Searching, Bleeding, Hoping

Winter's Bite

2011-02-15T11:32:00.000-08:00

Winter's Bite - Lee A Buckingham, February 15th, 2011

For my Father

Where will you go, O wanderer?
   Where do you seek, to seek?
   Misty paths, veiled eyes, dew upon a cheek,
Fallen tears of Heaven's dream asunder.

Dampened chill, patient clouds of doubt,
   silent cold, sun lost far above you.
   Frosted heart quakes with pain anew.
How soon shall ice leave your heart without?

Calm wind blows, cold and white,
   frost on sleeper's breath
   solace sought; not found, but death,
still no peace from winter's bite.

From Psalm 27

2011-02-12T22:45:00.000-08:00

From Psalm 27 - Lee A Buckingham - February 11th, 2011

Darkened trees, dagger stones, tangled briar-thorns,
    Chosen road, my heart's desire, you've lead me wrong again.
    Hateful Life, your choking grip, your circumstance constrains
my willful freedom, passion-thirst, and leaves me here to mourn.

I look aside, another way, my right to pick and choose
    my path in life; all mine to claim, let no one lay a hand
    upon my back, or yoke my neck, in freedom I will stand.
Yet by my will, these wayward paths, my life is what I'll lose.

Fears surround the foe within, by my own hand invited,
    my freedom gone by freedoms claimed, entrapped within a bower
    of darkling fears and goblin dreams, of fleeing dreadful showers;
falling drops of consequence, by wayward acts incited.

A thousand strong, the siege begins, my day of trouble near.
    And of the spears and shields born, how many have been hammered
    on the anvil of my heart, and in my soul-fire tempered?
Yet shall it be, even thus beleaguered, my cry, Lord, You can hear?

Ten thousand now, yet on my knees, the battle will I face.
    The wicked fall, my heart fears not, secure within the halls
    of a temple built, upon my heart, and by Your hand, the walls.
Of love, I sing, in this sacred tent, my fear subdued by grace.

Tempest plague now hurling 'round, whether sin or earthly foe
    stirs it thus, (how oft, I know), the deadly torment blasts
    my heart and burns my soul.   But by Your peace, I last
Through night's long trial, Your face, Lord, now I know.

Hear my voice, and heed my heart, Lover, All in All
    and save me from the world apart, and from the one within.
    Turn not Your face, all-lovely gaze, or leave me to my sin.
Kind Helper, be; forsake me not, you save me from the fall.

Firm confidence now mine, Your goodness I will see.
    In strength I stand, a strength not mine, upon the Lord I wait.
    In Destiny's hands, and in His love, do I commit my fate.
My light, my song, whom can I fear? I take heart, and wait on Thee.

A Prayer for Bread

2010-10-16T15:57:00.000-07:00

Lee Buckingham - October 16th, 2010

Bread for our bodies, for work to be done
   strength and good health, just enough to go on.

Bread for our neighbors, all that may be
   near us enough to be fed in your name.

Bread for the hungry, those with such need,
   from famine, sickness and bondage released.

Bread for the church, afflicted but valiant.
   Spirit and peace, in purpose united.

Bread for my soul, redeemed from the dark.
   Your broken body for my broken heart,
True bread, in this life, just the start.

Poem 19

2010-09-19T15:48:00.000-07:00

The words of this poem are the most honest way I can express what I feel. It cannot be answered, for the reply would have to be "You are wrong," whether I was so or not. I am not asking for a conversation or an explanation, they are always the same, for either of us, aren't they? Its just my emotions, as words, as closely as I can translate them.

For those of you who don't know the subjects, I am sorry, perhaps, for the darkness portrayed here. But really, we are all much more tumultuous inside than we often show; in any event, I am. This is just a bit of honesty, in that sense, on my part, because I don't know what else to do but say, "I am utterly frustrated and bewildered. Only God can know, and I will follow, as best as I am able."

On the technical side, this poem is written in the same form as "Beneath" which I consider my best to date, and one of the most heartfelt, besides this, Traitorous Heart, and a few others. There are some phrases common to some of the other poems I've written, and though not initially intentioned, once I noticed them, I chose to leave them in. They are all an expression of my heart, after all, and are likely enough to bear resemblance to one another. Let me know what you think.

Poem 19 – Lee A Buckingham – Sept 5th to 19th, 2010

Rock walls echoing with violent screams of deepest pain,

bloody fists upon cold stone, hammering on crimson stains.

A knock is heard, now drowned out by desperate aching cries,

wrenching wails of cold agony frost-burn the hand that tries

to crack the door of bitterness, which a soul constrains.

Cracking, chipping, thankless toil, we pound and pick and pry

at granite walls built strong and high under icy, tempest sky.

But with each painful inch we gain two more, it seems, are made;

thick mortar troweled, hard stones are cut and on the inside laid

to build a tomb of selfish woe and in despair to lie.

So on it goes, always scorned, and never clearly known,

and in your anger, your spiteful pride, our own is sometimes shown.

The labor hasn't always been by love, but by hateful bitterness

for wounds you cause to others here, lying in this wilderness

of ice and snow, with deathly chill; and yet you'd break their bones.

We drop our tools and look, forlorned, at snowy wastes surrounding

and beat our breasts to hear your cries from unknown depths resounding.

With each awful blow we land upon your frozen, mountain grave,

you hammer back with blinded rage, no malice do you save

for the hearts outside that offer love; to you, just hateful pounding.

