Poem

Through their blank eyes
they speak their dead words
as if they are them. They
caress their means of existence
as an exhibition of ritualistic rounds,
with their spittle dried around
the edges of their mouths
giving way for the darkness
to feed among each closing
and opening of their haunted
caverns; they truly believe they
are among the structure of it all.
And exactly as they are, we see.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – Un. True.

I saw that before seeing it and now it’s as if I didn’t. The song of the dysfunctional moaning happens. As feet move, over screaming cement. A disdain foams just under thought, asking for more and more; move over and feed this original sin. A seedling isn’t just a thing happened, again, as the fearing behemoths protest- It’s all been done before.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – It’s now. Go

Shaking his face at his door, the boy screamed a terrible scream deep within his heart; with a crushing idiom only memories speak with. Please, no. Footsteps. The door knob turns. It’s nighttime. He opens his window, and lashes the darkness with his legs. They’ll never know me again. I was never home. -A lightning bug flashed. I see you. I’m coming.

-M. Taggart

copyright 2018

Color of a Son

To my unborn son. I have a few things I need to tell you. Soon you’ll be here and then you’ll grow to be a man. You’ll make your own decisions based on your own thoughts. Listen. There are good people and there are bad people. There are even evil people. But know this- The color of the skin does not wear the character within.

Strength of character is a mighty thing. At times you’ll see a child teaching an adult what kindness means. Don’t let this moment elapse without truly seeing. Black, white, red, yellow; this means nothing. Hate, greed, abuse, control for power- all will be forced onto you through out your life. It’ll be up to you to identify and see the true agenda behind each. If we could put a color to these, or place emblems on foreheads, we’d all learn quickly. Color of ones skin does not wear the character within. Love, support, bonding emotions, creating loyalty through kindness and well being. These would be beautiful colors to wear on any skin.

When you lay your head to rest you may replay voices saying otherwise. You’ll remember. -You will witness people harming others for the sake of harming. This is evil. If a white man harms a child; this is evil. If a black man harms a child; this is evil. If you see a black man hugging a child; this is love. If you see a black man hugging his white wife; this is love. If you see a white man hit his wife; this is evil and I ask that you not stand and watch. I ask that you help the wife. Do not turn your back. I say this so simply because we’ve seemingly forgotten how to communicate well in our society. I don’t want to make that mistake with you. It’s too important.

Professionals don’t exist, individuals do. It will be your cross to bear. To truly see.

You may find tears rolling down your cheeks because a mother turned her back on her child. The child wanted to be picked up and raised their arms to their mother. The mother turned her back and you don’t understand why and you cry.  You wiped your tears and you walked to the child and you picked the child up and you hugged the child. -We back up and watch. We the people. Now we crowd around and wonder why you did that, and now we cry. We cry because we’ve seen a stranger cross the boundary we’ve accidentally created in our society. A boundary which hurls us to distancing ourselves from helping to heal our people. We cry because we witness your strength of character and we wished we had it too.

I cry because you will be here soon. I cry because I feel what you mean to me and I fear I’ll fail to explain properly. I can only hope you truly see when you look at me. I’m not perfect. I’m perfectly me. I love you.