Proud.

Yes! Writing with impact via a friend from RI!

jahksofhearts

“Oh, I’ve been proud of you since the day I met you.”

I tried to play it off and gave my therapist, Michele, a high-pitched “that was sweet” but the surge of emotion was too much. I felt hot tears go down my face and all of a sudden the office overlooking the east side of Providence felt too small. I don’t hear that very often, and to hear it from someone who played a part in saving my life was important.

I’ve been seeing Michele since 2013. Therapy is an integral & non-negotiable aspect of my life. I talk about it very casually and I sometimes think it makes people uncomfortable. Speaking anything mental health (trauma, psychotropic medications, self-harm, etc.) can make people uncomfortable. Or they think it’s annoying. “She just loves being emo,” someone might say. But what makes mental health any different from other aspects of our…

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Merry Christmas!

One baby did this

-M. Taggart

You see me

What if you don’t take pills

what does that do

for the economy

For the pharmacy

-M. Taggart

A Poem – Remedios

A few minds, out there in the ether, seem to be interested in this. Enjoy.

mtaggartwriter

Don’t – Let’s be afraid
Exiled from our thoughts-
You can always feed the Moon-

copyright 2016 -M. Taggart

(Thank you P.Poppy.)
If you haven’t already, please meet Kelly.
https://paintingpoppy.com/my-work/

Remedios Varo – Moon

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Poem

He sat outside himself-
looking for the window.
It’s thinking. That’s the minority.

-M. Taggart

Z Self

Sometimes it’s easier when we don’t speak. A, swing-shift on mental aptitude, testing while watching from under, foot. It’s fun here, when we see. She’s so happy, brushing her teeth, yellow on yellow.

-M. Taggart

Poem

Thoughts die
and there are no funerals

-M. Taggart

Why

The entire world knows not to wake an angry America.

-M. Taggart

God Bless You All

The smallest, even.

I like a man
who walks onto the stage

and crosses his heart

-M. Taggart

Poem by M. Taggart

I’m thrilled to share with everyone that a poem of mine has just been published on MasticadoresUSA. Thank you, Gabriela!

MasticadoresUsa // Editor: Barbara Leonhard

Image: Gavin Fishing – the son of the author

Poem
by M. Taggart
[author’s site]

Wrapped around a child’s fishing pole, lives
a vibration of time steadily stamping out
a form of a memory. Time, which floats in
and out of the child’s consciousness while
inhaling the smell of pond water
mixed with the blue sky covering the tops
of the pine trees- he does wonder about time.
When does time stop.
How do we know when it’s time to go and
when does time think about us. How does
time work and why is there time. Why is
there anything. He felt a nibble on the end
of his line. The wind sent small rippling waves
toward the shoreline. He stood, with his boots
submerged only a few inches, and watched as the
wind calmly pushed the murky water passed him.
The nibbling had ceased. He stood…

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