Sunday, July 31, 2016

There Is A Day

There Is A Day

When I fall apart,
He is there.
When damage of sin
      breaks and separates,
He is there.

In the panic and fear,
God is near.
In the pain and hurt,
God is near.

In deafening silence,
God hears.
In the mind numbing roar,
God hears.

When confusion spills from eyes,
He gathers the tears.
Guilt and sorrow seep out of eyes,
He gathers the tears.

In the midst of unmet longings,
He makes it right.
There is a day,
When He makes all things right.

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

Hunting

           Hunting

Over the raked hay I fly,
Waiting for movement to catch my eye,
Mouse runs for cover,
Too late dinner's discovered.

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

Saturday, July 30, 2016

Wrestle of Claimed

         Wrestle of Claimed

Broken places take up space,
Can I trust you face to face?
Why the question in the moment?
Fleeting connection then it's gone.
Pulled apart in an instant.

All the past dead weight to haul,
Under it stumble and fall.
How does the past lose it's power?
Schemes, patterns, and cycles exchanged.

So enter into that space,
Share the power in the us,
Free to drift in peace,
Surrendered and vulnerable,
Claiming her, claiming us.

Need an imprint of that place.
New reality to embrace.
Uncreate and detach with the old.
New place to hug and hold.
Going further in the us "zone."
Two of us fully known.

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

Thursday, July 28, 2016

Technological Ponderings

Technological Ponderings

Smart phone spends the night with me,
Plays music as I go to sleep,
Wakes me in the morn,
Knows my routines better than my lover.

Google knows my likes and tastes,
She keeps track of all my important dates,
Intimacy as lays upon my chest,
Reach for her to check the time in the night.

Sorrow in the coldness,
Void made for connection,
Instead minds reflection,
In light of best friends glow, my cell phone.

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

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Backside Of Beauty

View from the Ranch Tonight










         Backside of Beauty
On the backside,
Of a tornado,
Beauty can reside,
Rainbow bright and brilliant,
Consumes the evening sky.

Prevailing winds drunkenly shift,
Howling stiffly in the trees,
Dust puff low against horizon,
Loose hay floating about with ease,
On the other side of beauty,
Tremendous energy,
Spinning round about.

Spitting icy balls,
Violent anger expressed,
Wreaking destruction in erratic path,
Sirens blare alert the air,
As trauma does unfold,
Leaving wake of pain untold.

Nebraska's violent weather unleashed,
Upon the prairie and the hills,
Causing awe and wonder at the power,
Reminding humans that we're weak,
Can stand amazed at the extremes held in tension,
Seductive beauty on the backside of tornadic power.

Written about a tornado tonight south of Mitchell, NE.

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

Another Day

         Another Day

Circular systems,
Returns to sender,
Information provided,
To do the work.

Instead of work completed,
By group requesting the information,
Flies around the atmosphere,
With this is too difficult can you do it for us.

What they don't realize is,
I don't care,
It's been 40 years since anyone asked,
It will be another 40 before anyone cares.

System corrupts and distorts,
All that is good in a person,
Goal appears to be keep the churn,
While nothing ever gets completed.

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

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Flywheel

          Flywheel

Flywheel spins,
Baler greedily devours,
Windrow of hay in throat,
Bulimicly regurgitates squares.

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

Monday, July 25, 2016

Love's Sweet Sorrow

Love's Sweet Sorrow

Golden tear drop falls,

Tender love caresses lip.
Nectar of full blossom,
Bitter taste upon the tongue.

Goodbyes and regrets,
No more.
Sorrow mixed memory,
Until we meet again.

Written for an online poetry contest. 


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

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Weight of Glory

Image from Worship this Morning


Weight of Glory

Weight of His glory,
Pours down,
Into our souls,
Containers of flesh and blood.

Invitation to partake,
Allow Spirit to flow,
Stretch and expand,
In trials and tests.

Choices to make,
Allow weight to expand,
Press and contort,
Pushing the sides.

Supple and soft,
Room made to contain.
Deeper in intimacy,
One with Creator.

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


Saturday, July 23, 2016

Swept Away

Swept Away

Swept away,
Inundated by the eyes,
Known before words spoken,
Connection electrified.

If pause for an instant,
Read the eyes,
See the person,
Might become more civilized.

How romance happens,
How friendships form,
A vulnerable look in the eyes,
Swept away.

A poem for an online poetry contest. About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Friday, July 22, 2016

Ode to the Rancher

      Ode to the Rancher

Summer sun beats,
Baking skin in heat,
Whisking moisture away,
Rough and calloused,
Cracked curious patterns,
In the ground and on the skin,
Darkened pigments,
Weathered and dry,
Coated in dirt and dust,
Grease and grime stain,
Not cubicle contained,
Free to roam,
Chores to do,
Equipment to maintain,
Irrigation to set,
Fence to mend,
Animals to tend.

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

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Nebraskan Buck Moon

The full moon in July is known as a buck moon.