Shall we stay, struggling on, through ice and labor breaking

our hearts upon the iron spears and arrows of your making?

Or shall we leave this bitter place and let you be alone

doing what you will in your private hell of stone?

It seems so easy; “Just forget. Consider not your heart's long aching.”

Yet should we leave, and seek relief, burying sorrows in the past,

still others would stay, laboring ever on, hard-set upon the task,

to cry and bleed, to bear the wounds of love trampled in the dark.

And for one, chained heart and soul to yours; one day perhaps you'll mark

the rending break, her heart from yours; in some storms, she may not last.

So we light a fire and stumble close to warm our numbing limbs

while still we hear your pleading voice echoing from within.

You ask for love and soul's comfort for the trials you've been handed

true sorrows deep, love betrayed, left suffering and abandoned.

But the love you want is to lay more stones upon the tomb you're in.

Again, what shall we do? To stay in this frozen place

is to toil e're against a dreadful foe, our love who turns her face

on all who'd try to help her see the awful mount she's built.

We cannot smile and praise your work, your solution to the guilt

of other's sins past, as if by evil, the evil we'd erase.

The storm you flee is real enough; icy grip on all our hearts,

with cruel wind and hail it has lingered on, but perhaps we see the start

of a change, a pause, perhaps a glow in skies above the peaks

The hope within, hope from above, all that we each so seek.

But from the depths, you may not know when clouds begin to part.

Admittedly my own hope for you is lost, or all but gone,

I cannot see how, that from the deeps, you can breath clean air again.

Yet you are not the only one who builds dark mountains high,

the Savior knows, that each of us, will never cease to try.

So of that hope, which I've received, I must hope too for you,

that the hand which saves us is still the one that makes the mountains move.

A Prayer for the Lost

2010-09-18T21:47:00.000-07:00

I wrote this for my church as we began to pray for the Muslim world during Ramadan. It is not, of course, exclusive to that one group of people. Lord, save us all.

We thank You Lord for hearing us,

God over the seas, higher than the stars.

Though we are lowly, You listen to our pleas.

Though we rebel, still You attend us.

Today our hearts are broken,

for though we suffer and travail,

a greater dark surrounds us

and casts down our eyes.

The world is dying and in darkness,

toiling without hope, yearning, unknowingly, for You.

As many of us that have been given Your grace

still more walk the world without it.

Heal them and turn their hearts to You.

Do not let them die alone and afraid.

Turn Your light to the darkened world,

and send messengers, even us,

with Your good news.

We praise You for Your grace, given to all

Help us turn to You, on their behalf.

We stand now, sick but healed, broken but whole

and ask the same for those lost without Grace.

A Congregational Prayer

2010-09-18T21:46:00.002-07:00

Lord, God, You grant us grace greater than worth.
Jesus, our King, You are more merciful than we understand.
Spirit of God, you bring us peace beyond reason.

Pour on us Your grace, for we are dying.
Cover us with Your mercy, for we are sinning.
Strengthen us with Your peace, for we are worried and afraid.

But we do not love as You do. Help us to be graceful.
And we do not forgive as You have. Help us to be merciful.
And Lord, we are angry and untrusting. Help us be peacemakers.

As You are grace, mercy, and peace to us,
We will be grace, mercy and peace in the world.
Amen.

It is intended that the first stanza is read by a leader. In the second and third stanzas, the congregation joins with the leader for the second part of each line. The fourth stanza is read all together.

Outside

2010-09-04T18:39:00.000-07:00

This is about being outside of something; in but not of; a part but keenly aware that you are somehow foreign. The analogy struck me while looking at the mountains above Forest Home, and feeling, just as keenly as what was in my heart, that in that glorious creation, on a cool, sunny morning under glowing ridges, that somehow, though physically, superficially present, that I was not part of the natural setting that I so admired.

Just so, there are times when we are called to be very much a part, yet subtly, powerfully separate. And though that separation pains me, it is clearly the right thing, and that pain is an outflow, actually, of love.

Outside - Lee A Buckingham, September 2nd, 2010

Whirling waters, cold and clear running

around my knees, from no where coming

to no where flowing, but I stand still.

Sounds in the wind, whispering, knowing

unknowable, teasing the senses.

Yearning I strain. Hearing, ever deaf.

In the pool, leaves swirl, shapes appearing

and vanishing, I see enough to know

but so little of sense, perplexing.

What part have I in this strange unknown,

what task before my hands, in a land

where my knowledge fails, my mind pales

with the height and depth of that which I

cannot be or know.

Let it Go

2010-06-21T11:19:00.000-07:00

For all of us who sin, and to some of us in particular, who are so often on my mind.

Let it Go – Lee A Buckingham, June 21st, 2010

Thoughts and memories plaguing me, searing my heart anew,
   as deep wounds, freshly cut. My lacerated heart.
I bleed and weep, hating what is behind, what still may be.
   Loathing the echoes of myself, left in me, echoing on.

I have nothing left, yet my pride clings to charred refuse,
  hanging madly to its treasures.
Let it go.

Paul's war rages on, wages all.
Christ was right, is still pleading that I'm lost.
Not the past sins, to repent, but of the sinnerman
  always alive, leading to the yawing, grinning hole.
Christ was right, there is no other way,
  but through Him.
Now, then, always. I sinned, but worse,
  I will always wander, run, crawl,
  back to death.
I live so forcefully in that world.

