poem –

I don’t care about cliques
A few people trying to tell themselves
they will transcend
I’d rather unite
any people
It’s a bit like walking a thought
down a washed out road
The severity of the gone-ness
needs no transcending
The road needs more rocks

-M. Taggart


Not long ago someone recommended I write a particular story
about an idea they had.
It doesn’t work like that for me.
I told them, no thanks.
I write about what sinks into me.
I need to know it. To feel it.
It could be a story about a piece of wood.
Or even about a dog who only ran sideways.
But I’d need to know the wood and the dog.
It’s possible I could write the story for them, but
it’d never be mine and I would feel detached.
Even if it was my own father, and it was.
It just doesn’t work like that for me.

-M. Taggart

Dreams – And The Creative Process

I’ve literally been ‘given’ lines of poetry in my dreams. I wake up, do my job, and write them down.  -M. Taggart

This thought was spurred into being by an intriguing post written by Angel Zuma. It appears that Angel is a relatively new blogger.

Please, let’s flood Angel’s blog with support! Visit Angel’s post here: