Monday, March 28, 2016

Broken People

               Broken People

Broken people everywhere,
Burdens heavy full of care.
Redemption comes into this space,
Light in darkness fear's displaced.
When hope wavers,
Remember your Savior.
Three days in,
New life begins.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Make Room

                                  Make Room

Empty tomb,
Make Him room.
Burden carried in between,
Lay it at His feet and come clean.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image is of early Spring daffodils at the ranch today.

Saturday, March 26, 2016

Early Spring

                       Early Spring

Easter comes early this year,
Tomorrow celebrate resurrection, the cost so dear.
Snow covers the ground today,
Between crucifixion and resurrection place of gray.
Moment when all seems lost,
Lay burdens at foot of cross.
Tomorrow the tombstone is rolled away,
Bringing hope to all gone astray.
Whiteness of snow,
A cleansing we can know.
Beauty exchanged for our sorrow,
Joy in living today and tomorrow.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image is of round bale dusted with fresh snow this morning.

Friday, March 25, 2016

Power of Voice

          Power of Voice

Power of voice.
Reveal story, no other choice.
Deny story, fragment apart.
Own story, healing starts.
Ugliness of own history.
Give it your voice.
Get lost in places hid.
Tell the whole, not just some.
Rest in TRUTH, feel breath and sigh.
Voice out of mercy and love.
No longer carry burden of story.
Congruent integration unfolds from story told.
Comes from authentic inner place.
Silence broken, words honor with grace.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Present

                 Present

Storm of emotion and rage,
Passes quickly, difficult to gauge.
Where did that come from trapped within?
Let it pass, pain released no longer singe.
Stay present, rage is from past.
Can hold it, explore it as if three dimensional construct.
Wow look at that place, how odd.
Surreal to detach and not be swept away with it.
No longer mine to carry, burden free of.
Live in a place of surrender, touch the pain trapped in present.
Yet don't have to live in the past.
No more catatonic state dwelling in past.
Been rescued and redeemed from that place.
Live in present grace and mercy.
Do what it takes to stay present.
Release ambivalence, no longer scapegoat.
No longer keeper of family secrets.
No longer held in catatonic place.
Present, alive, survived.
Story redeemed, set free.
In the present there is joy.
In the present there is hope.
In the present there is love.
Safe to be in the present.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Blame and Suffering

A twisting of blame hamstrings being able to live, to be alive.  A weight and burden that no longer need to carry. It is Good Friday, the day we celebrate Jesus bearing the weight of our suffering, pain, sin, being scapegoated, being victimized.  Isaiah 53:3 (KJV) -- "He is despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrow, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised and we esteemed him not." 

Jesus is familiar with our suffering, he experienced it all on our behalf so we would never be alone or forsaken.  Bring your burdens to the foot of the cross today and place it at his feet, for him to judge and interpret; no longer needing to pick it up and carry it anymore.  BE FREE from it TODAY.

Blame

When attribute someone's over reaction or lack of control,
To who I am or what I've done -- BLAME -- reality stole.
A black eye of blame,
In enters shame.
Carry a burden not mine,
Blind to hook, wallow as swine.
Pulled back to the past,
Happens so incredibly fast.
Hook so deep and pain is numb,
Such an internal scrum.
Freeing the barb,
Excruciatingly hard.
Set will to be free finally start,
Awakening, pain of frostbite in heart.
Intentional and resolute,
Courage and voice no longer mute.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Monday, March 21, 2016

Voice

                 Voice

Voice goes off line,
Instantly before logic can say it's fine.
Triggered a memory trapped in soul,
Feel it in body still living unwhole.
Can't express what is happening,
Held hostage to brain and body reacting.
Exhaustion and stress carried in core,
No longer needed yet can't just ignore.
Haunts and hounds at "random" spark,
Pent up energy leaving its mark.
Realizing it isn't anxiety feel,
Bound up pain that needs healed.
Pay attention to body it speaks,
Where memory fails pain peaks.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Friday, March 18, 2016

Bonds

              Bonds

Broken bonds of life,
Twisted and contorted strife.
Truth of story lost,
Pay a personal cost.
Tell the story,
Even the gory.
False interpretations exposed,
True story composed.
Reality has a way of breaking lies,
Freedom's shout and cry.
Silenced voice no more,
Loosed in internal core.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Thursday, March 17, 2016

Light Absorbed

          Light Absorbed

Softness of morning air,
Gentle light absorbed.
Walking gingerly with no cares,
Creation meant to be adored.
Centered in calm,
Often find peace in storm.
Surrender and give alms,
In my daybreak norm.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Simple and Complex

                Simple and Complex

Beauty of the simple.
Elegance of complex.
Beauty and elegance woven together.
Complements and strengthen what could stand alone.
Stronger together.
Congruent and integrated.
Powerful integrity without words.
Draws others, an open invitation.
Sweetness of safe community.
Fortitude to risk vulnerability, being known.
Smoothing roughness of character.
Soothing to soul, redemption.
Sought after and invited.
Peace settles from inside out.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image is of our herd of horses.

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

English Lit

                               English Lit

Ides of March draws me back to high school,
Where our teacher drew us into the world of Shakespeare.
Decades later still have fond memories,
A love for different types of literature discovered.

Our high school lit class just as difficult as college class,
Teacher's love of literature wouldn't allow less.
Discussions and discovery as new worlds opened,
Exploration of Human nature and motive awakened.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Sunday, March 13, 2016

Within the Walls

            Within the Walls

Why does "it" stay within the walls,
If it's legit then take it out in halls.
In the highways and byways,
Thirsty and hungry to humanities strays.

All the gifts feeding the full,
Become so numb and dull.
Doesn't appeal anymore,
Narcissistic and empty needs restored.

