Photo by Ramon Kagie on Unsplash

Monday, March 30, 2020

Come fly with me.

This flight’s for free.

The jet’s warmed up you see…

No pilot’s license but this eagle breathes.

A vibe so free.

An animal who speaks.

It poetically thinks.

Typing art you’ll read.

Mindfully at ease.

Flying to achieve.

A bird’s eye view so please.

Don’t repeat after me.

These words are blissfully written.

Now at peace.

So kind and playful as kittens.

A pilot so cold—grab mittens.

Fly a free flight I’ve now landed.

To a world I’ve transcended.

I trust you enjoyed this poem I once deleted.

But this version’s a nonstop.

Naw…who am I kiddin’?

#Amwriting and won’t stop.

I go on a writer pretendin’…

Like a pilot and you listened.

Don’t complain for flying Budd.

His airways arrives in love.

The abyss is where he flew us…


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

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: