Michelle Buck

A little peek at things I love

God Will Avenge Me

Kitts2_004Photo Credit: MorgueFile

1 Samuel 24:12
May the LORD judge between you and me. And may the LORD avenge the wrongs you have done to me, but my hand will not touch you.

 

My memories have not faded
Just because time has gone by
I remember being 8, 9, 10, 11…
I remember your face, your insincere smile

I remember the books we read,
The Presidents faces smiling on the wall—
What did they have to smile about?
Another witness to it all

And I feared you, being so strong,
I thought you more mighty than I
You made me think that even God
Regarded me not as worthwhile

And I kept my head low, my face down
I kept silent and feared my voice
When I forgot the fear, I spoke
Receiving your punishment of choice

Did you never read that Bible
From which you liked to misquote?
Did you ever hear Jesus speak of children?
On them, he loved to dote

The kingdom of heaven belonged to me
But you made me fear the gift of life
You took the most beautiful thing I ever had
Cutting at my heart with your verbal knife

“Whoever causes one of these little ones
Who believe in me to sin, it would be
better if a millstone was hung around their necks
And they were thrown into the sea.”

 

Aftermath by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

aftermath

I read this poem the other day and I liked its significance to my own life. It reminds me of  Ecclesiastes 3:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

Aftermath- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

When the summer fields are mown,
When the birds are fledged and flown,
And the dry leaves strew the path;
With the falling of the snow,
With the cawing of the crow,
Once again the fields we mow
And gather in the aftermath.

Not the sweet, new grass with flowers
Is this harvesting of ours;
Not the upland clover bloom;
But the rowen mixed with weeds,
Tangled tufts from marsh and meads,
Where the poppy drops its seeds
In the silence and the gloom.

Peace Like a River

I have a hatred of dreams. Most of the ones I have are stupid, but often times they give me anxiety. I used to have dreams after my brother died of him still being alive or me trying to save him. Those happened for a long time after his death. I sometimes would dream about my Dad too. Then when my mom died, things got worse for me. I couldn’t watch any shows with dead bodies in them. I’d have the worst nightmares and anxiety. It was horrible.

I don’t watch TV before bed. In fact, I try to think about things that are uplifting before my head hits the pillow. Last night I was talking with my son about Jesus and creation. But it didn’t matter. Bad dreams came. Two different ones and equally hard to shake. The dream I had this morning was one where I thought I was completely alone and everyone was gone–it felt extremely real and isolating.

So after 2 nights of those kinds of dreams, this song popped in my head:

Lyrics:
I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got peace like a river in my soul
I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got peace like a river in my soul

I’ve got love like an ocean
I’ve got love like an ocean
I’ve got love like an ocean in my soul
I’ve got love like an ocean
I’ve got love like an ocean
I’ve got love like an ocean in my soul

I’ve got joy like a fountain
I’ve got joy like a fountain
I’ve got joy like a fountain in my soul
I’ve got joy like a fountain
I’ve got joy like a fountain
I’ve got joy like a fountain in my soul

I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got love like an ocean
I’ve got joy like a fountain in my soul
I’ve got peace like a river
I’ve got love like an ocean
I’ve got joy like a fountain in my soul

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about peace and joy. I feel like sometimes it’s within reach, but I fail to grasp it. This verse sits on my desk as a reminder to me of how God speaks and gives us courage in our anxieties–not only does he do that, but he calms our storms–bad dreams, stressful life events, ect.

For they all saw him [Jesus] and were terrified, But immediately He spoke to them and said, “Take heart; It is I. Do not be afraid.” And He got into the boat and the wind ceased.” Mark 6:50-51

I’m still learning how to embrace this Jesus who calms the wind and the waves and gives peace like a river. I’m learning that God ordains things in my life for a reason. And I’d like to think that putting a song in my head after a bad dream was one of those ways God cares about me. The universe isn’t speaking to me. God is. And sometimes its the song that gets stuck in your head that he uses.

Remembrance

tree_bw (2)

I don’t know how I have lived this long
With tortured soul and mind
When passing, I remember the song
Of the ones who fell behind

And every glimpse, I see their faces
As if they were my own
I remember the times, familiar places,
But to others they are unknown

And the saddest thing I realize
These memories are all that’s left
The hole they caused, I cauterize
Beneath the scar, my hope bereft

To the one who seems to know all things,
To the one who claims an answer—
How do you rid this life of its sting,
When the loss eats at you like a cancer?

There is no such thing as felicity
No elaborate bow one can tie
Around the words of suffering
So today, please let me cry.

 

Started writing this poem about a month ago and never finished it. But then today I saw this Writing Prompt and thought I’d participate so I finished up the last few verses and edited the rest.

Prompt: For this week’s prompt, write a tough spot poem. The poem can be about your own situation (past, present, or future), someone else’s, or whatever you can conjure up. Think late bills, shootouts, and tough choices.

A little more than just a “tough spot” though.

The Storm

duck

Overwhelmed, these dark clouds
Attempting to find peace,
Weighted down, heaviness
From within you must release

Streaming down, one by one
Falling to the earth
Why this insidious need
To amplify your worth?

Flashing, the furious heart
The rising, the uproar
As quickly as it gushed forth
You flee the wanton war

Composed in a mass
Flaunted by its splendor
A river of bewildering tears—
A reminder of surrender.