I repent, not for past deeds, but of my self, my whole.
I must die, one way or the other.
Let it be in Your death,
my King, my Hope.

Even so, so strong he pushes back,
  wrenching, screaming, begging, pleading,
for the darkness.
Sinnerman, all will be light.
Let it go.
The darkness is death, and that passing. Or else eternal.
Die now, and sleep.
Sleep now and wake anew.

One hope only remains to me,
that my Hope will finally slay me,
and let me live, finally and free.
Till then, let it go, let it go.

Grasping pride, in shame, fleeing shame.
Let it go.
Puff myself up, sinnerman, to cling to the falseness,
the shining, sun-bleached white,
of a skull.
Swell up and gorge on that hot air,
fed from the vents of Hell.
Cling to nothing, and die as nothing.
Burning, smoking, out.

Or die in Him and live.
Live His death and truly live.
Die to life and finally gain,
all that letting go can earn,
In loosing, losing, releasing, can be found
and only there is sought,
all that your hungry soul, my all, can ever want.

He will fill me, as I empty me
His blood will course
in my blood-let veins.
His life will live in my else-dead soul.

True life, true rest.
Hope now and wait.
Take courage, dare to kneel
take courage, dare to admit
the truth,
and be set free.
Let it go.

Easter Poem

2010-06-14T14:31:00.000-07:00

I don't know why it took me so long to post this. It is an expression of my joy in Jesus Christ's new life, and with it, hope for my own.

Easter Poem – Lee A Buckingham, April 4th, 2010

What joy bursts forth,
   my heart wide open.
The warm sun burning through
   the layers of fear and despair

What hope rises within,
   my chest swells with a new breath of life,
clean and pure, rest for my heart,
   invigorating my tired soul.

What loves pours over me!
   Fresh water washing away my sin.
Splashing in the waves, free and new,
   the old is gone, washed clean for my Lord.
I rise, a glistening, new, creation.

What fire blazes in His eyes
   White as lightning,
   casting out the shades and shadows,
bright as the morning's light shining new.
   The night is over.

My Savior lives,
   my King, my Love, redeems me
   awakens me,
   accepts me.
Chains are gone, now I live,
   because
my Saviour lives!

Patience

2010-03-26T21:23:00.001-07:00

Patience – Lee A Buckingham – March 26th, 2010

Waiting here, grumbling, not so patiently
   wondering when an end will come to this plot of circumstance.
I breath, and sigh, to think there be
   in this a willful act of providence.

I'm good inside, though wrongs I've done
   still certainly no exile is warranted.
I'm dark inside, though sweet songs I've sung
   I suppose, for such as I, these things are fated.

Worse yet I think that random chance is preying here upon me.
No reason into, and no purpose out, of this woeful valley of misery.

But yet, I believe, somewhat more than less,
   that my Maker has, His will applied
and not left me here, myself to best
   the trials, and these longings to abide.

Lord, I try to wait on You, and bide my heart
   I know that by grace alone I live,
but still more grace, might You impart?
   My greed and need ask relief, from You, to give.

But in Truth, being patient with You, Lord, comes more naturally
if I but remember just how patient You've always been with me.

An old journal entry

2010-03-08T13:16:00.000-08:00

I was reading through parts of my last four years of journaling and came across an entry that surprised me somewhat. At first, I thought that it had been written a few months ahead of my first poem, "Traitorous Heart," but in actuality, it was two years and several months earlier. The text is a little different in parts, but it is virtually the same cry to God. I thought I'd share it with you. (it starts with a Psalm that inspired the prayer)

"May 15th, 2007

Praise the Lord, O my soul;
   all my inmost being, praise His holy name.
Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not His benefits -
Who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases,
Who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you
   with love and compassion.,
Who satisfies your desires with good things, so that your
   youth is renewed like the eagles.

Psalm 103: 1-5

   My desires are so dark and my diseases so deadly, so aweful, yet You can heal me and satisfy my with Your good things. Its hard to believe sometimes (most of the time!) that I could possibly be worth Your attention, even in the smallest part. It is only by Your hand that one such as I could be saved from the destruction to which I so quickly run.
   Lord, save me from myself! I want not the sick things in my heart, but to fly free of these bonds; this slavery of my soul. Let me live only that I might serve You and live in Your peace.
   Be Thou my soul's satisfaction. Be Thou my rest and perfect peace, even amidst the deadly gale of my heart.   I am Yours, save me! "

Beneath

2010-02-23T14:38:00.001-08:00

Beneath - Lee A Buckingham, February 23, 2010

For my sister

Cracked, aching layers of life, of death, of cherished hopes turned ashen.
Chalky, crumbling bricks, falling houses of the graven.
    Shining, polished visages, our idols of feared Acceptance.
    Override a deeper part, the dark of our existence.
The chilling, drowning deep, lies buried, boiling, hidden.

Underneath, weeping, crying, hoping. Ousted and forgot.
Somehow flickering amidst the dark, less tangible than a thought
    Crushed in the dark, extinguished. Grave earth piled high upon.
    A light and longing, impossible hope. Of heaven's peace, the font.
Eternal thirst, blessed wrenching against this snare in which we're caught.

