Tides of Life

                   Tides of Life

Missing our kids today,
Watching soccer and knowing,
In the blink of an eye season of life will be done.

Knowing more letting go,
Giving and receiving,
Tides of life lapping the shores.

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 from a long overdue family vacation three years ago. We hadn't been on vacation all together since we moved to the country so this was a big one to Maui.

Being Human

              Being Human

Logic squelches faith,
Weighed risk and go passive,
Resistance rooted in fear,
Need to define and control outcomes,
Paralyzes growth and movement.

Curiosity minimized,
Flame of life snuffed,
Dead before dead,
Cold logic lifeless,
Unshared life lived calculated.

Reality defies logic,
Rationality's control broken,
Suffering defies control,
Pain screams at false security,
Lies and interpretations fail to comfort.

Being Human invites:
Irrationality of beyond control.
Trusting what can't be reasoned out.
Faith that God is good.
Choices of what and who to believe.

Abundance in spite of what I see,
Love regardless of what I experience,
Hope in midst of suffering,
Life while dying,
Joy and grief held in tension.

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

September's Harvest Moon

September's Harvest Moon

Brilliant and full.
Reflective glow.
Arousing soul.
Long Night's Moon shows.

Reflection arouses.
Stirs desire.
Vulnerability browse.
Silhouette's fire.

Passion wakes.
Stimulates thoughts.
Soul quakes.
Connection sought.

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

Inductance

         Inductance

Shift 90 degrees
Capacitor inserted
Voltage spike
Mega Vars pushed

Capacitive inductance
Reactive power
Inhibit reluctance
Flush the sour

Thin plates in paper and oil
Small gap between
Space new soil
Physics elegance so clean

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

Wisps of Memories

                         Wisps of Memories

                                         -i-
Crossing the irrigation ditch a pungent woody smell draws me in.
Memories from twenty four years ago waft to the surface just as pungent aroma drifts.
Always drawn back to the highlands of Papua New Guinea moment is as fresh as the smell.
Wisps of time gone by surface once more.

                                          -ii-
As exited the little Cessna greeted with high pitched joyous singing.
Dropped in the middle of Shangri-La.
Tetons of Wyoming dropped at the equator.
Its lushness tastes like fresh strawberries they bring.

                                        -iii-
When the rain drums upon the barn tin roof.
Reminded of the night in Port Moresby jet lagged.
Can’t sleep, smell of dampness as rain drones rhythmically on tin.
Wondering what I’m doing so far from home.

                                        -iv-
Mind drifts again to another time even further back, thirty two years.
Hum of rain on tin roof of mud hut outside of Gonaives comforting mind.
Treacherous journey in a Toyota Land Cruiser in torrential rain to the Albert Schweitzer Hospital in Deschapelles.
Two desperate parents I’m driving with a young child stiff with tetanus who later dies.

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

Written for an online poetry class.

Reality Adjusted

        Reality Adjusted

When the lights go out.
The phone goes dead.
Communications circuits go silent.
The lockout tripped.

So goes a day.
Being human is okay.
Power interrupted.
Reality adjusted.

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

Burr Patch with the Millennium Falcon

We affectionately call our Ford E150 van the Millennium Falcon. It rattles and has all sorts of road noise, and purrs like a Wookie at times.

Burr Patch with the Millennium Falcon

In a burr patch,
Millennium Falcon lost half of rotating propulsion system,
Needed a Wookie and some droids,
To repair propulsive drive.

In a burr patch,
East of Bridgeport,
Tire torn beyond repair,
Jack up the van.

Move it out of burr patch,
To the middle of a side road,
Unstable on the jack,
Wobbly but back on track.

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

End of Season

End of Season

End of season nigh,
Irrigation soon to cease,
Marks the shift of season.

Family seasons changed,
What once was will never be again,
Move forward flowing with transitions.

Frost will soon coat green Nebraska pastures,
Cool and fresh mornings in waning days of Summer,
Tinge of color change in leaves.

A  hush will fall on the land,
Sound of ditch water singing falls silent,
As creation prepares for Winter, so too must I.

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

Good Son

            Good Son

Words you are a good son,
Rattled to core,
Uncovered so much to explore.

Words you are a good son,
Pierce hard heart,
Shocked at their power.

Words you are a good son,
Lies crumble,
Realigns everything.

Words you are a good son,
Stirs dormant places,
Warmth floods heart.

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

Goodness

          Goodness

              -i-
Goodness of Father,
When make a huge mess,
He still loves me,
Waiting for me to seek Him out.


              -ii-
Goodness of Father,
Receive all He has,
change beliefs, stop pushing away,
Embrace who He is.


              -iii-
Goodness of Father,
I am for you,
I believe in you,
Come as you are.


              -iv-
Goodness of Father,
Waiting for sons and daughters to return,
Lavish love waiting,
Run into His arms.

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

Time Always Advancing

     Time Always Advancing

                -i-

Time always advancing,

One day crawling,

Seems like always be around,

Day arrives to let go.

                -ii-

Time always advancing,

Tears at heart,

As drive away,

Their journey they must take.

                -iii-

Time always advancing,

Family dynamic changes,

In a few years back to two,

Journeys converge and diverge.

                -iv-

Time always advancing,

Still a family,

Expression of love changes,

Passing through stages of life.

                -v-

Time always advancing,

Filled with loving memories,

Truth about failures,

Love covers, vulnerable and genuine.

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

Stubborn Places

                   Stubborn Places

In one moment relationship turns south,
What had been good now in doubt.
Can't bring to conclusion,
Filled with confusion.

Discouraged in arguments recycled.
Can't stay focused on any one issue.
Hop from one to the next still unresolved.
Separate and torn stubborn place.

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

Red Dusk

                    Red Dusk

Red dusk breaks across horizon,
Bleeding like smeared mascara,
Across nature's cheek.

Weeping at the close of day,
Familiar hints of Autumn's approach,
Grief fades to blackness.

Don't weep for days past,
Remember not all that's been,
Pre-dawn's light brings new hope.

Each season changes life,
All to be experienced,
Born again in the season.

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

Silence

                          Silence

Gray light in quietness of morning,
Walking in the hay field,
Stillness wraps around us.

Swallowed in the womb of silence,
Softness of nature's serenade,
Resting land awakens.

Grogginess sluffs off,
Vibrant colors come alive,
Revives the soul.

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