BUOYED BY GRACE: poetry for the soul

By Stan Schmidt

Buoyed by Grace is a book to encourage those going through struggles. It has vivid word pictures and thought provoking rhymes, and other poetic forms, to inspire the reader. Trusting the Lord amidst difficult times is a main theme in the book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798823018838

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© 2024 stan schmidt. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/07/2023

ISBN: 979-8-8230-1884-5 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-1883-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023923898

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Introduction

My Melodious Ballad

Flowers In The Weeds

The Shell

Whittling

As The Crow Flies

The Unload

Triggers

Back And Forth

What Should Have Been

Richter Scale Or Not

A Bit Tattered

Fellow Travelers

Less Than Parallel

Ghost Ship

I Am Sorry

Seeming Wasteland

Cracked

Pursuit Of God

Ultimate Treasure

Well Ran Dry

Bail

Incongruity

File Thirteen

Dark Night Of The Soul

In Conflict

Life

Exit

Shoes

Litterateur

Living Water

Count Your Blessings

Color Red

Delete

Flicker

Equanimity

Ice Breaker

Weeble

The Barrage

The Discard

The Aftermath

Enigmatic

Limitations

Someone

Smog

Psalm 73:25-26

Scuffle With Reality

Season Finale

No Apparent Answer

Thy Will

Amongst The Tombs

White Caps

Rose Garden

Skin In The Game

Revival

Force Of The Remnant

What?