But deeper still we dive, or sink, into our blackest hells.
From remorse and guilt, fear and hate, of despair, our cup, we fill.
    Into a wretched waste we leap, till we alone remain
    forever shackled to ourselves, blistering from our molten chains.
We carefully choose our cherished lies, drawn from the flaming well,

Yet under all, still a spark of life, or else a longing for.
A painful reminder that hope there be, though we try, we can't ignore,
    In our hearts, so deep beneath, perhaps calloused beyond cause,
    we know, or knew, that we are not defined by our fatal flaws.
From this prison we have built, our faith is the only door.

Believe the hope, your dying thirst, placed there aeons passed.
Trust unquestioned that you are more than any shadow your sins may cast.
    You need not fall from the weight that's tied, indestructible, to your heart.
    The little flame, glimmering deep inside, is your truer part.
Hold on for now, in this loathsome night, you will see the sun, at last.

So even blackened as we are, still wait, and hope, and pray,
   that another's blood will pay for all that we have spilled,
   so that we, forever empty, may be forever filled.

For Our Dedication

2010-02-16T22:37:00.000-08:00

Crest Community Church - For Our Dedication, written February 16th, 2010

I wrote this for my church family at Crest, for the dedication of our new building and all that God has in store for us. Be Faithful, Walk Boldly!

A long road has brought us here
    with many lessons learned.
    But look ahead, a new road begins
    for which our hearts have yearned.

Remember our past struggles
    as well the victories
    for the lock upon this newfound hope
    it's they that have been the keys.

Brood not upon our trials
    they have not been in vain.
    All wandering guided by our Lord
    will not end with pain.

Strike now the earth and build with brick
    fine prairies to be tilled.
    The Lord has brought us safely here,
    it is finally time to build.

Embark upon the ancient ship
    for a time bound to the land,
    now washed white and sails taught,
    the voyage is at hand.

Fear not the wave and frothy chop
    sail boldly out to sea.
    By grace our vessel's been made anew
    and from its moorings, freed.

Come with me, shed your fears,
    loose your deepest hopes.
    Cast out your doubts, dry your tears,
    heave off despairing ropes.

Walk boldly now and lift your face,
    we are blessed with boundless grace.
Rejoice and sing, cry out aloud,
    for here we walk with God.

The Precipice

2010-02-08T00:45:00.000-08:00

The Precipice – Lee A Buckingham, February 7th, 2010

I struggle as one walking on the edge of a precipice.
    Teetering I falter, stumbling toward the dark abyss.
Once again Your strong hand, unwarranted, keeps me safe.
    Upon the edge I gasp, new life granted by Your grace.

But this story is not new, no, I've been here oft' before.
    Once caught I should flee this edge, yet I dare my death once more.
Ernest is my cry, as one the first time beleaguered.
    My past I've not forgotten, though still I have not learned.

Always You will save me from my own misguided steps.
    But to the edge, that darkened pit, again my way has crept.

I long to leave these ups and downs and journey far from darkness,
    but on such a path my will's soon lost to grey forgetfulness.
So back I slide or blindly wander, caring, heeding not
    that my crooked road so soon returns to that mournful, dreadful spot.

Lord, teach me how to mind my way whether blessing or trials pour,
    that always may I onward tread what e'er may be in store.
Tis not only in the crisis that Your salvation gleams,
    but also upon more peaceful roads, when on it the seeker leans.

For victory lies not in that glorious end we'll reach,
    but on these very flags and cobbles allotted to us each.

This Storm

2010-01-17T14:28:00.000-08:00

My poetic summary of Eric's message today, on Paul being shipwrecked. Great sermon, by the way!

This Storm – Lee A Buckingham – January 17th, 2010

This storm wails on, pounding, crashing
    I man the wheel and tighten sails
    driven on before the gale.
Yet for my efforts, the timbers breaking.

Why this storm, this hellish path?
    What sin or folly's brought me thus?
    Forgive my sinful foolishness!
But yet no pause, the waves still lash.

Weeks of darkness, endless tossing.
    My skill and knowledge, all exhausted,
    my strength and will, by wind defeated.
No sun or star o'er head are passing.

Again I ask, Lord, why this storm?
    Cursed am I, given to the deeps?
    No more doubts, but despair is heaped
upon my soul, so black, forlorned.

Yet you lift my eyes to churning sky,
    through spinning clouds and tempest sea,
    not forsaken, here with me,
whether to death or life, we ply.

There are some storms we must travail
    though we may not understand.
    We need not know what You have planned,
it was never our job to sail.

To Your white shore this tempest blows
    whether one of sand or heavenly light
    I count this storm Your work of might.
Grace we'll see ere this chapter close.

Thank You

2009-11-29T14:37:00.000-08:00

Thank You – Lee A Buckingham, November 29th, 2009

For this path, my life, I thank You.
   Your promise, firm, Your grace endures.
   They hold me, keep me, through the years,
Always faithful and always true.

My way grows dark, wind howling, cold.
   A blizzard blows with frosted knife.
   I thank You for this bitter ice
though numbness sets and tears are pulled.

My joy stolen, against my will.
   My sorrows ringing in my ears.
   Destitute, taken by my fears.
Yet in my loss, I thank You still.

Betrayal gores. My bleeding heart
   torn wide. I fall upon the snow.
   Wet stains of red, and yet I know
I will yet thank You, for my part.

For through all of these endless trials
   it is Your grace-filled path I walk.
And over all the painful miles
   of Your salvation I will talk
and sing, in joy. For this one road
   alone will bring me to Your blessed fold.

