Indent

And the levity of one example brought on the harm of another while watching stars, listening to ‘mind’, and fingers reading pages and pages and dusty pages turning to new pages smelling of ink while staring at a bar room wall with all sounds bouncing from ear to ear, some listening to this, some not, the bar pushes further, mouths drink and pages turn; lives of another might be yours someday, as she watches from the other side.

-M. Taggart

I Don’t need this secret.

I was sitting at the bar. Directly to my left was a door leading to the
deck. The wind was picking up. John was rambling on with a friend.
I saw the clouds and thought of my father. I walked outside and took
this photo. I liked the wind and the darkening clouds. These clouds
were exactly overhead. I wondered if there was a piece of my father
in them. His celebration of life is this coming Saturday.
I don’t want to go. I will go. But I don’t want to. I’m struggling with
the guilt of not wanting to go. Just like I’m struggling with the guilt
of telling my father he wasn’t there for me when I needed him most.
I guess that’s how it goes. And maybe that’s why I stood outside alone.
I wanted to show someone the photo of the clouds when I walked back in.
What’s the point though. The clouds meant more to me than them.
They always will.

-M. Taggart

photo taken 6/15/21 in Maine.

Factoids from a 5-year-old.

Yesterday I picked Gavin up from school and told him I was going to drive him to a surprise. Gavin loves surprises! I drove him to a toy store and told him I was going to buy him a toy for absolutely no reason other than that I loved him. I gave him a budget and in we went. He picked out Tyro, a blue and stretchy Dino figure.

Just as I was paying for his new toy he decided he had something to say to the friendly cashier.

“Excuse me. Do you see that human right there? That’s my Dad.”

Well, there we have it. My son acknowledged my existence as a human and also as his father. I can rest easy.

-Matt

P.S.,- As some of you know, I’m a very proud father and husband 🙂

Have a great day and buy someone a toy! lol they may just have something to say.

Academy of Trust

I noticed that my toothbrush wasn’t where I had left it.
In fact, for two days in a row, my toothbrush had been moved.
Then I realized that this has been happening for some time now.

I stopped scrubbing my teeth and looked in the mirror to acknowledge
my reality. My five year old son has been using my toothbrush.

Now- I love my son dearly, but I don’t want I to share a toothbrush.

I rinsed my mouth and put my toothbrush where Gavin had left it.
I slowly opened the drawer and spotted a brand new
Captain America toothbrush. Blue. His favorite color.

I’m not going to lecture Gavin. I’m going to roll with this.
Transition and compromise are two skills I’m continually learning.
It’s a little small, but that’s OK, I like Captain America.

-M. Taggart

Dream State

It was dark and raining.
“There’s something outside.”
“Did you see someone?”
“No. It’s not a person.”
I tried peering through the rain soaked window.
“It’s upset with you,
and you’re going to feel it from the inside.”

-M. Taggart

As I turned the corner my body was forced forward.
My mind blurred in a frenzied pace.
I had learned so much.

And the Rain Came

And he had stayed while the rain came down; he had stayed while she sat alone, only a blanket provided comfort, and he looking out the window at the rain thinking about how he might need to leave or to maybe not be in the same place as her, anymore, and the rain came and nothing mattered about any of it other than the thinking of what to do and the thinking of what to do meant something needed to be done.

-M. Taggart

Walk to work #flash fiction

Walk to Work
Written by -M. Taggart

They said it was going to be grey. They said to wear a coat in the morning. I thought of my coat after not wearing it. A bit like I thought about how my feet moved forward on the concrete. Sometimes a foot would move just over an old piece of something, like gum, and then the other foot would fix the system by stepping on the next one. Of course this would be done in reverse to correct it all. A boy on a bike rode passed me. He didn’t look at me. I tried; maybe it was me. I quickened my step and stopped looking at how my feet made progress on cement, instead I found levity in the bridge ahead. Underneath was a smooth rolling river. If I closed my eyes and listened well enough I could hear the smallest of gurgling. It was nice to hear.

-M. Taggart

photo taken 3/3/21

And Said… #Poem

It was a stone
like any other stone
except it had a mouth
and spoke
of pine needles
and quantum therapy
and about how a few
fingers could cross the world
if only for eyes
to see
and a heart
to feel
It told about how the heavens
rained down so hard that the
stone’s eyes were worn away
and while it admitted it never
had fingers, it felt it nearly
could have while sadly
its soul drifted away, quickly even,
then slowly as the rain lessened
Eventually the stone lay still
with a bit of sun and less self
and more thoughts with less sight
until it was found by a frog
hopping around laughter
lit by courage
and carried by a young girl
wearing a yellow hat
She dabbed the stone with
a dry towel and said

-M. Taggart

Cheers #poem

“And no alchohol for twenty four hours before your surgery.”

I’m pretty sure she’s a grandmother

Sounds like a good one

She should know we don’t listen

I wrote with a blue pen
the drop off and pick up
time

Provided I wake up

“Matt! Stop messing with me.
What time is your surgery!”

I walked away
deflated

It was a good story
if she hadn’t rushed it

I’ll be dropped off

They’ll cut into me

And I’ll walk out
into this Covid World

It’s time for another beer
I have surgery tomorrow

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

‘You can force calm in the eyes of hatred, if you’ve been there before.’ He stomped through the mud, listening to the moist sounds, his boots covered in layers of love. “And what’s the about?” asked the tree with the misshaped mouth. ‘Nothing.’ “And why were you there?” ‘I don’t know, but I’m ready for when I am again,’ and the stomping continued and the mud said nothing.

-M. Taggart