Don’t You Dare!

  

 

Don’t you dare

Take me for a fool!

Treating me like I’m nobody

Is not cool.

 

I have value

And I am important

So, mistaking me for a fool,

I totally resent.

 

Don’t you dare

Tempt me young man!

Whenever you address me, boy,

You must say Mam.

 

We are no friends

Or even contemporaries,

Get it right from the beginning!

I am a lady.

 

 

 

Don’t you dare

Go out that door!

I have set you your boundaries

And I’ll say no more.

 

I brought you in

And would take you out!

Understand I am your mother;

Don’t you doubt.

 

Don’t you dare

Leave those shoes there!

The maid you are looking for,

You won’t find here.

 

Take them with you

And the filthy socks too

And try doing some of the chores

You expect me to do.

 

Like making your bed

And sweeping your room,

Your mother gets very tired too;

Here’s the broom.

 

 

 

Don’t you dare

Be talking back to me

Unless you want a mouth of teeth

To be suddenly empty.

 

I am your father

And don’t you forget it,

If you are too big for the belt,

I would use a stick.

 

Don’t you dare

Keep friends with them,

I can see they are up to no good

And will be a problem.

 

 

 

Don’t you dare

Not read this poem,

I have now dared you enough

And must be going.

 

Since you got this far

Just read on to the end

For all that’s left for me to say is,

Thanks, my friend.

 

Stewart Russell © February 14, 2026

 

What Proof Have You?

 

 

Are you sure I’m your friend?

What proof have you got?

What if you’ve been misled

And your friend I am not?

 

Don’t stick your neck out

If you are not sure

And then blame me if I fail you

For being a lure.

 

A trick used by the enemy

To lead you astray

From the one who has insisted

That he is the way.

What proof have you

That I am truly your friend?

There is only one I can assure you

Will be with you in the end.

 

And it is not me, I tell you,

For I am prone to fail,

The evidence is starkly obvious;

There’s a long trail.

 

I am thus clearing the air:

I am as weak as you,

And whatever opinion you have

May differ from my view.

 

So, what proof have you

That I am truly your friend?

How do you definitively know

I am not a fiend?

 

At verse number four

I pointed you to a friend

Of whom I said will be with you

Even in the end.

 

Well, let me identify him

As I come to an end,

I am sure you’ve heard of Jesus,

Oh, what a friend!

 

No comparisons, I say,

For there is none like him,

He is the hope that reassures

When earthly hope dims.

 

He’ll never mislead you

Like I have from time to time,

He is a friend for all eternity;

The proof you can find.

 

 

That proof is his Word;

Every promise he has kept

And, unlike your friends like me,

He has never failed yet.

 

Earthly friends will fail;

Of this there’s much proof

But you can trust this friend always

For his Word is the truth.

 

 

Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!

What a friend to cherish!

And all of whom he is a friend

Will never ever perish.

 

Stewart Russell © January 6, 2025

 

Church Mafia

 

What have we come to?

I have to ask myself,

This Church Mafia business

Is not good for one’s health.

 

It has come out of Africa,

Nigeria to be exact,

Bigger than “fake it till you make it”

And this is a fact.

 

If you are a pastor

And are seeking to be established,

Just connect with a big one

Whose lifestyle you relish.

 

Abandon the Bible’s way

Or your church will not grow

And consult with the big boys

That already know.

 

They will give you tips

On how to grow your church,

You don’t need the Holy Spirit,

Just these successful experts.

 

I listened to this pastor

That was giving his testimony,

He was sharing some stuff he did

And it wasn’t funny.

 

To begin his church-growth

He invited some big guns

And his church was packed out

Every time they would come.

 

 

They were full of the Holy Spirit

Or so it would seem,

People just swooned and fell;

It was an action-packed scene.

 

He was given mixed portions

He was supposed shower with

And when he operated,

It was as though he had the gift.

 

A part of his ritual

Was to make a grand entrance

And this came after worshippers

Had everyone in a trance.

 

He would stride down the aisle

As in a triumphal entry

And the congregants would fall;

There was such ecstasy.

 

But he found out some things

As he got closer to the big guns,

Regarding Christian principles

They had little or none.

 

Though in conjugal relationships,

They still played the field

And invited him to join them

As part of the deal.

 

They were wheeling and dealing

All in the name of Christ

And the materialism they gleaned

Did more than suffice.

 

It was the good life they lived

Just like the mighty Mafia experience

And any who dare not pay up

Suffered their grievance.

 

 

These are apostles and prophets

Of the extraordinaire type

And many believe in their offerings

And love the emotional hype.

 

Church Mafia is well organized

Like the Lodge and the occult

And the power they exert

Is like that of the Mighty Hulk.

 

They know more about you

Than you know about yourself

And they know how to use such

To generate their wealth.

  

They utilize their informants

To obtain critical information

Which is relayed via WhatsApp

About those in the congregation.

 

They are great at pretending

That they knew nothing about you

Until informed by the Holy Spirit

And it therefore must be true.

 

Call to come out by name

From among thousands of folks

Must be nerve wracking and chilling

And certainly no joke.