Purpose

airplane

The wind sways the branches
The leaves flutter and fly
Their own little journey–
They never ask “why?”

Around street corners
Through feared alleyways
Under footsteps, crunched
And broken they lay

Thrown into piles
With children, collide
Some tossed in the air
Others wither and die

This is their plight
Their undoing, their fate;
Accepting their lot
They don’t mourn as they wait

Freely they float and
Carelessly soar,
This is their purpose–
It’s what they’re made for.

The Future of Forestry by C.S. Lewis

I like origins. Where do things come from? How did that name come about? And so it was when I started to like a band named “Future of Forestry“. And this band’s name originated from a poem by C.S. Lewis–a poem by the same name.

Here is the poem:

The Future of Forestry

How will the legend of the age of trees
Feel, when the last tree falls in England?
When the concrete spreads and the town conquers
The country’s heart; when contraceptive
Tarmac’s laid where farm has faded,
Tramline flows where slept a hamlet,
And shop-fronts, blazing without a stop from
Dover to Wrath, have glazed us over?
Simplest tales will then bewilder
The questioning children, “What was a chestnut?
Say what it means to climb a Beanstalk,
Tell me, grandfather, what an elm is.
What was Autumn? They never taught us.”
Then, told by teachers how once from mould
Came growing creatures of lower nature
Able to live and die, though neither
Beast nor man, and around them wreathing
Excellent clothing, breathing sunlight –
Half understanding, their ill-acquainted
Fancy will tint their wonder-paintings
Trees as men walking, wood-romances
Of goblins stalking in silky green,
Of milk-sheen froth upon the lace of hawthorn’s
Collar, pallor in the face of birchgirl.
So shall a homeless time, though dimly
Catch from afar (for soul is watchfull)
A sight of tree-delighted Eden.

At first glance, this poem seems nothing more than an environmental call to action (keep our trees!) but really, if you read through it a few times, it is more than that. It is talking about how the simple things are no longer taught or known and things like materialism are common knowledge. Children will no longer understand nature and beauty, but instead be fancied by things like shopping and entertainment. I like this poem because it reminds me to hold on to beauty and to adore the one who gives us everything that is beautiful.

The Things That We Should Say

This song resonates with me as of late. I’m battling criticism both good and bad.

The good criticism is hard because it causes me to be introspective, to change, to become something new. This isn’t easy. It’s like taking a piece of my heart, ripping it out, and eventually replacing it with a new piece–a better one. But in the process, I bleed and hurt.

The bad criticism is also painful but in a different way. It hurts to be told by people you thought were friends that you are too sensitive, you are not friend material, or to feel as if I’m unlovable. I hold people at arms length (or a football length actually) and when I do put trust in someone, it always seems to be the wrong thing to do. Then there are those people who just want to give unsolicited advice and their motives seem to be that they just like to slap you over the head with their Bibles. It is hurtful and feels cruel. When you are already down, it feels like a kick to the gut.

This song talks about things that should be said and how we are failures, but words can either heal or hurt. True friends might wound us by giving us words to change us (to help us grow) but those who aren’t true friends can injure us and hurt us with their words. You never know how you might bless someone or critically wound a person with your words.

This band is one of my favorites: Future of Forestry.

The Things That We Should Say

Time with you and time once had
Passed between my hands
The memories we can feel them fade
Like circles in the sand
A thousand thoughts, a thousand dreams
Lost within the day
A thousand ways for souls to touch
The things that we should say
The things that we should say

It’s been a cold, bitter mile
Maybe it could be a while
Til the sun and the sky light the way
I’ll bring you close, you could stay
Before our time has gone away
We should say the things that we should say

Tendencies and weaknesses
They make me who I am
I’m falling through the cracks and turns
Of circles in the sand
It’s not lost when your love is near
Don’t let this world turn grey
The dreams of hope and lips that heal
The things that we should say
The things that we should say

It’s been a cold, bitter mile
Maybe it could be a while
Til the sun and the sky light the way
I’ll bring you close, you could stay
Before our time has gone away
We should say

It’s been a cold, bitter mile
Maybe it could be a while
Til the sun and the sky light the way
I’ll hold you close, would you stay
Before our time has gone away
We should say the things that we should say

Changes

As well as writing poetry, I think from time to time, I would like to maybe post a blog article once a week. This will be random–maybe something I’m learning or something I enjoy.

Also, I think on Fridays I will be posting “favorites”. I am hoping to highlight poetry that I am reading or just favorite poems that I love that have inspired me. I’ll maybe pull some from some of my favorite authors and post those once a week.

I will still be posting my own poetry as well, but would like to add a little more depth to this website like things I enjoy other than poetry and things that inspire me. If no one else reads this, at least it will be a record of things I like and enjoy :)

Wave of Emotions

rainbow

Like a dance across quicksand—
I collide with its form
Engulfed by its current—
An emotional storm

He spins me around
In a circle, we waltz
Until I am dizzied
And spellbound by thoughts

Swept off the floor
I am carried away
As anger beats loudly
Its song to betray

And when the Big Band
Concludes its last dance
I let you go, hands slipping
From this superfluous romance

Plummeting to the floor
I look up at his hand
As Regret steps in
And strikes up the band.

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