Poem – Will It

A new thought, subcutaneous in nature,
provoked an uncontrollable desolation-
To the North sits newly consecrated ground-
Here though, lay the cracks of today, splintered
with fear as the sun dips while we search for
pocketed isolation to decipher entrance to the light.

-M. Taggart

#-M. Taggart Odd Walking Thoughts

Sometimes I wonder where the line falls. And who’ll jump on which side. Then again, I don’t fucking care. It’ll fall, or not, if I watch, or not, and we’ll all jump into the same space in time where we walk and walk and walk the same routine and hopefully not complain about ourselves and others to the point of evacuation of self..and there we are, waking up in the morning with another sunrise to view and we look at our better halves, and children, and co-workers, and friends; where the line falls really means nothing much. It’s a gift to be here.

-M. Taggart

Share it, but, Don’t steal it. I’ve written 265 of them. I plan on writing a thousand more.


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:



We sat next to ourselves near a pool of water
A few things we Remember
childhood horror
running from walls
from mushroomed
A deep purple came

We shouldn’t have been

The water spun and rippled
found an old friend, though.

-M. Taggart