Weeds

The Phoenix

No Exemptions

Cabal

Canceled Debts

Quieted

Squirm

Died

Wallflower

The Living Narrative

Notes

Compartmentalize

The Botch

Headlights To A Deer

Why I Live

Manifested

Vacuous

Buddy System

Our End

Smidgen

Ignorance Is Bliss

Vestal

Now I Get It

Masterly

Hole

Stylus

Does It Only Take A Spark

The Subsequent

Where

Saline

In Recent Days

Be Anxious For Nothing

Paltry

I Would Like To Know

Spirit Mission

Gladiator

Less The Panic

Obstacle Course

Athwart

Odd Company

The Wait

Lily In The Valley

No Longer Hostage

Resplendent

Mausoleum

Lamp To The Soul

No Can Do

Credo

Woodwork

Puzzle

I Fell In The Mud

Imbue

Hiatus

Gift Of An Ear

The In Group

Sentences

Forest For The Trees

Closure Or Not

Just Throwing It Out There

In The Throes

Until Kingdom Come

Time Will Tell

Cemetery Stroll

Fear Of Man

Hey, Over Here

Kaleidoscope

Poem To Jesus

Overcast

Off With The Sandals

Flagellate

Be Not Afraid

Have I

Blessed Agony

Shutdown

Shutdown Encore

Tired Of Waiting

Flies

Your Defender

Saint

Yet

Not A Clue

From The Sheep

What I Need, He Is

Kittywampus

Either Or

The Poet Weeps

Fog Of War

Lesser Is Not Greater

Shiny Object

Surpassing Comprehension

Sounding Board

Astigmatism

Cacophonous

Maturation

Passion For Your Passion

No Crown

Dearth

Nothing

Spigot

Breakthrough

Shore

I Love

My Friend

Layaway

Sleeping Dogs

The Ignorant

Father’s Wisdom

Less The Beckon

Sense Out Of Chaos

The Key

A Psalm

Envy

Even So, Come

Pedestal

Sideways

Doppelganger

Step By Step

Mend

Fender Bender

Vertigo

The Cloud

Hushed

Diminish

Away From Home

The Yoke

The Writer

Reanimate

Moments

Withered Leaf

The Overwhelm

That Friend

Chatterbox

No Waver

Head In My Hands

Testimony Of Others

In The Mode

Not Just A Story

My Garrison

Exemplar

Bosom Burning

Saturday Morning

Befallen

Ever Singing

Seasoned

Papier-Mache

Dead Dreams

Cotton

Closing In

Radio Silence

Penman

Sequestered

Tantalize

Seasons

Momentum

Hill

Eagerly Await

One More

Don’t Need It

Less The Feral

What Is That In Your Hand

The Helper

Sola

Be The Ball

Involuntary Glutton

Prescription

Love Song

Stay On Topic

My Way

Disheveled

Bombardment

Wilderness Wandering

Impromtu

Do I Wait

The View

Baby Steps

Agape

Less The Decay

My Refuge

Landlord

The Valley

The Exasperation

The Jury

Cherry

Repudiation

Crossroads

Slip Through The Cracks

Kangaroo Court

Living And Enduring

Straight Line

Waterloo

Not Forsaken

The Chuckle

Ship’s Rudder

That Time

Off The Deep End

My Own Eulogy

We Cannot Miss The Point

One Talent

Martyrdom

Glutton For Punishment

Mailbox

What A Force

Alcove

Navigation

Oh My Goodness, Father

Buoyed By Grace

Simple

The Aforementioned

Compensation

The Decades

Today’s Cry

Signals

I Heard It

Croon

Wholeness

Bell Weather

Nostalgic

Photo Bomb

Inkblot

Lantern

Ashen

Stalwart

The Lake

Not My Undoing

When He Was Reviled

Grace Amazing

Altered

Cradled

Said Situation

I Do Have Angels

For The Few

Rather

Ransom

Sixth Sense

I Claim Nothing

Well Not Dry

White Flag

With That Said

I Have To Believe

Blackout

The Sacrifice

We Adore You

House

Hues

The Saints

Calloused Knees

Nothing Is Over

The Self-Efface

Buzzards

Carry

Train

Soldier

No Return

Viewpoint

A Recent Pondering

Juxtaposition

Floodgates

Straight Jacket

I Still Believe

Nadir

Disintegrate

Bliss Of Ignorance

Road Map Deficient

Finger

Afield

Still Around

Birthday Poem

Shortchanged

No Longer Crying

Creativity

Good Old Days

Supposed Ruins

Vanishing

My Heaven

Mystery

Push Not

Come In Heavy

Stones Cry Out

It Is Not Me

Out From The Shadows

Scarlet Thread

My War Room

Escapism

Regretful Hindsight

Mr. Thief

Lottery On Steroids

Ask For The Moon

Who I Am

Safekeeping

Proxy

Divine Gamble

Soundtrack

Extant

My Last Thought

INTRODUCTION

I thought that my last book, From The Deepest Well, was going to be my final book of poetry. I put my heart and soul into that book. But, here I am still with a passion to write poetry.

The Lord has brought me a long way down the road and has taught me to trust Him. Therefore, this book is inundated with poems of hope and life.

With that said, this book does talk a lot about difficult times with vivid word pictures and utter transparency. We all deal with life in real time and space, and so I write honestly and authentically about what we go through.

These poems are not arranged chronologically, although they were all written in a two-year time period. Also, the subject matter in this book changes from poem to poem (unless noted). We all have a variety of life stuff, and of which, I write about. Sometimes I write about what I have been through, sometimes what others have been through, and sometimes merely a spiritual concept. Spontaneity encompasses much of my poetry. It is almost as the wind blows. I hear a word or phrase or song or read a verse or experience something, and it inspires a poem.

For some reason I have this deep desire to put my thoughts into poetic form. That is, whether hard times or great times. To say it is therapeutic would be an understatement.

At any rate, it will become clear right off that I am a follower of Jesus Christ, and the poetry in this book will reveal that quite clearly. He is the one who has buoyed me by His grace and kept me afloat.

I hope that what I have put together in this book is an encouragement to the reader. I write to bless the reader, especially those going through hard times. My hope is that what I put into poetic form meets the reader where they are and gives voice to their own struggles, and subsequently hope.