Lost in all the good gifts,
Focus to sift and re-shift.
Loss of first love,
Need renewed from above.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Saturday, March 12, 2016

The Place That Roars

                The Place That Roars

How pull back in moment where roar,
Back down and hesitate return to safe shores.
Interpret roar as not enough and blame,
When truth is another person's younger self emoting pain.

What if roar isn't about me?
What if roar is about getting free?
Defiance expressed is about places trapped,
All the baggage needs unpacked.

I am safe no matter the roar,
In the moment we both are restored.
Reactions change as mature,
Both are grounded and secure.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Friday, March 11, 2016

The Grass Weeps

                             The Grass Weeps

Grass on ditch bank kneeling prayerfully.
Rain and snow forced it down.
Weary and weeping, bowed at the edge.
Damp, recent heaviness.

Sun is out and the tall tufts over a foot long glisten.
Moistness of contrasting dirt with brown blades.
Accentuated in the softness of morning breaking dawn.
Spring soon will come and burden just a memory.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Frost on the Car

               Frost on the Car

Frost on the car, unique scar.
Finger of divine etched the design.
Feathery fern impressed by the unknown.
Few more moments and would be puddles.

Erased clean as if never seen.
A gift of beauty to refocus the day.
Always something to recenter, challenge the heart.
Show up in the moment prepare for the day.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image is of frost on the car this morning.

Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Sick

                   Sick

Tired of being sick, looking out window.
Only so much introspection into portal of soul.
Mental rest, physical rest, emotional rest, spiritual rest.
Caring for the soul, entire being.

Confronted with all ways comfort when sick.
Yet not all ways of comfort are restoring for soul.
Looking outside and wishing could be there.
Wide open space soul can explore.

Places of beauty and joy resuscitates spirit.
Warmth of sun nurturing all that lives.
Feeling its hot rays cultivates gratitude.
A soft, warm breath soaks into the depths of soul.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

March Snow

                           March Snow

Familiar sense when walk out doors to a March snow,
Drawn back in time to teenager.
Something about the look, smell, and beauty of youth,
Pulls a youngness to the surface.

Contrasts all around,
Green of grass pierces snow.
Disked fields, chocolate cake with thin vanilla frosting,
Snow melts rapidly.

Gray sky soon to give way,
Anticipation of sun bursting through.
Doves perched together cooing,
Horses neighing, acknowledging me.

Quietness of non-mechanical,
Only sounds are of living things.
Trees resisting the wind,
Footsteps on gravel.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image from this morning in Western Nebraska.

Bubbles

             Bubbles

Memories bubble to surface,
Life giving springs rising.
Invitation to draw a drink,
Revisit the past and integrate.

Stepping into the memory,
New perspectives to explore.
Investigate old surroundings,
Surreal instant in time no more.

Harm held in memory,
Released in the Truth.
Trauma loses power,
Soul more whole.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Oatmeal Raisen Cookies

        Oatmeal Raisen Cookies

Simpler times recall,
Grandma making cookies.
Our hands helping put dough on cookie sheets,
Oatmeal rasien and peanut butter cookies.
Ruined for any other cookies, they just aren't grandma's.
Memories fade with time, yet some are triggered,
With the smell of cookies baking, or others close to their texture.
A smile to the face, something that time can never take.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Monday, March 7, 2016

Gray

                   Gray

Warmth of late morning gives way,
Distant horizon fades to gray.
Season confused if Winter or Spring,
Ambivalence that nature brings.

Can see the approaching transition,
Animals sense they feed before reposition.
Wind driven rain pelts windows,
Temperature drops begging snow.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image of horizon this morning.

Thursday, March 3, 2016

Reckoning

                    Reckoning

When the past comes knocking,
When past and present collide.
Confronted with who once was,
Reckon with who now am.

Reckoning determines future journey,
If resist and deny what's been and what is -- worlds collide.
Incongruence and stress work damage on soul,
Turmoil until release and let go.

Peace comes in the place that past is the past,
Today let it go, no longer defines.
Yes it was, but no longer has power,
Truthful and honest past lost its control.

Untwisted and unraveled to be who I am,
No longer in bondage to all that has been.
Free to explore and go to new places,
Internally light after such a long night.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image of sunrise this week, dawn breaks just as in dark places of soul.

Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Betrothed

                     Betrothed

To believe worth committing to,
A crucible of two.
Space created of fiery love,
Mingle and mix with heaven above.

Valued and pursued,
Free to be, no longer used.
Honored and validated,
Union together celebrated.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.


Image is chalk art by Colleen Bucks inspired during worship.

Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Wrestling

                       Wrestling

Wrestle in that place of incongruence,
Between good and evil and what "it" means.
My heart is good,
Yet action don't always match.

The warring of what that "means,"
About who I am.
Black and white thinking,
All good or all bad.

Interpretations and where I take them,
Choices about cycles that find self in.
Not about stopping or controlling cycles,
It's about which cycle.

Moment where choose healthy,
Moment where choose unhealthy.
Neither defines who I am or my heart,
Just expression of inner struggle

How did it get so convoluted?
Attaching value and worth to actions and performance.
Instead of attaching value and worth of who I am with self, God, and others.
That inner place where get stuck playing the event over and over.

The Ground Hog Day moments relived over and over.
Replay it until reconciled in being that just because action doesn't define me.
It doesn't define my heart.

I am more than a performance or action.
I am human, a person, a man.
I sin, fail, make wrong choices.
I am good, do right, succeed and make right choices.

I am not defined by either sin or good.
My heart is good and right with God.
I am an expression of who I Am created me to be.
Loving, caring, passionate, strong, weak, dependent, independent, attached, and connected.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.