Busy Brain
Busy brain,
Anxiety rains,
Watering worry,
Mind hurries.
Busy brain,
Anxiety reigns,
Watering fears,
Mind unclear.
Busy brain broken,
Not living in today.
Creating stories about tomorrow,
Release control return to now.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Busy Brain
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Liminal Spaces
-i-
Liminal places in the change of season,
Where heart wrestles with reason.
Good letting go in loving well,
Waiting for clarity's clear bell.
-ii-
Liminal space fully embraced,
Emotions flood the face.
Step of faith to release,
Finding His peace.
-iii-
Liminal soul longing to be made whole,
Emptied out waiting for full.
Allow the turmoil reject becoming some stoic drone,
Cleansing and healing in the unknown.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Thank you Rob Bell for using the word liminal. A good listen on change and seasons of life. http://robbell.podbean.com/e/episode-115-seasons/
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Fog's Embrace
Dense fog in Western Nebraska as walk in the fields. |
Fog's Embrace
-i-
Dense fog embraces creation like lovers entwined.
Heat of passion creates steamy thick low clouds.
Groping each other, earth and sky, as young lovers.
Creation coated in glistening wetness.
-ii-
Beauty aroused in shroud of mist,
Veil of privacy upon the land.
As a curtain obscures bed chamber,
Teasing lover with what's obscured.
-iii-
Curiosity awakens in the brume.
Wind driving low clouds.
Creation blushes in voyeuristic pleasure.
Intimate dance of creation in the air at dawn.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
For poetry vignette assignment. Inspired by thick fog on this Nebraska morning.
Friday, August 26, 2016
Stuffed Monkey
Stuffed monkey perched in the window,
Holding the Engineering Scepter of Knowledge and Power.
The magical scepter that corrected logic problems,
When waved over the HMI.
Made of scraps, a golf ball with a dose of silicone.
Trinkets collected over time,
Accumulating after project completions.
Items with memories with co-workers who are deceased,
Treasures from twenty five years ago.
Tokens brought back to the office,
That brought laughs and moments of sanity.
One day they will be boxed up,
Sent to the dumpster as seasons change.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Mellow Sky
Early morning in Western Nebraska, Scotts Bluff National Monument visible to the left. |
Nebraska mellow sky as day begins.
Still air and quiet engulfs.
Creation begging for a breeze.
Drizzle finally plays on barn's tin roof.
Peppering dirt and forming beads of murky wet.
Animals quiet as slowly doused.
Releases aromas forgotten.
Tied to memories now awakened.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Thursday, August 25, 2016
Toes in the Water
Toes in the Water
Toes in the water,
Mountain stream runs,
Sweet relief,
Refresh feet.
Splash with my lover,
With our children too,
Cold brings a shiver,
When out of shoes.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Sullen Clouds
Grayish blue clouds linger,
Sullenly hang beyond reach.
Occasionally spitting contempt,
Foul mood disseminated on the land.
Land waits for change,
Calm before the storm.
Deep breath in,
Before the plunge.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Monday, August 22, 2016
Children
Children
Waves wash over,
Love and sorrow.
Resistance gives way,
Accept change and transition.
Whirlwind of memories,
Want to pull back into past.
Instead a vast new horizon,
Invites exploration.
Ever advancing and growing,
Changing and maturing each day.
Resisting season change is futile,
Embrace and ride the wave.
Feel all the turmoil, touch it,
Express love in it.
Relationships maturing,
New ways of relating as let go.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Waterfall's Cleansing
Waterfall in Spearfish Canyon |
Plunging from such height,
Splitting light,
Multicolored aura fills the air.
Carving out a path,
Washing away,
Edges smooth.
Pouring over the soul,
Smoothing jagged edges of mind,
Cleansing in the Water of Life.
Wade in a little deeper,
Cool cleansing flow,
Purges sooty soul.
Captivated in the beauty,
What has been purified,
What will be set free.
Friday, August 19, 2016
Trust
Trust
Deeper trust in letting go,
Launching children now adults,
Into the sea of life,
Knowing they will thrive.
