Photo by adrian on Unsplash – Portland, Oregon’s Pittock Mansion

Wednesday November 6, 2019

Day 18 of 44 — Here’s why I’m still writing.

These are old poems from a while ago. I was once a sloppy writer, and before the world reads it I’m cleaning up the archives of this site but keeping the good ones. Enjoy!

November 22, 2018

As the light shines on dust particles in sight, fog settled into the city like cotton overnight.

For the sun shining so ever bright, the hilltops of glory stood pretty from above in the people’s sight.

As sight will see for the sun will shine; dust particles continue to rise, so be it the sun is its inspiring joy and pride.

For the dust particles fall, autumn will call. And with gratitude for the sun’s shine, we await the final leaves’ fall.

November 19, 2018

Onward rejoicing I tread life’s way,

But the Hilltop run down the street, easy; dream and run upway.

Higher I’m climbing each passing day,

I once ran 9 miles without a training day.

Hilltops of glory now rise in view,

I run so hard until the top, I forget it was you.

Dates Unknown

As birth gives new life,

Morning gives new day.

Writing be the only way,

I give my life meaningful days.

What you see, untouchable like an Animal who speaks.

What you see, eyes untouchable; it’s the lion in him which speak.

What you see, a voice to keep running to the mountain top’s peak.


Would You Help Fund A Writer?

Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes to encourage readers to explore the depths of their inner ocean, an unexplored self, because it's fun once you get through the emotional part... “The world around us is our vehicle, what you'll read is how I digest it.” -Budd

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