Not Defeat

2009-11-18T11:27:00.000-08:00

This poem is not about my most recent struggles, for those of you who know. It is more of a comment on the seeming difficulty of following the narrower path in life, and how the world's ways seem so enticing, and yet so contrary to my soul. It's to an eight-count, with alternate lines rhyming (mostly).

Not Defeat – Lee A Buckingham, October 20th and November 15th, 2009

This path feels so much like defeat
     fallen, gasping o'er bloody ground.
Vainly do I wait? E'er we meet
     shall dirge give way to sweeter sound?

Jealously I watch, longingly
     my eyes see paths for those
whose own roads they've picked, though wrongly
     in false freedom they have chosen.

Your road, though now so hard to tread
     I will follow. To Your pure spring
through dark paths, haunted with the dead
     You shall lead me, and will safely bring.

Tis victory. We fly not from foe
     but on wing. In Your perfect will,
destined for Your courts, white as snow
     our tormented souls, calmed and still.

On Relinquishing, a Sonnet

2009-10-04T13:59:00.000-07:00

I've recently begun to read John Milton, and have become completely enraptured. I've never read any real poetry besides the Psalms and other scriptures and am very taken by the more formal style of some of his works (especially his sonnets, at the moment). So as the thoughts of this poem started to coalesce this morning during the worship service at Crest, I decided to attempt the thing as a sonnet. The form is a little different than Milton's Italian form, as the second set of four lines do not follow the same rhyme as the first four, but hey, I'm a beginner. Let me know what you think. (Iambic pentameter is tricky!)

On Relinquishing, A Sonnet - Lee A Buckingham, October 4th, 2009

Through wave and chop, this little boat now sails.
     My will relinquished, I no longer steer
     the vessel of this life, past rocks, in fear.
     Safe passage, You will give, or I shall fail.
To wind submitting, waves crash as they please.
     My destruction seems on cold shore to loom
     and should I go this way myself, sure doom
     Your way, even here, safer than still seas.
I trust in You, Your plan, I know I must
     steadily follow, though the way is dark
     The ropes and rudder still my mind entice.
My doubt, still churning, cracks and chips my trust
     floating, listless, lost. Wandering like the ark.
     Like then, still now, Your way: Not death but life.

Suffering

2009-09-13T13:45:00.001-07:00

This was inspired by Eric's message today (on suffering).

Suffering – Lee A Buckingham, September 13, 2009

The broad road is smooth
     easy does its way wander
Down into the valley
     a cloak of darkness hides us
Delicious and numbing the poison
     as it flows over our tongue
Ease and comfort pile upon us
     sealing our graves
Our hearts yearn for it,
     this blissful, terrifying death
We hide our deepest parts
     and close our ears to our soul's
     anguished cry

The narrow road winds away
     into the high places it twists
Pain in our legs, weariness in our hearts
     will wear us thin
But as we sweat, amidst the tears
     the poison is drawn from our veins
Christ grants us this suffering, these trials
     for real life, pure joy result
We climb higher and our bodies waver
     but somehow our feet are lifted up
A strength joins with our frailty
     and keeps us on the path
     in our weakness we become strong

But down below the sun does not shine
     it beats not so hard on their backs
A little shade, a downhill path
     draws our minds, deceives us
Suddenly our salvation seems a burden
     surely a little rest is earned
We stop and sit, we wander away
     the suffering of our climb left behind
But in our hearts, real death creeps in
     real suffering, eternal, awaits us
It is a deception that we love
     that this pain is avoidable,
     but through it we are saved

“Follow me,” through hardship and trials
     Your evil parts can yet be slain
     your spirits finally freed
This suffering is not a death,
     but pure water for your souls

Discipleship

2009-09-02T09:55:00.000-07:00

I wrote this after Brandon's message last week in church. Just a short.. something? Not really a poem or story. Anyway, I liked it. =)

Discipleship – Lee A Buckingham, August 30th, 2009

     And seeing them there, I thought, “Like me, they need a defender. How can they survive the wiles of their enemy if no one will stand for them?
     “But there is no one here. He who fought for me is gone, and has left no one in his place. Yet there is a sword here. It fits in my hand... though my arm is weak.
     “And here too lies a shield, fitted already to my arm. Is there even a helmet? This armor, too, could be my own.
     “But I am no warrior. Was it not but a short time ago that I needed a defender of my own? Am I not still untrained? I cannot wield this weapon.”
     “You sir,” he asks, tears in his eyes, “Can you not protect me?” In my heart I am afraid.
     “I am but a wretch,” I think, “posing as a soldier. If I lead them we will all die together.”
     Now approach the enemies, lust in their eyes, blood of our souls still wet on their lips.
     Cloven he lies now, and the man stands safe. “How they watch my feeble blows... They will not learn aright from me. Even now, I've stumbled... we are lost.
     “My life goes on... my enemy is fleeing.” So we, weak and feeble still, stand together.
     “You have taught me,” he says.
     “And he, me,” says another.
     And so it must continue.

Lost

2009-09-02T00:51:00.000-07:00

I'm laying here awake with a troubled heart. I thought I'd write some of the emotion down. I think it still needs work... I'm not very skilled with rhyme and meter, it seems... at least not together. Comments appreciated, as always.

Lost – Lee A Buckingham, September 1st, 2009

The illusion of this life strangely baffles me
Is it light or darkness that so confounds my sight?
Glaring lights and blurring colors, though seeing, I do not see
I close my eyes, still it swirls, is it phantoms that I fight?