MY MELODIOUS BALLAD

poetry is a genre unique

of which only a minority actually seek

appreciating the rhyme and verse

for a moment a refuge in which to immerse

allowing painted pictures by sonnet

hopefully with some deeper meaning upon it

a limerick or a jingle probably not

rather something more substantial thought

a ballad of passion or pain

fair weather or stormy rain

personal experience without the fairy tale

the joys of life or the wail

sunny days and picnics or the fiery furnace

either way emotion comes in earnest

for me, it has been a great release

my contentment surely to increase

now the nice thing about poetry

it is that you can use brutal honesty

documenting the personal and the dramatic

exposing all the stuff in the attic

with nothing pretentious

simply a zeal that clenches

and yet at the same time

people, places, and events are hidden in the rhyme

all so the reader cannot pinpoint and know

the ultimate facts are veiled in innuendo

so my poetry has exposed me completely

and yet it has all been done quite discreetly

which means the reader knows what I have been through

but nailing it down they have not every clue

for the historical reality behind my eyes

it is somewhat in disguise

hence my heart is there for all to see

even though it still remains a mystery

which is the beauty of poetry

as the people, places, and events are for a trusted few

to them I give the whole story and not just a clue

now the point does remain

others who have gone through the same pain

they know that I know how they feel

so to them my poems become very real

realizing someone has walked in their shoes

and paid their dues

I am not one who could not care less

I pen poetry for the reader’s heart caress

which is the reason I write

to help others get things right

to bless and encourage

to give them a hope and not a dirge

assisting them to a higher acumen

as we live out this life as a human

wishing my poetry to be an unsuspecting agent

healing the reader’s heart from reality’s estrangement

buttressing them with the words I write

buoying them in their dark of night

all so the sun does not their clay harden

but their butter to soften

that their trials would not break them

but make them

truly, my melodious ballad has a purpose

succoring the reader to rise above the surface

without a doubt, I do not write for me

I write for thee

because if my poetry blesses the reader

rising them from being a bottom feeder

then my anthology

of poetry

it would have been worth all the time

sitting here writing about life into rhyme

FLOWERS IN THE WEEDS

we all know that in the spring

life simply appears

where did it come from

flowers blooming spontaneously

colors and smells galore

even for us not akin to botany

we are amazed at the wonder

and then we see the same in our lives

God creating something out of nothing

life from death

beauty from struggle

revelation from agony

flowers in the weeds

ingenious no doubt

so the weeds no longer discourage

for the Gardener is at work

THE SHELL

oh that protective shell

thinking it is how we are to remain well

barricading ourselves behind

so others, our heart they cannot find

or our history

or our misery

or our weak resolve

or our sin we cannot absolve

yet now and again

we come across that friend

someone we actually can truly trust

where the shell is no longer a must

we can humbly open up our heart

a relational dynamic that is certainly art

because perpetually hiding

with no one confiding

it is a detriment to the soul

and makes amiss our goal

since the beauty of a trusted friendship

the glory of a comrade’s fellowship

it is life to our being

sadly, such friends are rarely seen

however, they do exist

and they dare not be missed

now when such a gift happens by

it should make us cry

a friend to whom our story to tell

someone to get us out of our shell

WHITTLING

taking an unformed piece of raw material

no, not inanimate but very personal

the Creator carving out His image in us

sure, something bold and adventurous

since we have a lot of rough edges

certainly needing transformation to our pledges

yet God whittles away over time

longing for His image in us to rhyme

hence the shavings fall by the wayside

the process often leaving us with tears cried

as the blade, the shavings, and the whittle is what we see

rather than our Lord’s profound creativity

often resisting His artistry

because the final product we do not fathom

but oh if we would simply trust Him

we would know His chiseling is all for our benefit

for all He fashions is our blessing to befit

sculpting

and molding

He wants our heart and His in unison

as He conforms us into the image of the Son

bringing us back to our original created purpose

His love and grace the stimulus

etching away the sin behind our face

while making us something for His trophy case

not a piece of wood or lifeless statue of folklore

simply a creature finally bearing the image of its Creator

AS THE CROW FLIES

oh sure, when we encounter adversity

we wish it would disappear quickly

hoping as the crow flies

a short distance to its excise

although the long way around God takes

a route with little daybreak

hence our desired flowery beds of ease

they seem left in parentheses

now the crow may cause our travel to be jollier

yet God allows our sores to fester

knowing the long route is our ultimate healing

as our crown He is polishing

the pain

is our gain

altruism from self-absorption

immaturity into oblivion

ignorance to wisdom

and godliness rather than transgression

restored to His image our final restoration

with our ache a central element in that destination

so let us smell the roses in the long journey

since the Lord is leading us on to victory

