The other two published poems are crushingly real. This is a warm up. ‘Hidden In Childhood.’ -Published poems.

To see, To listen

My brother and I collected baseball cards.
I didn’t realize their worth, or symbolism.
I was young, maybe seven or eight.
One of my brother’s favorite cards was
a Ricky Henderson Topps Jumbo card.
We had a brother’s argument. I ripped
his Ricky Henderson card in half.
My brother is two and a half years older than I am.
He easily could have pummeled me into pieces.
But I believe he saw that I already was.
I felt anger. Anger that was driven very deeply
inside my being and it wasn’t my brother that
I was angry with. I wasn’t the baseball card.
It was something to do with my baseball glove,
and how I chewed the leather strings and about
how I felt free while playing baseball, especially
when pitching. It was about how the sunlight
couldn’t lie, but somehow adults could.
And they lied the worst.

-M. Taggart

Gabriela is an angel. Please purchase this book to see what she’s created.


“Why can you hit so hard?”

How did so much damage happen-

I could see their weak points

Structure is everything

I grew up boxing

I grew up fighting

My cousin, Adam, homeless for
many years, is no longer homeless

-M. Taggart

I love you, Adam. You won’t see this. But it’s here.

Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women

-I wrote about Megan. Her strength, courage, and love. It was an emotional piece of poetry to write. I felt as though Megan and I were again living the moment of her near-death experience.

Coming soon, in early of June 2022, Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women.

To be included within these pages is absolutely thrilling!

I will be sharing the link to purchase, far and wide.

Thank you, Gabriela, for again giving me an opportunity. This one…this one means the world to me.

I will be pouring over all of the works that have been selected to be published in this anthology.

I hope everyone is doing well!



Two days from now will mark the first anniversary of my father’s death.

He battled cancer. We were told it was treatable. We were told he would live a long life.

It was too late when they discovered that he had a very rare version of this very treatable cancer.

It’s possible I may write and publish a few blog posts, over the next few days, that may be difficult to read for some.

I hope you understand.


My father lost custody and the right to see my brother and I when we were young. Later in life
my father and I became very close.