Odd Walking Thoughts

All of the ugliness is why. It’s why we sit in front of reflecting windows, looking, wanting; a push of a something is more than nothing, it’s what we wish to be-
while the word of the ready readies, “I miss you,” normalizing time, crackling, being, and seeing the window watching ourselves turn to stone like the un-shifting; unwillingly we see it so nebulously, we crawl.

Odd Walking Thoughts #poem

I like straight forward curvatures in mud. I’m from mud, I say, when asked indifferently. I’m from mud and cow pastures and tall green ferns growing on the banks of the friendly gurgling brook with the trout hiding in the deepest pools under the roots of a hovering pine; casting a shadow is a harboring act of courage when having wellness in mind. for others. and more others.

-M. Taggart

Odd walking thought

I like to drink beer and cut down trees with a chainsaw. I see them better that way. And when that one falls I find another. A fold of a rock finds us best when judgment seems to be grey, not otherwise; Watch now, at the walk we walk, as we calm our minds and listen to the brave sing.

-M. Taggart

 

 

Odd Walking Thoughts

whispers became screams never said. shower doors, with soap, and windows, watched. the door didn’t shut, and the did, did nothing, while the smiling whores of everything told of how to hush. things were done while walls stood vacant, birds of the morning sang, and heaven hung low.  -M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – The Third Whisper

A smile can float from one to another without permission, as the can kicks the boy’s boot just after she grinned in his direction while the run-on wind carries with it a notice which harbors the reasoning for understanding the whisper of the third in line of the trinity even when there’s no wind at all- don’t you see.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – Transition

“Does a door know the other side of itself if never opened? I’m not sure. What if we are that while viewing a mirror. Who’s who and what’s when?” The man sat upright in his bed. It was late and the room was dark. His thoughts, spinning wildly out of control, pushed for his reality to pause itself with fear of acknowledgment of what’s to come. It was time for transition. Time to leave what was for what now is, and he wasn’t ready.
“Am I a door? And where’s my mirror? I’ll look at it in the dark.”

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

A simple thing happened. So we left the rest to figure it out. A document signed by the wind. Possibly and irresistible sense of fingers on a keyboard begging for one, more, minute, done and gone. A bubble formed in the bath of a child, while mouth held under water, created by Mount Olympus’s keeper, crawled, escaping, toward freedom and fire on Earth. Watch as the mountains shed droplets of bark toward all who see and fetch a pale of water to rinse, it’s about here, and now, and then again, so very simply so.

-M. Taggart