Poem Up! #The Confused Parallel

Written by -M. Taggart
Published- MasticadoresUSA

The Confused Parallel

He couldn’t catch his breath. His words
were spinning in his mind with such ferocity
he was unable to calm himself as he began to
shake. He was sure he could see his words
on the ceiling. He pulled his body together,
clamped his knees to his chest, and rocked
while trying to make as little noise as possible.
She was asleep next to him. Her beautiful black
hair lay along the side of her face, nestled softly
onto her pillow, splashing a blackness so peaceful,
just around her head as a halo might linger for
a moment longer when the harboring light is willing
to have it. This light was not for him. 


Please visit the link below to read the full poem. ‘See’ you there!

Thanks everyone, and of course- Thank you, Gabriela!


poem- indoor walk #pros

It became uncomfortable in my head. So I took a walk. Same loop in different ways.
There was a Christmas tree in the corner,
three of them actually- each of them in different rooms.
Only one of them was real. I had cut it down before Christmas
and transplanted it here in the corner. I can still smell it even thought it’s gone.
I took it to the dump and then had a dream about it.
The tree was lit on fire, along with other Christmas trees. But this tree
came bounding down from the pile, toward me.
I guess this is what happens when you indoor walk,
the same loop in different ways.

-M. Taggart

This floor – Odd Walking Thoughts

There’s a place to view. It’s beneath the floor. If you know this, it’s you. If another lays their head on this floor and finds your place, what then? We dove deep and saw much and now we ask the floor, “Why did you betray us?” and the floor replied, “We also were betrayed. Can you help?”  It was early morning and the floor felt cool on the face. The floor shouldn’t be speaking but there wasn’t anyone else to ask.

-M. Taggart

Let’s not play pretend – Odd Walking Thoughts

We’ll go here now. It’ll not matter because the filled glass will be put away. It’s not for them to do this. When they do we leave. It’s not truth and we know this. Because we know we cannot care about them or how they came to think. Their decision is their own and then there’s more.  There’s always more it’s odd that we continue to care.  A cob fell from the stock. A boy picked it from the mud and wondered where it came from. He turned and faced the morning sun. He wanted to ask.

-M. Taggart



Odd Walking Thoughts

Cloudy whispers sank near the window asking for more. We held our mind under steam filled moments screaming. No more doors without locks. No more drawers to be pulled. The brushes and combs were dead while everything else looked on.


-M. Taggart


I haven’t had anxiety lately,
but this little fuck won’t leave today.
pisses me off and makes me more annoyed
that I care, but isn’t that what it’s all about?
Caring too much about what we can’t carve.
This grey area of non-understanding! So it
stands on top of us and clenches our throats
and squeezes our chests; are you OK? I’m fine
walk with me and do you see how the ground moves?

-M. Taggart