A Poem

It’s time for another-
Not all paths share beginnings-
There’s no One clock-

copyright 2016 -M. Taggart

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A salt water pond found on the southern coast of Rhode Island. Photo taken by myself. 

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Cheers and have a kick ass day.

Matt

A Poem

Shivering our soul-
Our shadow keeps pace-
Again into the dark-

copyright -M. Taggart 2016

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(Photo taken by -M. Taggart. You’re welcome to use this photo as long as you give photo credit to my blog.) Watch Hill, Rhode Island. 2/11/16. -M. Taggart

Fuck Off Professor Brown – Non Fiction

I’ll simply say it as it was. A bitch of a professor at Brown University told me Hemingway wouldn’t be published today because his writing was too simple.

Fuck off.

That was my internal response.

I had been standing at the deli. A middle aged women stood next to me. I asked how her day was. She told me it was rushed. The man behind the counter asked what I wanted and I told him steak. Filet. For two.

I like to chat and talk and meet and know. I asked her who her favorite author was. I quote, ‘Oh, I don’t know. Who’s yours?’

I don’t respect people who can’t answer simple question. I respect them less when it’s about themselves.

‘Hemingway.’

‘Oh. He’s nothing really. He wouldn’t be published today.’

‘No? Why not.’

‘He’s too simple. He never took on anything important.’

‘Tell me how he’s simple. Tell me why.’

‘He never wrote about anything that meant anything.’

‘The Sun Also Rises was simple?’

‘We all stand on his shoulders for what he’s done. But, he’s simple.’

I told her I felt differently. She was alone and it’s easy to frighten off a conversation.  I asked, ‘What do you do?’

‘I’m a retired professor.’

‘Of?’

‘English.’

English. Books upon books and cognitive development involved with a mental sphere of words pushed into physical boundaries and here we are.

‘I enjoy to read. Where were you a professor?’ I asked.

‘Brown.’

A professor was asked a simple question. Who is your favorite author. She couldn’t answer the question. She turned the question into a shaming moment. I wish her students the best of luck. I watched this women try to pay for her purchase. She was unable because she didn’t understand how the card ran through.

 

 

 

Get A Seeing – Eyed Dog. Hemingway

‘He heard the door open and close and her feet on the stairs and he thought, I must get her to go on a trip. I must figure out some way to do it. I have to think up something practical. I’ve got this now for the rest of my life and I must figure out ways not to destroy her life and ruin her with it. She has been so good and she was not built to be good. I mean this sort of good. I mean good every day and dull good.’

**

‘Then why do we have to talk about me going away? I know I’m not good at looking after you but I can do things other people can’t do and we do love each other. You love me and you know it and we know things nobody else knows.’

-Ernest Hemingway. ‘Get A Seeing – Eyed Dog.’

I find these pieces powerful. There’s a third just as nicely done if you’d like to find the story. Hemingway’s writing opens thought patterns for me when I read his work. This happens nearly instantaneously. For me he is the single most influential writer I have ever read.

If you notice, Hemingway has hidden a portion of humanity in a secret for only the two speaking to one another. Of course the secret is also open to the reader. If the reader is reading to comprehend.

 

Lately I haven’t had time to write in depth pieces to share on here. My priorities are family, work and writing for submission. I steal moments here and there to write short poems or Odd Walking Thoughts to publish on WP. I enjoy doing so. Sometimes I’ll sit Gavin on my lap and he’ll try to slam the keyboard with his tiny hands while I write a three line poem. Gavin sees me typing. He wants to type also. Since he’s only five months old his typing is more like smashing. He’s clever at shutting programs down.

I hope you find writing that moves you. Writing that burrows into you and changes you instantly for the rest of your life.

Cheers,

-Matt