poem-

It hurt to try and open it.
So, I did what I’ve always done
and went to a pub to read a book.
Only this time, I was in the book.
The bar was full so I stood in the corner
and ordered a dark beer.
The noise from the many conversations
faded, as they always do when I read,
but when I touched the book it felt electric.
“Here I am,” I thought. “About to read my own story.”
But I couldn’t do it. I opened the book to page 62.
Hell, I even took a picture.
But I couldn’t read my short story.
I couldn’t even get beyond the second line.
I’m not sure why. I don’t know what happened.
I’ll most likely read all the others and never read mine.

-M. Taggart

 

book view

Poem

I drive by this cemetery once a week.
For nearly two years I’ve been telling
myself to stop and take a photo.
I found myself pulling over and
getting out of my truck on the anniversary
of my Father’s death.
It was time. The weather was nice.
Leaves were falling and the sun was out.
It was slightly damp and I could smell
the sweetness of the trees readying for
the oncoming winter by shedding their
seeds. Some of these seeds will be eaten.
Some will nestle into the earth and cover
themselves deep enough to live again.
Even though my father was buried a
few hundred miles from where I stood,
I could feel him with me. I believe he
knew what I was doing and why I had
finally stopped to take this photograph.
It’s my belief that to live this life without
fear, you must not be afraid of death.
I believe that the famous line, The Truth
Shall Set You Free, is directly tied to this.
I think it’s no coincidence that I repeatedly
told my father that I will not live in fear,
before having realized exactly what that
meant to me.

No wonder I love leaves.

-M. Taggart

Cheers,

Two days from now will mark the first anniversary of my father’s death.

He battled cancer. We were told it was treatable. We were told he would live a long life.

It was too late when they discovered that he had a very rare version of this very treatable cancer.

It’s possible I may write and publish a few blog posts, over the next few days, that may be difficult to read for some.

I hope you understand.

Matt

My father lost custody and the right to see my brother and I when we were young. Later in life
my father and I became very close.

Poem

Myself asked
what’s so good about a cigar

It calms me down
Unless the smoke rises too fast

and then it’s too late

Myself let the cigar nearly die
and cigar let Myself live

-M. Taggart

Truth

I’m lucky, thankful, and blessed to be his father.

The previous post contained the subject line of, “Anyone?”

The image was of Gavin about to turn a corner on an amusement
‘ride’ for kids. Gavin loved it. In general, it was an obstacle course.

We pulled Gavin from school this week and brought him to our
State’s largest fair. He pet all types of animals, even a MASSIVE horse
that seemed to have taken a liking to Gavin.

I’m rather sure his one day at the fair gave him enough mental stimulation
to overcome the one lost day at school ;).

Cheers everyone!

Matt

ps, thanks for hanging out!