Bend Your Knees!

Do you wonder how I feel?

I want to curl up in a ball.

Go to sleep and never wake up,

Except I don’t live in a vacuum.

There are family and friends,

My wife, of course,

At the top of the list.

If I left the state of things

Would be grim, full of sin,

And everything.

You look so thin!

You look so nothing,

So drab, so flat.

You look like you’re losing

All your fat!

You are mine and I am yours.

Made for each other

In heaven, by George.

We’ll go out together

Or maybe you first.

That’s the way you want it,

On earth.

I don’t know what I’d do

With myself.

Wrestle dust balls from the shelf.

There’s much to look forward to

In this life.

But I can’t remember

Any but strife.

There’s much to hope for,

Much to dream,

But all I want to do

Is scream.

We’ll make it.

Don’t you worry.

There’ll be lots of fun and flurry.

We will gather all around.

We won’t stop for any sound.

Come with me to the holy gate.

Promise I won’t be irate.

We’ll enjoy your company.

We’ll be sure to bend our knees,

Jumping off the side of the boat,

In the castle’s shallow moat.


Closing In

Crawling under, torn asunder.

Beloved stolen, booming thunder.

Please excuse the mighty cry.

Nothing proven, when you died.

Angels gliding through the air.

I won’t suffer. I don’t care.

Vivid memories closing in.

Wasting away, growing thin.

What’s the difference if I go?

What’s the point of to and fro?

I just want a soothing moment.

I just want a second chance.

Only we can see the answer.

Only you can keep the balance.

Trial Size

Sloping down and then back up, like a speeding truck, I am searching for your love. Transubstantiate, lift then push, then go all out, a mystery solved, doubts soothed, memories calmed, nightmares called what they are. Do you dream at night? I do. I fly through the sky on my back, steering with my feet. Trial size.


Sometimes I feel

Like I’m going to burst.

I think of the outcome

That is the worst.

I cry inside

Because it’s not safe

In my mind’s

Emotional landscape.

Tears well up

Upon my lids.

They overflow,

The reality is.

Sometimes I break down,

To nothing special.

A mood, a thought,

I always mess up.

In the end,

I know that I

Am not alone,

So, I just sigh.

Both Ways

Sharing smothered thoughts,

Restricted feelings abound.

Hesitation rules the imagination,

Hiding from the truth,

Although it tortures me.

Yearning for stability,

Some kind of consistency.

If only I could have it both ways!

Truth in Love

Heavy thoughts

And sinking feelings

Got me caught up

In a sea of sadness.

I wish she knew,

Only a good friend

Tells the truth,

Even when you

Don’t want to hear it,

Even when you

Don’t believe it.

Someone who cares

Doesn’t lie to your face

Just to make you feel good.

It’s hard to be that

Kind of friend,

Because you risk

The friendship.

But if you lie,

There’s no friendship

To lose.

So True

Moving towards you, in a roundabout

Sort of way. I feel the weight of my fear.

No, Mom and Dad didn’t tell me how to

Speak confidently, converse about things

Like interests and hobbies, to discuss the

Issues of the day. So, what is important

To you? I want to know, so true.


When I turn my eyes in your general

Direction, and rest my gaze on your face

Or body, just for a moment; and in that

Moment, you catch my eye with yours,

Do you wonder what’s going through my

Head, what I’m feeling, why I’m looking?

I wish I knew. But it just happens. Ouch.


Some people are pretty positive.

They look on the bright side.

It doesn’t matter how bad,

They will find something good.


This is, I think, a great way to be.

It is a straight way to happiness.

The only problem with it is

They are not prepared.


Sometimes life does not treat you well.

Sometimes things happen that are unexpected.

And sometimes life changes you.

Life can change you from a positive person


To someone who looks down every alley,

Wondering at every shadow.

And if you come to this crossroads,

Beware thoughts that come in the night.


If darkness finds you, it will hold on tight.

It will not be easy to shake it off.

For you have been through something

That has changed you forever.


You will doubt, and you will fear.

You will become something

That you may have run from

All of your life.



(Carry on Tuesday #108)

Sometimes I Freak, Part III

Sometimes I freak when I go to church. When you step into a church somehow you feel like you should be on your best behavior. That’s not really a Godly feeling or sentiment, since I believe that God accepts us exactly as we are, wherever we are, but that is how I was raised. In fact, growing up, my mother was ruthless in spurring me and my brother to get ready and stop goofing around on Sunday morning. What was important was looking good by being on time, behaving well, answering questions intelligently and in a spiritual way—basically, putting on a front. Lord knows my family was falling apart at the seams in every way, with my grandmother passing away, my parents’ separation and eventual divorce, and my mother’s undiagnosed mental illness. All was not well in the Bowman household. And those feelings come back to me today as I step through the doors of a church, any church, even one as positive, inclusive and accepting as mine. I wonder what deviant thoughts people suspect me of (well, actually, I am quite the skeptic), what deviant acts I am guilty of that separate me from other Christians and from God, what rebellion I am in that alienates me from the same. Going to church is something I want to do, but at the same time, I do struggle with these things every time, and it compromises my experience on the whole.

Sometimes I freak when I try to pray. Yes, God and I are not on the best of terms—haven’t been for a long time. In fact, except for when I pray with others—my wife at the dinner table and the occasional attempt at a weekly prayer partnership, my male prayer partner, something I initiated this year as an attempt to get closer to God because of my lack of an intimate relationship, and the occasional prayer with my Sunday School class and with the congregation in the sanctuary—I am not on speaking terms with God. I know after that enumeration of instances it doesn’t sound bad, but I guess I am a perfectionist, and I realize how far I am from any kind of daily routine which would bring me into any kind of genuine intimacy with God. Being alone with God is a frightening experience for me. Feelings of emotional and physical abuse from childhood along with visions of an angry Yahweh of the Old Testament conjure a being to be faced that is not the loving, caring Jesus that spoke to the disciples in the upper room that fateful night and told them that when we see him we have seen the Father, because he and the Father are one. When it’s just me and God (and I have to admit it is always the vengeful Father that I envision in my mind, not the gentle Jesus), I just freeze up. Gone are the soothing thoughts of “come to me ye who are weary, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light”. Instead it is a booming God that stares down at me and demands to know every sin I have committed and has come to punish me for them in some crazy sadistic way that makes me cringe and from which I yearn to escape. Not a great relationship, obviously.

Sometimes I freak when I open the Bible. I’ll admit, it’s intimidating. Yes, there is a lot of wisdom there. Yes, I believe it is divinely inspired. Yes, I believe there is potential for healing, instruction, direction, inspiration, grace, forgiveness—all that. But you know what else there is? God. He is there, waiting, behind those words. For what? I don’t know. But the potential scares me. I have read the entire Bible many times over, and if there is one thing I know for sure, there is power behind those words. And the thought of being overpowered, perhaps in a scary way, is what keeps me from those words. I have been overpowered, many times, in absolute terror, and I have run from figures of authority, figures who were supposed to be trustworthy caretakers, symbols of love and support, that have turned on me like a viper lunging for its prey. Is God like that? My intellect tells me no, but my heart, and my body, are not so sure. After all, if humans, blood, family, can be tyrannical, how much more can God? And there is something else—God is all powerful. Do I want to surrender myself to an all powerful tyrant? Do I want his thoughts to be my thoughts? No, not by a long shot.