Satisfaction in knowing,
Loved them well,
Being intentional,
Equipping them for the journey.
A place of giving that becomes joy,
Expanded ability to give as they cross threshold,
Passing through with blessing,
Love demonstrated AND expressed.
Walking through as a family,
Not isolated pockets to process alone,
Drawn closer together,
And roots go deeper.
Peace and presence of God settles in,
Filling all the crevices and holes,
Joy in the giving,
Celebrating the next phase of the journey.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Monday, August 15, 2016
Acts
-i-
Actions speak louder than words,
Motion building steam,
Creates locomotion,
Wheels start to spin.
-ii-
Actions speak louder than words,
Intentions are meaningless,
Just mental candy,
Unless creates actions.
-iii-
Actions speak louder than words,
Put money where mouth is,
Truly believe in something,
Actions focus resources.
-iv-
Actions speak louder than words,
Love without action is empty,
Love expressed with actions,
True demonstration of love.
-v-
Actions speak louder than words,
Just fooling self,
Wishing and fantasy,
Love without works is dead.
Sunday, August 14, 2016
The Blessing
Transitions of seasons,
Launching and blessing.
Giving away what wasn't given,
God is my supply from which I can give.
In the giving blessing,
Undone places are healed.
Generational changes,
Reorder all that's been unfinished.
Grief transforms to celebration,
Sorrow gives way to joy.
Struggle of journey softens,
Peace and contentment washed with love.
So much to pack into a few days,
Really just need to rest.
Not about last minute preparation,
Truth is son is ready to fly!
He will be just fine,
Love does win the day.
Love wraps up his departure,
He has journeys and adventures to live.
His metal will be tested,
He's seen modelled failure, get up, fall forward.
Truth is keep falling forward,
Deep struggle produces deep roots.
Intimacy with Father,
Everything will work out.
Don't have to worry about missing it,
God has many paths to the same end.
Love wins the day,
Cost all that you have.
Exposes the heart,
Go deeper in love with Him.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Saturday, August 13, 2016
Cost of Freedom
Turning his head for one last look of home, giddiness washes over him as he walks away. Eerily ensconced emotions endlessly echo. Leaving it all behind, the cost of freedom.
Frail young body racked with pain. Callously cancer claimed creation.One last labored breath. Leaving it all behind, the cost of freedom.
Found the one to share my life with, giving self away. Joys and sorrows in the journey. Gladly giving grace gazing face to face. Forsaking all others, cost of freedom.
Friday, August 12, 2016
Dog Friend Bear
Bear, our dog |
My dog friend Bear,
Follows me without a care.
Loyal companion all these years,
He's slowed down yet walks still share.
Not as often does he follow,
Weather cool, he has a hobble.
White masks his face,
Age leaves its trace.
I pause more often to give him breaks,
He brushes close and rub his ears.
He's happy to wander the fields with me,
Keeping me close as I move irrigation water.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Thursday, August 11, 2016
August Sky
About this poem: Last night as the sun is low moving ditch water and just observe all that is around me in the moment. Caught up in the beauty.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Where Have I Been
Curiosity has returned,
Small things catch my eye,
Water bug scooting on water,
I stop and wonder where have I been.
Waking up from numbing slumber,
Sand rubbed from eyes,
Honey bee on alfalfa blossom,
Sweet nectar aroma draws me in.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
Fountain Pen From Which Soul Flows
Ink flows from my pen,
Fountain of words drawn to the page,
Something changed with this pen,
Way it writes drawing ink to paper.
All the others stay in my pocket,
Always choosing fountain pen over all others,
This lusty relationship feels obscene,
Seducingly spilling poems upon journal page.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Mist
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Sunday, August 7, 2016
Prairie Oasis
Never been bothered to stand alone.
Beside the irrigation ditch water babbling flows.
Making a statement on edge of the fields.
Boughs rise in worship caressed in early morn's light.
Eagles, hawks, and owls find perch in my presence.
Shade for the fawn in midday prairie heat.