 

Then to hear your life history

Recounted in accurate detail

Can only generate the kind of reverence

Reserved for the holy grail.

 

 

Do not be fooled, my friend,

These so-called prophets are not God

And their well-engineered programmes

Are deceptions of King Fraud.

 

They utilize the fear factor

To get you to buy in

And to assure you that outside of them

Your hopes are simply dim.

 

They promise you a breakthrough

But you must sow a huge seed

Which goes into their pockets

To support their greed.

 

We live in a global village

And nothing is now far away,

Something could start in Africa now

And reach here by today.

 

“It can’t happen ‘bout here!”

Could be the colossal blunder

That opens the proverbial doorway

For the Church Mafia to plunder.

  

And that is the wolf’s objective,

To ravish the sheep:

Especially those frisky little lambs

Or the sheep falling asleep.

 

Be on your guard, I caution,

There may be a case near you,

So, open your eyes of discernment

And if needed, change that view.

 

Stewart Russell © October 20, 2022

 

In Memoriam

 

 

I once had a friend

That was seldom on time

Such that when she died

We were in a bind.

 

Somebody commented

She was early to heaven

Not late as usual

Having been forgiven.

 

I won’t call her name

But I know some will guess

Especially older Carrington folk

That are still left.

 

She sang in the chorale

And was part of a duet,

I am sorry if up to this point

You haven’t guessed yet.

 

Like one of her friends

She is often on my mind,

Like her, that friend is deceased

Having completed her time.

 

 

 

They both sang in the chorale

Back in those great days

But they left us in their thirties

No longer delayed.

 

They were both thirty-seven

When they transitioned

And having been born again

Assuredly set for heaven.

 

Why they died so young

Remains a mystery to me

Other than to say their time was up

Thus, their death had to be.

 

Though they remain nameless

To them is this tribute,

They were two beautiful people

And this none can dispute.

 

I think almost every day

About saints that have passed

And of my own demise

When I’ll be in that class.

 

Stewart Russell © May 23, 2022

 

Will I?

 

 

Am I going to make it?

Sometimes I doubt,

There are those who make me feel

I could be left out.

 

They point me to scriptures

That appear to point this out

And I must confess after I read

I still sometimes doubt.

 

God is able, they tell me

And plus, we do have a choice,

We could be obedient to Him

Or ignore His voice.

 

The moment we don’t listen

Could spell disaster for us

And the ravenous wolf

Could snatch us from Jesus.

 

Or, maybe I myself

Could take me out of God’s hand,

At any point I could decide

I am finished with His plan.

 

 

Am I going to make it?

Sometimes I doubt,

There are those who make me feel

I could be left out.

 

But it seems strange to me

That after being rescued

One would abandon his rescuer

To go back to that stew.

 

Picture a drowning person

That is pulled to safety

And dives back into the deluge:

That is insanity.

 

From what are we rescued?

That is the question,

And until we can truly answer it

We will have this problem.

 

Sin is the spiritual terror

From which we are saved

And the transformation that occurs

Dictates how we behave.

 

It is the initial choice we make

When we say yes to Christ

And by faith our born-again miracle

Results from his sacrifice.

 

It can happen only once

Just like in our natural birth,

The second birth is from heaven

The first is of the earth.

 

 

Am I going to make it?

Sometimes I doubt,

There are those who make me feel

I could be left out.

 

But having been born,

That is, having been born of the flesh

I am in this world until I die-

That is, when I am laid to rest.

 

Similarly, having been born again

That is, born of the Spirit,

I am a child of God forever

And in heavenly places I sit.

 

Whenever I am in doubt

I remember who my Father is

And since none can snatch me away

I will always be His.

 

It is very hard to be lost

A very good friend once said

And the friend was referring to someone

That was spiritually dead.

 

The Bible shows it is impossible

To foil God’s redemptive plan

And I know most definitively

None can pluck me from His hand.

 

Stewart Russell © October 9, 2020

Can You Believe It?

I was knocked for six

When I heard the news,

This was particularly so

Considering the recent reviews.

Enquiring how he was

“Great improvement” was the word

So that when I learnt of his passing

To me this was absurd.

Just over twenty four hours

“Great Improvement” was the word

Now I just could not understand

What I had just heard.

Just one year before

We suffered the passing of his wife,

Now one year later

He is void of all life.

How can this be?

I ask myself again and again

I am tempted to question God

But from that I shall refrain.

All things work together

For every born again believer

And the moment we forget this

We’ve been tricked by the Deceiver.

But it does toy with the mind

I can tell you that

And all who have lost a loved one

Will tell you, that’s a fact.

I am trying desperately

To switch to “consolatory” mood

But I just can’t seem to make it

Out of the “denial” groove

My god-brother and friend

One of the best I have ever had,

He is no longer with us

And that makes us quite sad.

  

We still try to come to grips

With the passing of Pearline,

Now Michael has also departed

It’s a “double whammy” scene.

Lord, help us at this time

As we try to process this event,

We are often baffled by life

But our good is your intent.

Comfort us with your peace

And strengthen by your grace

And remind us of your faithfulness

Through all that we must face.

Stewart Russell © December 18, 2018

At: 3:58 a.m.