The causes and concerns, clanging like brazen symbols,
A madman's symphony, nonsensical and urgent.
clouding my mind with crashing blows
yet will You stay silent?

Into this darkness comes no sun,
in a vast cave I wander alone
Lost and scared, in a panic I run,
though only into walls of stone.

You said, “hear my words,” but, Lord, I hear no sound...
You said, “follow me,” but, Lord, I cannot see...
This body, this life, this living death in which I am found
is all I know and now consumes me even as its lure I flee

Madly I try to make some sense,
though blind and deaf I lie,
cold and frustrated in the darkness
my will ensures that here I die.

I try to believe that You've made a way
yet still cling sinful doubt and fear
Wisdom I desire, yet is it not that choice you make
when naught lie paths so clear?

Where then, shall I go?
Wait for direction that may not come? Or worse,
choose a way and wander more
when patience was the course.

What is this man that you have made?
As anyone knows himself, I do, yet so confused and lost
I am for what purpose you have laid
upon my life, and for my soul, so great the cost.

So finally, my own desires, so sinful at their root
are naught but worries and fears
The darkness within has driven my thoughts, my words
and clamor falsely in Your ears

Instead I ask that for Your sake, my life, now You keep
until the day even I may finally know
that it has always been your path, so narrow and so steep
upon which You've made me go.

A Stone in the Sea

2009-08-08T13:32:00.001-07:00

A Stone in the Sea – Lee A Buckingham, August 8th, 2009

Pounding, crashing come the waves
Rocky shores buffeted, tormented
Howling, the wind blows wet and cold
The rock stands yet
Glistening, soaked, tortured by the sea
What strength sustains it?
Surely it will crumble
With a mighty crash, the tides will shatter it
Still it remains, fast and sure
Alone now in the rising tide
The rolling sea covers it
The sky forsakes its jagged peak
Now it has perished, surely
The icy currents lashing, waves tumbling overhead
Through the night, the sea roars, madly bellowing
The shore unseen, shadowy cliffs loom in lightning's flash
Underneath sands churn, waters boil
The onslaught never ceasing
With the dawn, the ocean falls away, the storm rolls past
The sun shines weak upon the coast
Forlorned, a form appears
Dark crown emerging from the quieting sea
Silent, cold, marred but fast, standing sure
Its creator wills it to endure

A snippet of fiction

2009-08-05T14:14:00.001-07:00

Not a poem. I'm not sure who will be interested in this, but its a blog, so I don't think that matters as much. =)

A Shadow in Chase

There was little time now, Eledii had fallen and the darkness was coming. “Kaiya, come quickly now, we have to leave the city!” She took her daughter’s hand and fled from the chamber. Down the spiraled stairs and into the garden they flew, heeding not the flames and smoke falling upon their broken home. In a blur she passed through the empty streets and out the great portal. He was close behind; the darkness was upon them. Still she fled, even to the eastern precipice.
The abyss swirled and shimmered below them but their paths were chosen, even unto such terrors. “Kaiya,” she thought, “that is our way. We must go now!” The young girl peered over the edge into the serene and terrible whirling.
Then he was there, chilling their souls and darkening their thoughts as he came. She stood to face him and wove her power about them, defying his summons. His silent, horrible laugh rent their hearts, relishing the moment Eledii’s way parted forever. Then he lunged, grasping for them with shadowy claws. But he was a moment too late.
She took her daughter in her arms and leapt from the precipice. Down they fell into mysterious lights. How long they fell ere they reached the end, yet she felt him coming.

They finally emerged from the clouds high above an endless ocean. The radiant sun burnt orange and red in the west as it sank into the farthest deeps. Far below she saw an island and made to alight there. At last she checked their fall with great silver wings and her feet touched the soft sand of the twilit coastline. Setting her daughter down, she peered up into the heavens. There he was, plunging like a dark star out of the clouds, lit momentarily by the failing sun. She made ready her will, for she knew she could fly no farther. The abyss had not stayed him and not with a thousand years could she conceal herself from him in these forgotten lands.
Like thunder he crashed down upon her, rending her shimmering shield with a clap that split the stones below them. She smote him with her white fire and he pierced her with his dark blade. Again and again they struck each other, sundering the island in two and sending the sea into a fury. Finally she could fight no longer. He stood before her, his ancient chest heaving with fatigue and yet full of power. On her knees she longed for Eledii and knew she would soon join him. His mighty blade clove the fabric of space as it crashed down upon her. But she had feigned. As the evil weapon stole her life from her, she put forth her power and will and bound his spirit to her own, neither harming him nor herself dying.
“Run, Kaiya!” she screamed, “run now into the ocean, for there lies your way though it may never again cross my own. Kaiya, Kaiya, my beautiful daughter, run now and remember!” Then she breathed her last and fell into darkness. He stood above her broken body in a dark shadow, clouding out the light of the moons and stars. He looked about and perceived the power of his fallen enemy wrapped about the shores, hiding the little girl from him…
Kaiya plunged into the ocean, hearing her mother’s words echoing through her mind. She would not let him find her, she would escape…

