Life

I think everything is connected. And I believe when we die our energy leaves our body and is transferred to the larger connectivity of the entire process of being. In my opinion, we’re never truly gone. However, I’m not arrogant enough to preach this as fact. I only know my experiences and what I’m left with having had them.

Matt

poem-

simmering evening skies
with a slight breeze
awakening our sensations-
the smell of the woods,
moss, ferns, peeling bark,
pine needles, evergreens, birch,
lightning bugs asking to be chased,
the comfortable cloaking darkness
stars stretching our vision
helping to remind us
in time, possibly
we’ll truly know

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts-

People are fucking weak. Yet they love telling anyone who’ll listen how to live.
Ask them what they wore two days ago and they’ll talk about how they
plan on painting their walls, because they know it’s time to paint, but don’t bother
asking why the mold grew without cancellation. Fuck their mold and their societal illness. At morning’s age I knew this wasn’t good, but had no claws. And now that later is, I’ll tell what needs to be told. Even if it takes tears and smashed bowls on walls with hatred in my eyes.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

She trampled and ran along feeling tall ferns; green and narrow at the tops, sending her palms into realization of being. She smiled as she ran. Her mother asked that she not run to the brook, but that’s where she was going and where she was now. “Go on little thought and be what you were before.” She said to the babbling water. A frog hopped near and asked, “What was it, it was not now, before?” She picked a yellow flower, placed it near the frog to enjoy, turned and said her hello while walking away.

-M. Taggart

poem-

the hat
the coin
Headline lead
pants unbuttoned
smiling
It’s all misleading
What creation are you
I is the self that self creates
alone and along with the ride

-M. Taggart