Poem – Fill

I admire words that
infect my mind. I want
them to bend and twist
so I feel them. I’ve torn
pages from favorite stories
and stuffed them into my
mouth. I don’t know why.
Or, I do, and I’m not being
honest. Much like when an
author writes for an audience
rather than the raging
passion wishing to be seen;
truly, and finally freed.

-M. Taggart


Poem – A thing

I’ll sit in this chair and be thankful
for not wanting more. The way the
trees bend in the wind makes me
watch them. If this is fine, I’ll be fine.
And I’m rather sure everything is fine
with the wind, even if we can’t see it.

-M. Taggart


Poem – The Other

It’s gone. The other took it.

I turn the TV off.
Move a few toys

This is the only place I have to be me

Thank you God.

My son wakes up every morning
I get to see him laugh when I enter his room.
I pluck him from his crib. I love this.

I bring him downstairs, step over the playpen wall, put him down.
He runs to the couch and bounces onto it.

In this room, with my son and his toys, I am here. Only here.

My son has a slide in the playpen area. Which, is our living room.
His mother got it for him. And maybe for me too.

Have you ever seen a crying angel in cement?
When the other comes we know we have and we weep.


-M. Taggart


Originally written on 6/5/17. This poem is personal.

Poem – Dripping

I used to think I was meant to write my life’s
story to help humanity push toward a better place.
I did that, I wrote it, and nothing. Then I realized
that I could write about sticks. Or about a frog
that talks to a lonely child. It’s my passion to write,
and to share what I’ve written. When I do this,
I am full and my soul is content. Maybe someday
the other story will be ‘out’ but for now as long as
I’m able to understand that our sky has turned into
a million moons and that they all drip into the same
place, everything is, and will continue to be.

-M. Taggart

ps, I hope this lands well.

poem – half there

This morning there was a deer
bedded down, under a few evergreens,
in our back yard. The deer was alone.
While I was looking out of our sliding glass
door I was surprised to see the little ears
and brown nose of a young deer. It couldn’t
see me, but it was looking directly at me.
I must have made a noise loud enough to
have caught its attention. I wanted to do
nothing but watch this deer. I couldn’t though,
there was too much to do. Later, while brushing
my teeth upstairs, I looked out our bedroom window
and the young deer was now standing in the same spot
that it had bedded down in. Every time it seemed like
the deer might walk, it stopped the movement of walking
and licked its side. This went on for sometime- Me standing
in the upstairs window with toothpaste overflowing in my
mouth, while the deer stood and nearly walked, but didn’t.
I had images of me walking out to the deer to see if it was caught
on something. Should I put pants on? Or just walk out in my PJs?
I’d stuff my feet into boots and just walk out to the deer and then what?
Maybe I should let mother nature take care of the deer. It’s not up to me.
Damn. What if a coyote comes along and rips into the deer. I saw one
just the other day within feet of where the deer was standing. I can’t
just let that happen. Can I? I quickly walked to the bathroom and spit
the toothpaste from my mouth. I returned to the bedroom window and
the young deer had walked a few feet from where it had been. The deer
raised its head to sniff the morning air then lowered its head to the ground
and nibbled on the top of a small growth. I couldn’t tell exactly what the growth
was from the window. Just as I couldn’t tell if the deer was stuck and needed help.
I guess that’s what happens when you’re just far enough away to see only half the story.
I made up the rest without truly knowing it. The deer took its time and walked further away and deeper into the woods.

-M. Taggart

ps, we’re home again.

Published Work:


To the Mountains!

We’re going on an adventure! We’ll be traveling up north and to the coast. We’ll drive into the mountains and spit out near the ocean. It’ll take a number of hours and that’s fine with us! Gavin is a great 3.5 year-old adventurer. He looks for werewolves and dinosaurs in the forest as we drive.

We’ll be arriving and staying at a remote location where there is very little communication. It’s in these settings that sometimes I am lucky enough to nab beautiful photographs. I’m not a photographer by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s hard not to snap something gorgeous when the terrain surrounding you is stunning and without manipulation.

Wish us luck. Megan, Gavin, and I are on the tail end of a stomach virus. It’s been rough lol, so this ride might prove a bit interesting 🙂

Cheers everyone and please try and have a blast today.





I enjoy reading books at pubs.
I enjoy the atmosphere, the noise,
the celebration of life via
conversations over drinks.
I’m comfortable hearing the
constant commotion while filing
through the lines of whatever
book that is in my hand.
I love the smell of the different
foods being prepared in the kitchen,
and the visual of the steam following
the order to the table where it’ll
be enjoyed. I can squint my eyes
and barely see the words I’m reading,
or I can leave them wide open and
take in the moments my peripheral will
provide. Either way is fine with me,
though sometimes it depends on the book.
As though they demand somehow an
existential variation concerning a costume
they wish me to wear, and though I shake it
off, at times it drapes and I do don it for
a small while to satisfy their needs.

-M. Taggart