Oh God! (Psalms 61& 13)

from by David Bowden Poetry

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61 & 13:
Oh God!
My body crumbles before you
My crying and bumbling pours out like waves bowing as shores do.
I lap up oceans of gasoline
seas of kerosene
Transforming words into sparks
thus igniting a beacon of faith in the dark
May I be aromatic as you listen
to my enigmatic transmission
my tongue burns as incense, rolling in
my mouth’s insisting wet blanket
making unmentionable motions
I’m blowing smoke.
You hold me like water in open hands rushing
endlessly down the channeled beds in
your palms, watering the garden of your amnesia.
Your hand has undergone anesthesia.
You prolong the pain, refusing to seize me as a skeptic
Refusing to provide antiseptic
to my wounds
I sing the right tunes
Countless sins I refuse
Abstaining from boos, drugs, and tattoos
Yet you leave no clues
of your existence
This is my last prayer of insistence
that you break through the mystics
or my persistent prayers
and distant stares
will no longer employ this body’s assistance
Sometimes I forget that
I’m just blowing.
13 & 61:
out the chimney in the house of your trinket
may my exhalations be fragrant
Naked you see me
no amount of promising
could instill in you a favoring
Instead you need
only my vow to be
betrothed to you now
bowing in my infancy
cowering at your infinite affinity for a recanting truth
for I can’t see where lying while lying at your feet gotten me to
Flagrant oaths be forgotten
a Vagrant’s home like a promise
It won’t keep
61 & 13:
enough I’ve waited
craning my neck
crinkling my eyes
But your disguise of darkness
the 4-wall lies of your existence
the fiction religion of your insistence
this long distance adoption from an unseen father
this emptiness I auction off to the highest bidding caller
no longer will I bear the weight of your silence
I can’t stand to wait for you to revel yourself to retracted eyelids
I can’t keep on chanting a song about a God to whom I belong
If you can’t give up a breath, sigh, or yawn
for me to hold on to
Much like a life that has done no wrong
such innocence
won’t keep
13 &61:
is the empty wall between your lips and earth’s puckered kiss
but no distance will provide sufficient resistance
to the ballistic sound of my crying enlistment
into the ranks of your ears
Years may pass without one hint of your existence
but relentless to adore you, relentlessly I’ll endure your silence
twilight messages I’ll massage out of the passages of my mouth
spouted out incantations, blessed by my tongue’s demands
pressed into hands, whispered into breaths and
blown to the wind
When will my head and heart
brain and bowels
intelligence and emotion
stop wresting with the fact that the words
whispered within the rounds of hopeful prayers
and disappointed stares at an invisible in-visitable friend
are simply
blown to the wind

13 & 61:
Day after day sorrow borrows hope from tomorrow
and the rays of today’s interest swelter the shade
and I have no shelter
61 (at the same time):
but you are my shelter

For your sake I forsake all foreign foretastes of dangers forebaders
For in you and your name lies a fortune of fortitude
I’m fortified in forgiveness
Forged in your form
The foreman of forever
61 & 13:
I’m burning
my eyes at the wick
last ditch seers
wax tipped tears melting
cylinders of hope: self-devouring
betrothed to the smoke of my incinerated dowry
Hourly I crawl to you
I weep on our bed of vows
wetting the feathered pillows of your wings
covered by steel sheets on a metal mattress
My master, mistress, and fortress
I rest on
61 &13:
hide in darkness.
Enlighten my eyes
Give light to disguise
Make light of the lies of your silence
Look on me!
13 &61:
my one request
arrest my life in your love
resist the death in me today to live another one
that for the rest of my days I may quest to sing
the praise of

61 & 13:
your name.
is poison on my lips
though it slays me I will continue to sip
the farther you hide the deeper I drink
the darker my eyes the longer I sink
into the death of our life together
13 & 61:
For your love is never failing
and this affair keeps me
ever wailing.
13 & 61:


from Return Return, released April 11, 2011



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David Bowden Poetry Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

David Bowden started writing his first poems at 19 after an encounter with God on a road trip to Chicago. Since then he has been using spoken word poetry to exalt the Bridegroom and beautify the bride. David currently pastors a house church under and within Bridgeway Church in Oklahoma City, where he lives with his beautiful wife Meagan and cat Dexter. ... more

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