    Nebraskan Buck Moon

Wind caresses prairie grass,
Waving in symbiotic dance,
Hues of days long past,
In the glow of buck moon.

Buck moon's pale light,
Awakens Nebraska's virgin prairie,
Shadows play upon earth's skin,
Lover's dance as one.

Whispers in velvet voice,
Beckon attuned ear,
Invitation to partake,
In love's mature song.

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

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Due to Myself

        Due to Myself

Mind on the edge,
Thoughts toss and abuse,
Chum in the water,
All this bait set the trap.

Familiar patterns and ruts,
Imbedded interpretations and lies,
Do to myself,
Due to myself.

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

Monday, July 18, 2016

Bounding

A Buck in Velvet on Drive to Work This Morning

             Bounding
Buck bounds into field,
Bouncing to see above the corn,
Doe hops out of sight,
He stops, I stop.
Softness in day break,
Window rolled down,
Looking at each other,
Velvet on rack.
Thoughts on internal struggle,
Moment to refocus mind,
Pulls out of self-absorbed place,
Engage in beauty of morning.
Gift of morning,
Presents itself,
Enjoyed and seen,
Hope bounds at break of day.
About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Saturday, July 16, 2016

Mirt



              Mirt

Water washes over,
Field's unquenchable thirst,
Liquid mirt - dirt and mud,
Drunk on water.

Mud squishes,
Under weight,
Of each step placed,
Hard soil softens quickly.

Internal soil,
Wilting of thirst,
Rain from heaven,
Each drop stings.

Until holding slurry,
Of mirt,
Simple, silky flow,
Fertile, open, curious.

Out of mirt,
Life grows.

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

Friday, July 15, 2016

Strawberry Moon 2016

Strawberry Moon 2016

Summer solstice,
Strawberry moon,
Rises over crest,
Brilliant reflection.

A night could bale by,
Embrace lover,
Walk in solitude,
Or sit at dusk.

Beauty paints,
Other worldly soft,
Inviting participation,
As coolness rests upon land.

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

The Beginning

     The Beginning

Her body language ambiguous,
How would he know,
Requires a risk,
His heart had to grow.

She was so funny,
Easy on eyes,
Found themselves together,
Ambiguity clarified.


Poem for online contest using ambiguous, remembering meeting my wife.
About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Lethal Obesity of Soul

Lethal Obesity of Soul 

Obese with judgments,
Heavy gavel to drop,
Always looking outward,
Missing internal seed,
That grows each day,
Pregnant yet can't see,
Belly bump of resentment,
Fertilized with each bitter thought,
Conceived in inner darkness,
Spewing out on others,
Volcanic release of fatness,
Next time pressure builds a little faster,
'Til consumed in cycle of projection, victim, narcissistic addiction,
Heart attack,
Physical symptom of inner death,
Long dead before hit the floor,
Lethal obesity 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.

A poem written for an online poetry contest.

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Claimed

This was a post today on Allpoetry's website for a contest.

      Claimed

Part that won't be tamed,
Forcefully and fully claimed,
Being without shame,
Intentionally reframed.
No longer contained.

Surrender the mild,
Love lavish and wild.

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

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Work of Love

       Work of Love

Movement and motion,
Not some magic love potion,
Love works from the inside,
Creates action on the outside.

Mind races,
Body freezes,
Stop thinking,
Allow heart to lead.

Different than wild initial love,
All relationships tested,
Must move to new depths of intimacy,
Beyond just the physical.

Energy placed in motion,
Not internally devoured,
At core melt down love is proved,
Stay shallow and narrow,
Or go deep and wide.

Harness the energy,
Use energy to apply force over distance,
Work of love,
Commitment over time.
Humble and open,
Lead from love and not fear.

Systems of fear work death,
Systems of love work life.
Exchange systems that have failed and worked death,
For systems that brings life.
Hope requires movement today.

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

Monday, July 11, 2016

Systems II

More from journaling on systems last week.

Systems II

Inevitable we are part of systems,
Can rail against,
Be a victim.

Can examine system and structures,
Allow lenses of truth to expose,
Change the system intentionally.

Allow suffering,
To expose dysfunctional systems,
Explore the truth of participation.

On internal seas,
Rock the boat,
Truth perceive.

Will challenge depths of soul,
May lose family and friends,
Honesty REQUIRES change.

Life rearranged,
Begins inside,
New seas to ply.

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

Systems Again

More on systems. From earlier in the week journaling, I can't get away from systems and the implication of them.

Systems Again

Systems in life,
Accelerate or hinder,
Healthy or destructive,
Powerful principle.

Lack of intentionality,
Enables current systems,
Intentional living,
Disrupts dysfunctional systems.

Systems of relationships,
Systems of numbing,
Systems of addiction,
Systems of love,
Systems of worthiness,
Systems of wholeness,
Systems of intimacy.

Compounding of sowing and reaping,
Truth of how live,
Choices made daily,
Just going through motions,
A life unlived.