The waves tossed her small and cold raindrops pelted against her pale face. She could feel him searching for her, gazing darkly through the surf. Again and again he conjured dark phantoms in her mind, willing her to turn back. “M’ma!” she called out, still hearing her mother’s cries echoing through her mind, “help me!” She swam on, beating her arms and legs as hard as she could against the relentless current. But he was too strong. The webs of evasion her mother had wound about her daughter could hold no longer. A dark shape rose from the water ahead of her. His dark shroud stood eternally black against the dark sky behind. He laughed at her as she struggled futilely against the merciless waters. But as he reached for her, two cold hands grabbed her waist and pulled her into the watery darkness below. She struggled to free herself but the grip of her assailant was as stone. Down into the blackness she was carried but before long, she could feel a darker blackness following behind. She realized that whomever had hold of her was not taking her too her enemy, but fleeing with her. Faster than any fish they sped through the miry depths and she closed her eyes to shield them from the cold water streaming by. Soon she perceived another being beating hard against the water beside them. She felt herself being handed off to it and suddenly they lurched forward, even faster than before. The water roared past her ears as her new rescuer raced onward. How many hours they traveled, she could not tell, but always, as the darkness grew closer behind them, she was handed off to a new host. Her body was nearly numb from the cold but never during the strange, terrible flight, had she wanted for breath.
At last they began to ascend toward the surface. As they drew near to the waves, the water grew warmer and she could sense a strange sun touching them with its rays. She felt slimy seaweeds whipping past them and could now hear the muffled sound of waves crashing against rocks. Suddenly, her final host checked his speed and broke through the surface. She felt a warm, wet wind blowing against her face and heard the cries of gulls in the air above. But then a shadow fell across the sun and her pursuer rose like a tower out of the water behind. She could feel his wrath burning against her rescuers and perceived that they had caused him great pain.
“Go now, princess,” said her rescuer, “he cannot hurt you on these shores.” His voice was strange to her and sounded of the moving waters in the depths of the sea. He put her down and she found that the water was only chest-deep. “Go,” said the voice, “he draws near.” She turned to look at him and for a moment, before he returned to the water. She saw that he had the form of a man with great shoulders and arms but his eyes were orbs of jet, clear and dark. Then she fled. The shadow was close at hand now and she knew he would reach for her soon. She struggled through the shallow water and pushed hard against the soft sand below. She flexed her wings and spread them wide in the warm morning sun. They sparkled in the orange light and cast shimmering rainbows upon the water below. With a great effort, she pulled her tired body into the air. Hovering there for a moment, she turned to face her opponent, knowing that unless she could stay him, he would overtake her before she could reach the shore.
He watched her in silence as she hung there. Her wings beat quickly against the air and wove an ethereal display of color and light around her small body. Deftly she wrapped her enchantment around his mind and though he willed to assail her, he did not turn his eyes and thoughts from her lovely wings. Then she fled, leaving him for a moment in confusion but then his anger exploded in flames, turning the water into steam, scorching the wet sand at his feet, and blasting her with its heat. On she flew over the shallow water but still he drew near.
In exhaustion, she dropped to the ground, splashing knee-deep into the surf. She was so close now but could fly no longer. She turned to face him again and he filled the sky behind her. In his hand he wove a great spear and hurled it through the air with deadly aim. But before the shaft had left his hand she spoke a word of defiance, of which her father had taught her before the darkness came. The spear shattered in his hand, and its iron shards smote the dark warrior.
“So you would use both the might of your blood and the ancient tongue against me,” he bellowed, his fell voice reverberating through the air and echoing off the rocky shore, “neither shall I leave you with before I slay the last of your line, defiant child. You will learn, be it however briefly, that it is futile to defy your fate and the dark one together!” Then he lunged, casting his dark sorcery about her. An agonized scream pierced the air but was cut suddenly short. He laughed as she fell into the water, clutching her burning throat. “Never again will a sound pass your lips, daughter of darkness,” he taunted. Then he rose up to his full height and wove a great magic about him. He sung of sundering and eroding, changing and stealing. And as he wrapped her in his dark energies, she could feel strength being torn from her body and weakness creeping through her veins. But as he neared the end of his spell, a small dart pierced his side and a weak but pure power penetrated the wound. He howled in pain and fell to his knees in the shallow water, sending a mighty wave crashing about him.
“A body you chose long ago, both for power and for pain,” spoke a weak voice from the water behind. “So both you have received, now and until your end.” White energy coursed from his side and wrapped him in luminous chains. But still he resisted. He rose once more and reached for the fallen princess and death was in his hand. But she was not there. He looked up and saw a small, frail body crawling from the water onto the dry sand. Then he let out a great shout and as he did, an inferno of dark flame and a tempest of cloud blasted the beach. But no farther than the gentle waves lapped its sand did the storm come. Kaiya was safe.
He stood there for many hours, watching his prey lie unconscious, helpless, and untouchable in the sand. Then finally he vanished, leaving only a cloud of smoke and steam behind, and dark glassy sand where his fires had smote the beach.

Grant Me Wisdom

2009-08-03T13:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday's sermon was about God's wisdom. I wrote this as I listened to the message.

Grant Me Wisdom - Lee A Buckingham, August 2nd, 2009

Lord, grant me wisdom.
The ways of men lead to nothing,
they are circular paths,
taking me from trouble to trouble.

Lord, grant me wisdom.
Keep me from the lures of anger, of vindication.
My enemies may prosper and succeed in their ways,
but I must not become like them.

Lord, grant me wisdom.
My fretting and worrying are angering to You.
They lead me to fearful, darkened thoughts, and Your enemies rejoice.
Fill me with Your peace, and dispel my wayward fears.

