Saturday, September 12, 2020

Here I am floating beside Mt. Bliss.

Blowing it a kiss.

Somewhere within lives my father.

Who I dearly miss.

Since his departure I’ve progressed.

Much further in this process.

Failing up a jungle of success.

Learning the trials of life’s stress.

Churning lemons into my pitcher—blessed.

Now experiencing the movie—so I confess.

By example I’ll become.

Beside leaders treating us dumb.

Through fear though we’re here.

Hanging by my negro hair.

Growing it stronger through waters I’m near.

Running harder I was meant to breathe fear.

With politics aside we are one.

Configuring through bliss upon a star we shun.

What more can be done?

Teach the roots of a gone man’s son?

How he stares beside the brightest for fun?

At midnight it creeps.

Creatively writing in peace.

Floating through ages—no time.

Writing many pages—some rhyme.

Colorless creative—sublime.


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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