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 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…

-Budd

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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