Despite all the stories I’ve wrote, I’ve never written about my past experiences with the police. And I’ve had plenty. According to society and my past, race is mentioned repeatedly in this conversation. Ironically, my two worst experiences with law enforcement were with black male officers, partnering with young white male looking cadets. I have nothing against those dudes, and not because I’m the dude they forgot to shoot, because for the many they sent up beyond Dekum’s Blue, maybe I thank them for the symbolic journey beneath a trademarked hue.
(Photo by Richard Lee on Unsplash)

February 14, 2019

..both experiences left me sad and blue.
Both experiences they threatened to shoot.
I promise you, ask Sam, he was there in Vegas for occurrence number two.
But here’s what happens to black men when the police don’t shoot.
The saddened blue becomes an inspiring hue.
This is the story of Dekum’s Blue;
It’s untouchable, yet who knew it’d start from Dekum’s true.
Not to be confused, although Dekum was where I’d first grew—
…up to think blue—next, what’s it to you?
Because stars only shine at night,
Yet they shine just as bright all day.
Could it be the chosen ones seeing the grey?
That’s what it genuinely is—the middle I’ll say.
Most, however, will think, “looking up to the sky, it’s blue not grey,”
Just remember to think blue.
Dekum’s ranch blue? No, the new one with God’s plan.
My new blue to forever inspire his man.
To smile bright, and look up at the stars in demand.
It’s a blue keeping stars’ light from burning our glands.
That’s magical—protecting us from a light that could be so tragical.
But looking up in the day, all you see is blue.
So what’s it to you?
Pick a star and name it.
Everyday millions of stars are born.
Everyday millions of babies are born.
And with death, millions of lives are torn.
Yet only one runs well out of a million.
Fighting for a potential civilian.
The one that penetrated first with electric fire.
To live with desire.
Forever as love’s our lever.
Like a star in the day is clever.
Always showing its true nature.
Disguised in blue.
Dekum’s blue.
We dreamed in Blue.
Like the summers we ignored to inspire a few—
Like those grabbing ahold of the drives given from fruit
And never replicating the driver.
It’s a new type of race.
Looking left and right, assuming their steady pace.
But then who’s the fool?
Who’s the tool?
The words? The swords?
The rule?
Read in-between.
It’s possibly transcending you.
This is wordplay, so relax.
I can go on all day like with my sax.
Like Dekum’s blue where I started playing that jazz.
I just show up and things happen like that.
Like looking up and seeing blue.
Think again, what’s it to you?
Just another day to shine blue…maybe for the boring crew..
Because stars shine just as bright as they do at night.
So, get yo’ ass up and do something fun, alrite?
Because again, this is what it could be for you:
Elated from our mouths off mute.
An abode divined for writing my roots.
If nothing to you, thinking blue is boring to you.
And seeing Dekum’s blue glow right in front of you,
Might be overwhelming in view.
Like the above hue.
Our untouchable blue.
…grey at times, through longer dark skies,
A mode lasting longer than night skies.
Assuming you’re up longer than night times.
But it won’t matter because the stars will shine just as bright.
Like the only blue shining in day light.
The untouchable star we created, yet often disguised in blue elated.
Camouflaged in grey.
When looking up your eyes become inundated.
But you’ll be all-kay…
Sorta’ like dreams, remember Dr. M L Kay’s?
And his partner Mr. Abernathay…?
The generation that said everyday a star is born,
So pick yours and ride it.
Because this star chose you.
That’s why it rhymes with blue.
Don’t believe me?
Just read me.
Am always writing and ready.
Beneath Dekum’s navy blue and ever so steady.
For you dummies, I meant in the dark and I don’t eat spaghetti.
Maybe my words are ignored by people who rock Fendi?
Caring about worlds, wouldn’t you dare me?
I’m a black hole, transcending so pardon me.
Writing the blue that always confused you.
And all the news amusing you.
Driving you back to more likes and views.
Toward the end you’ll get blotchy and rude.
Like dark into light or vice versa.
All this writing you know I’m learnt up.
Just keep going and never let them see you sweat.
Don’t trust me yet?
You’ll find that more of a regret.
You’ll feel it out your sweat.
Gleaming a failure’s debt.
It may define you.
And that’s up to you.
If you let it.
As a gain for social media’s dreaded’…
And the ignorants who fed it.
But I’m good on that news.
I could’ve been that dude.
Every day I could be that dude.
The fallen few to the shooting fool.
Ever so paid under the government’s trade.
Dekum’s blue is what you all made.
From the days of trust—bondage rage.
America’s taking.
Mine’s an ex-slave.
Now—what’s it to you?
Looking up to the brightest hue.
An inspiring blue.
I am Dekum’s dude—watching for those they’ll shoot.
-Budd

Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes because no one can 'read' him. And it's a great way to hide public thoughts...

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