leaving us not caring about the flight of the crow

but only our God to love and deeper know

THE UNLOAD

heavy was my heart

so I needed to depart

to get away

early today

I needed to unload

thus I hit the road

needing to take a walk with my Lord

unloading my burdens I poured

getting everything off my chest

God’s kingdom to invest

crying out in intimate detail

so needing some wind in my sail

thus unload I did indeed

and I was freed

a marvelous saunter and stroll

giving radiance into my hole

a perfect morning weather-wise

along with a fresh spark in my eye

the hundred-pound pack was removed

with a trust in God behooved

TRIGGERS

making our way onward smoothly

along with a sense of serenity

but then there appears a trigger

a loss of peace manufacturer

bringing an onslaught

that, of an unwanted thought

shoving back into our face

hindering us from running our purposed race

a monkey wrench thrown into our gears

causing a quagmire between our ears

and down into our heart

potentially our harmony to depart

hence we sigh at the trigger

with contentment now a bit costlier

since the straight is now diagonal

the effects less than circumstantial

yet amidst the triggers that assail

we have a God who cannot fail

He who gives us our needed leverage

as faith becomes our determined verbiage

because the trigger can do what it may

while not leaving us bleak and blasé

truly, triggers attack me daily

even constantly

but such is life in our present state

however my spirit they do not incarcerate

as the Son has set me free

working in me

a disciple’s mentality

one who understands the wars we must fight

where in the dark He gives me His moonlight

BACK AND FORTH

it is not a bad place to be

wanting another person’s mercy

to ask for help in a time of need

an emotional tourniquet for our bleed

as we were created another’s burdens to bear

to meet them in their despair

and sometimes that needy person happens to be

you or me

yet too often we balk at our own request

sure, we wish to be blessed

but we struggle thinking we are a bother

or think our needs to another do not matter

hence our needs remain unsaid

although that is mostly just in our own head

as there are some true friends who would love to give

coming to our aid so we can more truly live

ergo, we must allow others the opportunity us to bless

letting them their genuine heart to express

I mean, if no one receives

then no one can give

and giving some really wish to do

which mean the onus is on me and you

therefore we must shed the false humility

and ask for help when we are needy

so again, it is fine to say

that we are not okay

for that means we are real and not plastic

which augments a true relational dynamic

no doubt, I am fine is the general response by rote

everyone acting like they are staying afloat

verily, now and again we encounter a different breed

those who impart and receive in a time of need

a bond created with a loving give and take

moreover, tomorrow may flipside the ache

thus we then meet the other in their time of need

buttressing them in their plead

giving a silver platter back onto their plate

just as they loved us for our needy sake

WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN

as I ponder life’s deep realities

a glaring beacon my heart sees

it should have been me on that Cross

and all to my eternal loss

for as with the entirety

of humanity

I was one who cried crucify

my own depravity to deify

a traitor to God Almighty

my life awash in stupidity

a moron and a rebel

being exhibit A of a numskull

but one day the lights came on

I saw the horror my sin God’s heart upon

and it left me aghast

so I forsook my past

repenting in utter humility

oh my goodness am I thankful for His mercy

as I am not in my deserved hell

but my soul has been made well

I mean, I committed treason against my Creator

yet He loved me as my Redeemer

thus this poem as I write

I must tears from my eyes wipe

what in the world have I been given

marvelously by a holy God loved and forgiven

is it any wonder that I would stand

even after giving God my backhand

there, right in front of a firing squad

proclaiming unto death that Jesus is my God

because He took my place on that Cross

now I will give Him everything no matter the cost

RICHTER SCALE OR NOT

the earthquake of the past years

the shaking my heart still hears

for aftershocks yet abide

with the tremors alongside

attempting to rock my foundation

and keep my stability undone

making me feel like I live in a shanty

yet I am actually an heir to royalty

a member in the court of the King

as under the placard of His Cross I sing

with that said, even as of late

the quake attempts my faith to eradicate

but I will simply stay in my lane

knowing my life is under His reign

hence the shaking can shake

of which never takes a break

even so, no matter how much I have cried

the Richter scale is not my guide

now it surely had significant impact

of which I would not wish to reenact

however, through it all I overcame

with my heart set aflame

since the earthquake only deepened my faith

enlarging my spiritual attaché case

steadied amidst the tremors

because in my King I am a conqueror

indeed, the jarring actually puts things into place

pushing us to realize that life is in Jesus’ face

A BIT TATTERED

I think I have worn a bit thin

sure, still loving God within

yet I can tell I am a bit jaded

no, not overtly frustrated

just a dash a pessimism hanging around

a wearied soul, but still heaven bound

although with wounds healing

but still hurting

salve applied to all the blistering

trials burning me like the sun

but knowing His love cannot be outdone

always unpacking His gift of grace

my ultimate resting place

now, there may be no elegant wrapping

or