No way home – Poem

 

lying face down-
with vomit spilling from his mouth

we let him be

We tried to tell him with words-

Hard top roads
are all the same-
only this one-
is yours

Tomorrow-
after the stench has cleared,
He’ll speak with a clean tongue-
And tell you everything you want to hear

**
copyright 2017

Happy Ending

My cousin has been in my thoughts lately. For things I’m unable to discuss, or write about, for the time being. Twice last week friends from home called me. Twice they pulled over and let my cousin use their phones to call me. They’d found him walking down random roads.

If all anyone hears is the negative said about them, we as humans, often fall into what those negatives are. Rather than focusing on what’s great about them. I prefer to focus on what’s great about someone. In this story I wrote about the good, the bad, the raw. The truth. This story is not PC. I do not write PC.

Grab a whisky, or wine, or a bottle of cold beer. Or room temperature porter, if you so enjoy a room temperature porter. I know I do. Open said drink(s) and take a little read.

Cheers,

I took the picture for this. I stood on the top of Mount Sugarloaf in Sunderkand, MA. Thanks for reading. I’m finally becoming more comfortable with commenting back and forth with a few of you. Thank you for that. It’s certainly not because of me.

Matt

Odd Walking Thoughts

Walk in the woods. Hug an anything. Don’t read the news. Have a beer. Whiskey, fish, work hard, tell someone they look good with their beard, tell another they look good without. Isn’t it easy when we let it be. Sit in your favorite spot and tell your mind no, then yes, because it’s finally time to read. Tell the ones telling, no. You know the no I write of. You created it and it’s waiting to be used. It’s not all metal sheep. It’s only partially all with which we’ve created- a portion of the sheep. But never, listen, to, the, sheep. Tell a thing it isn’t.

**

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

Fill the bags. Fill them all. Tell them not to talk. Take a walk with me. Hold my hand. It is dark. The purple has spoken in our face with breath of beer. Hide our forehead. Hold my hand. Out our bedroom door is the hallway. This hallway is different. It has holes. The bathroom is more different than the hallway. The holes in the bathroom have eyes.

-M. Taggart
Copyright 2017