Courage to face truth,
And act upon it intentionally,
Something awakens on the inside.

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




Sunday, July 10, 2016

Forked Tongue

    Forked Tongue

Seduction of words.
Entraps the simple.
Hidden in pleasure.
Steals life's treasure.

Seduction of words.
Begins with a thought.
Ruminate on desire.
Lust catches fire.

Cost you your soul.
Not worth the toll.
Impostor of truth.
Deceptions not love.

Test what is seen.
Not everything's pure.
Love's worth the wait.
Don't waste your life.

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

Saturday, July 9, 2016

Systems I

Lately I have been pondering systems. Internal operating systems, just like Microsoft or MAC operating systems - scripts running together creating an operating system. What are the internal scripts running that are giving me the results - either I like or don't like? Modify and upgrade the internal operating system and effect will ripple through the entire system. Truth has a way of crashing dysfunctional operating systems.

Systems I

Systems in place,
Each must face.
Set into motion,
Full speed locomotion.

Locomotion for good or evil,
Process created,
Blindness to effect,
Doesn't prevent system working me over.

Perhaps personal systems,
Yield the most tonnage,
Magnitude of blindness,
Self I don't see and system effect.

Cycles repeated from generation to generation,
For life or death - goodness or wickedness.
Explore the systems participating in,
Not liking the results, perhaps change internal system.

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





Friday, July 8, 2016

Roots Long Dead

Roots Long Dead

Barren trees,
Straggly limbs,
Dead fingers,
Reaching skyward.

Roots long dead,
Stand as eulogy,
Memory of dreams long past,
Cycle of life complete.

Plant anew today,
Dream again,
Nurture roots deep,
Verdant and green.

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


Thursday, July 7, 2016

Words Seep

     Words Seep

As rain drops,
Seep into cracks,
Soft words,
Smoothly seep into soul.

No longer harsh,
Abrasive polished,
Long dormant
Seeds within refreshed.

A little nurture,
New life sprouts,
Once surrendered,
Possibilities awaken.

Each thought precious,
Guard and steward,
Soaked with softness,
Once dead grows.

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

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

A Matter of Faith

          A Matter of Faith

Where mind goes and ruminate on,
can transformer your life.
Out of core words speak,
faith whether believed or not.

A matter of faith,
choice what I believe.

Lens of interpretation,
creates a world.
As a man thinks,
so shall he be.

A matter of faith,
choice what I believe.

Risk and change,
or regrets to stay the same.
Courage to transform,
new paradigm welcome.

A matter of faith,
choice what I believe.

Create with words,
from truth or lies.
From inner world form,
manifests in physical.

A matter of faith,
choice what I believe.

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

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Hard Hat



                  Hard Hat

Hard hat sits on my desk,
  Paper work gets worse,
  Paranoia of security,
  Approvals required to do anything,
  By people who don't know what I do or have a clue,
  They don't know the industry,
  Just check this box that doesn't apply,
  Do you know how inept you sound,
  Compliance this and compliance that,
  Trying to have a conversation with words you jumble,
  Tying words together that huff, puff, and bluff nonsensical drivel,
    Perhaps I need to wear my hardhat,
      While at my desk to protect me from the piles of paper,
      That provides job security.

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

Monday, July 4, 2016

Dancing Duster

Crop Duster this Morning Spraying Fields
Dancing Duster

Yellow biplane,
Engine full throttle,
Banks and turns,
Sharp and tight.

Dancing and dipping,
Below the trees,
Caressing the terrain,
In unforgiving dance.

Dives and weaves,
Avoiding ground clutter,
Away he flies,
Low in the sky.

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


Sunday, July 3, 2016

Burn It Down

      Burn It Down

That damned barrier,
Built to keep me safe,
Now all alone.

I lit that torch,
Burned that fence down,
Not trapped anymore.

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

Saturday, July 2, 2016

For Love and Horses

Soft Light at Sunset

     For Love and Horses

Mud and grit paint hand,
Feel burs and goat heads,
Stab into hands as mend plastic ditch.

Instead of ocean view,
Surf and sand between toes,
Walking with lover and best friend.

I'm wrestling,
With life giving water,
On to field of alfalfa.

I love her,
She loves horses,
We love horses.

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

Friday, July 1, 2016

Business of Death

         Business of Death

Family dressed in black,
Soul racked.
Going through the motions,
Can't let emotions create commotion.

Family not addressed and we don't validate,
Life reduced to five minute power point slide show.
Slide show just way to stay numb,
Ignoring the loss before them.

Somehow a few passages of scripture fills that space,
When we weep not with those who weep?
Words are hollow and lack the depth,
Death of loved one goes deep.

Words from podium fall as lead,
Just as lifeless and dead.
Grief seeps from below where fear to tread.
Those left behind are the living dead.

Hope rises as a phoenix,
All's that lost made new.
There is a day,
Where there are no more tears.

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