Poem – tiny pieces

Nothing is as accessible as our own thoughts.
Yet we twist, pull, harm,
and even hide them on ourselves.
It seems especially so when
pertaining to our mental health.
We know the truth. We know what to do.
But life’s tracks laid in front of us aren’t
always a thing of beauty and taking
the correct action can often mean
destroying lives. Ah, the pull of loyalty
on a child’s heart is to pull them into
tiny pieces- pieces that don’t always
fit back together,.

-M. Taggart


One true line breaks the circling nonsense.
Like now, how I’m watching out the window
at a wretched bird that eats dead things and
about how I want not to call it by name.
When it’s so simple to say what it is,
and yet we’ve gone and filled it up again.
We’ve gone and filled it so very up.
For no reason it still is, circling,
and taking what is ours when we first
think it, as only a Vulture does, after
it assumes we’re gone.

-M. Taggart

Oops :)

Our last thought-
Will continue to haunt until its arrival
and then we are gone


OH Mannn! How did I publish this originally with the first word misspelled? I’ll tell you. I was scrambling to finish work items, while dripping from my shower, while watching my son pop awake via the monitor, and while desperately trying to toss tags into place so I could click publish and move on with my day. lol..then, I see in my email my wonderfully misspelled word. Oh well, shit happens.

Any parent who works, and juggles children knows exactly what I’m talking about.

If you see a horribly misspelled word, you can give me shit. I think it’s funny and I enjoy laughing at myself. I feel for the humans who follow me via email though. They, like me, received an email with the content. lol not pretty.

Anyway, go smash some shit, have fun, drive into mud too deep and spit while doing so. Into your window. Because you forgot to open it.




Odd Walking Thoughts

We took a broken thought and turned it to gold. Why. The boy, with his head held under a towel telling. His head held by another. If one fixes another breaks. We shouldn’t be writing this, we’re looking now. Keep going. No. The towel sickens and breaths. We hold you down. Don’t you see.

-M. Taggart
Copyright 2017