathan Caswell

LIMERICK OF SOLACE

LIMERICK OF SOLACE

There was a man who’d call us,

Seeking some form of solace…

He put away

More than a quart a day,

And spent a lot on mollusks.

–Jonathan Caswell

(It’s late—I’m sorry!)

FEELING LONELY

FEELING LONELY

My wife is away

For a day or two…

Resting in a hospital bed

After an operation was through.

It’s just a minor thing.

Returning control

To a part of her life

That  had too big a hole.

But I am left alone..

Poetry my nightcap,

We haven’t done it for years

But I yearn someone’s lap.

Somewhere this man can lay his head

For some consolation…

But if the wife hears about it

There will be consternation!

The little boy or young man

Within me wants a hug…

Long and lingering, but

He will risk a verbal slug.

So he’ll say “good night my love,”

To his wife towns away…

Maybe tomorrow she’ll return,

Oh that will be a day!

–Jonathan Caswell

AN ENDED ADDICTION

AN ENDED ADDICTION

An addiction of mine ends here,

My E-bay account is cleared…

Another “RS-1”

Is the last one won,

Toward healthier finance I’ve steered.

Can’t give what funds bleed away,

The Lord competes with E-bay…

Wanting to tithe

Helps addictions die,

More for my Lord—oh happy day!

This addiction from its conception

Survived by spousal deception…

I did less lying

But less self-dying,

Not willing to stand close inspection.

–Jonathan Caswell

H.M.S.ULYSSES

H.M.S.  ULYSSES

H.M.S. ULYSSES,

A book by Allistair MacLean…

Made that fiction author’s

Subsequent writing fame.

He based it on experience

He had in World War Two…

In the Royal Navy

Upon the ocean blue.

After THE GUNS OF NAVARONE,

ICE STATION ZEBRA and the like…

I had to read his very first yarn

My interest had spiked.

Although the man is probably gone

His works remain…

So many characters he made up,

I’ll never be the same!

–Jonathan Caswell