Sing summer harmonies rustling my leaves,
With melodic meadowlarks and meandering water.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Saturday, August 6, 2016
Seasoned
-i.-
Lilac blooms have faded,
Soft smell has given way.
Fall is ever approaching,
Now smell of corn as tassels.
Green will soon give way to brown,
Combines in fields harvesting,
Completion of springtime and harvest.
Years marked in seasons now.
-ii.-
Seasons change,
Infant to child,
Child to adult,
Husband to lover,
Lover to father,
Back to lover and beloved.
-iii.-
Cycles and seasons of healthy family.
Long view of choices made.
To undo and repair much energy now.
Twenty years ago minor correction yielded great harvest today.
-iv.-
Season that compound fruit of labor,
Compounding in relationship.
Breaking, uncreating, destroying, unattaching from generations before.
Making things right.
Redemption proclaims race isn't to the swift.
A soft heart, tender with God, restores, heals, and renews.
Today is the day to begin, don't wait.
Never too late, if breath in lungs can begin.
-v.-
Seasons of planting small steps today,
Sets into motion fruit harvested years later.
As long as have breath there is hope,
For renewal, restoration, salvation.
Today is the day to work it out.
Prepare the field, plant the seed, tend the crop.
Long view yields much fruit and legacy.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Friday, August 5, 2016
Dark Night of the Soul
Dark Night of the Soul
i.
Everyone will be tested,
In ways unexpected.
Don't be surprised,
By the dark night of the soul.
ii.
World crashes in,
Collapse of mind, will, and emotions.
Soul and spirit broken,
In the dark night of the soul.
iii.
Never alone in our story,
Regardless of how gory.
There is One who walks beside,
In the dark night of the soul.
iv.
All that's been crushed and destroyed,
Instead from the ashes arose.
Resurrection of being,
Journey through dark night of the soul.
In life I have discovered there are multiple dark nights of the soul. Each is an opportunity wrapped in the harshness of living in a fallen world for restoration with God. In spite of my interpretation of the circumstance I am never, ever alone - God is always there. Just breath and lean into the moment, allowing God into the pain, sorrow, and grief. The wrestling in the moment with what will I believe, who will I believe is part of maturing and the journey.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Thursday, August 4, 2016
Midnight's Judgment
Gavel strikes heavy hissing punctured atmosphere.
Midnight,
Judgment gallops closer.
II.
Midnight's dark shadows casts pale and cold,
Hope sucked out in vortex void,
Reckoning tonight,
Justice's scale balanced again.
III.
What's been can't "un-been",
Choices made, die cast.
Heart torn asunder in colosseum,
Accounts reconciled in midnight hour.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
Free With Joy
Free With Joy
Always greet me at the door,
Playful eyes with wagging tail.
In the present border collie lives,
As brushes up to hand on ears.
Silently communicates checking in,
Ready to run once again.
With each year kinship grows,
Free with joy they overflow.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
Summer Gratitude
Another Nebraska painted sky,
Sun settles below horizon as prep the bale wagon.
Playfully lazy clouds low in eastern sky,
Glows soft red, pink, and orange.
Colors layered and distinct,
Blended by Creator's smooth touch.
Bigness of sky awakens awe,
Hidden in life's daily events.
Beauty gently draws to goodness and hope,
Setting of sun closes a day with both good and evil.
Before God clean the slate,
Renewed for another day.
Vulnerable, open exposure fostering intimacy,
Express gratitude for His faithfulness to me.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Monday, August 1, 2016
False Lovers
False Lovers
False lover sell my soul to,
Led to slaughterhouse.
Idolatrously prostitute self,
To a person, belief, or thing.
False worth attach,
Leaves empty and hollow.
Settle for less,
Than intimacy,
With covenant lover.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.
Abide
Lost and adrift,
Let go of control,
No secure point of reference,
Nothing makes sense.
Internal panic,
Nervous energy collapse,
Alone in the journey,
State of unknown.
Can I trust God,
That I'll be alright,
That I don't have to know,
In Him alone abide.
About the Author: Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.