Lord, please grant me wisdom!
So many desires, so many needs, fill my mind.
All my plans, and all my cunning will bring me nothing.
If You do not lift the blindness from my eyes, I cannot succeed.

Lord, I need Your wisdom.
In my eyes, the pebbles seem as mountains,
and the lion as a gnat.
I will be lost, and I will be devoured.

Lord, grant me wisdom,
that You might delight in me.
Let me bring joy to Your courts, and peace to my house.
Grant me Your wisdom, Lord, so I may live.

In the Desert

2009-08-03T13:06:00.001-07:00

I wrote this yesterday in church (as well as "Grant me Wisdom"). A lot of it is coming from the actual physical issues I've been going through, especially in the first stanza. The main thought I am trying to capture is that when everything around you is crumbling, and even the world and your life seem to be at their end, then the only thing that is left is Christ, and that is what heaven is. If we choose to see it, it is in our most stinging weakness that we are closest to Him.

In the Desert - Lee A Buckingham, August 2nd, 2009

In my hands, weakness grows
my arms have lost their strength.
I am weary, my chin falls to my breast,
tired, longing for rest.
My soul stares out over the desert.

Dry winds parch my spirit,
my adversaries approach.
In their strength, they stir up dust on the horizon,
clouding the sky, darkening the sun.
What do they seek? I have not even the strength to flee.

I long for rest, for a quiet place,
that my soul might lay down to sleep.
Where, Lord, is my strength?
From what rock will you bring forth your streams?
Can I rest by those quiet waters?

My mind is a fog, a desert haze,
swirling and dry.
I lift my eyes in wait for you,
even as I lay upon the sand.
For Your salvation, Your joy, I thank you.

It is even in the screaming, searing winds,
that Your gentle breeze calms my mind, cools my mouth, brings peace.
In the thunder and the lightning, in the howling gale,
I hear Your whisper amidst the chaos.
You say, “I am with you.”

Then the storm rages and the skies darken,
all earthly hope flees from my mind.
I turn to You, and all that remains in that empty, deadly place,
is Your wondrous life.
In You, I find my peace, my eyes have light.

No storm will now make me flee,
I will be made to endure.
Your gentlest touch scatters the winds,
the vultures cry out and return to their crags.
Only You have saved me.

No wide desert will now make me falter,
though my body turn to ash and dust.
Though I fall, still all that is within me
will praise Your glorious name!
For in this desert, all that remains is You, my joy, and delight.

And where you alone remain, I am lost no longer in the desert,
but in a glimpse of heaven's light.

Every Breath

2009-08-03T12:41:00.001-07:00

I think this one still needs some work. I'm not sure if it flows quite the way I intended it.

Every Breath – Lee A Buckingham, June 25th, 2009

Praise Him who never gives up on me.
Though I fail and fall, He holds me up.
Even in my dying throws, He refuses to
let my errant will be done.
Praise you, Father, for Your never-ending,
unearnable grace.
It is Your success that is found here in my life,
not my own, even when I cannot see it.
Though my body is weak, and my life caves in
around me, it is You that upholds me, and I
will cry for joy as I cry in pain.
Even amidst this deathly dark, and that confounded
by my blindness, Your light, seen or no, will
lead me on.
I have sworn before, and failed my promise,
that each of my breaths is Yours.
And though I may again fall away, again I praise You,
For each beating of my heart is a gift, and every sweet
breath of air a joy to me.
They are yours from first to last, and I am grateful for
however many or few remain.
With all that is in me, I praise You and Your Holy Name.
Every breath that I take, my King, I offer to You once more.

Traiterous Heart

2009-08-03T12:30:00.000-07:00

Traitorous Heart – Lee A Buckingham, June 21st, 2009

My heart is traitorous.
I am an enemy in Your courts
yet You invite me in.
When You should throw me out,
unwilling to allow my poisonous desires
into Your Holy place,
yet You would have me remain.

Scald me in Your fire
return me to the dust from which I was made
Yet from Your hands, out of dust, I was formed
I must be cleansed in the end for You are Holy
Devour me in Your heat and flames
That I might not be consumed in the end
For burn I must.

While I weep at the blood I have shed
my knife strikes again.
While I return to Your paths
I eye the darkened roads.
Can I detest myself and love You
While fleeing into the darkness?

Chain me with heavy chains.
I do not want to run.
You must constrain me
or I will be lost.
Place Your yoke on my neck
and break my beast’s will,
that even in my rebellion
I might plow Your fields.

My heart is Yours
and I would rather have me slain
than bring dishonor to Your name.
I hate the evil within me
but am bound to it.
Break my back and crush my body
that I might be free.

You alone must save me
for no one else has the strength
and I cannot.
Save me, Lord, from myself.

The First Post

2009-08-03T12:12:00.000-07:00

Hi all,

In contrast to my website, which is dedicated primarily to my gaming and hobby interests, this blog is intended to be a vent for some of my other creative works. To begin with, I've started writing short poems lately, and decided I'd like to share them with you guys. I'm not sure how often I'll add new ones, but so far, I've written four in the last two months. I'd be proud of myself if I kept that pace, but who knows. Additionally, I might post little snippets of other writing I've done; even short stories if I ever finish one. I have no confidence in my writing yet, and have no idea of its quality, so don't be alarmed if it seems amateur. I'm not really intending on wowing anyone, just sharing and maybe inspiring others to do the same. All the same, let me know if you like anything!

-Lee-