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
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
I breathe in a chamber of self
and spit when done
My selves cannot be me
-M. Taggart
I rip thoughts from pitch black,
place them on white paper
and stare at them until they speak
-M. Taggart
Sometimes the Devil looks at you through the mirror.
-M. Taggart
His soul slept
His heart did not
And we watched
-M. Taggart
Sent from my iPhone
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
Should I switch my fire profile photo for this non-glamorous, unfiltered, photo? I’m sitting on our garage footing with the basement footings below me.
I’d enjoy your input!
Matt
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
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
mtaggartwriter 