Poem-

Some people Love.
Some hate, choking on vile they created.
A few dance in and out,
looking at things that look back.
I like to think, maybe, about a laugh
I didn’t know, then speak it into being.
For the ones who hate without knowing-
That’ll be for them to solve.
Death is but stitch in the side.
It doesn’t end.
But our memory will be there.

-M. Taggart

Life

If a man tells you there’s no meaning to life, he’s already dead. Tell him. Tell him he’s dead and to crawl back into his crib until night comes without morning.  -M. Taggart

Stay With Us

some things stay crooked in a thought

Right now
I’m hoping someone is still alive

Call has been made
while i listen to my young son sing downstairs
While i have a beer
While i’m just fine

Can you sit with me, thought?

please, stay a minute.

 

-M. Taggart