i SHOUDN’t – A Poem

I change diapers. I clean vomit. I wipe on my knees-
I am a white man who is privileged. I am the devil.

I didn’t get paid in December for my work-
Again in January I wait-
The best I have is nothing

Look as the cat hunches
My eyes drop
My child runs from me

The Ice In My Glass is Full
Has it come to grow?
Again we wait

It’s us who’s created this madness
It’s us they’d like gone

I love my family deeply
I listen, as his pitter patter widens

don’t let us…

-M. Taggart copyright 2017

 

A Poem – Who’s View

How do I know when I’m dreaming of God-
Is it when I see the world from above-
Each country border never showing
Even favorite states are only known by remembered landmarks-
Ocean waves lapping coasts – White clouds covering both land and view

I’m unsure if it’s when I dream of faces I do not know-
They come to me – in a glimpse I see their hurt or happiness-
Crevassed faces – or white polished smiles of beautiful people-
Angry shocking images not belonging to me

Then I dream of a child playing in a field- having found a grasshopper-
The child’s siblings run through the tall grass calling to catch them-
Sunlight bounces from their hair and all the grass and all the everything I can see-

I ask my son to dream of God.
I do this often as I rock him to sleep – telling him God is the best thing to dream of-
That I know some – but not enough-
I ask God to help him sleep well – I ask God to show himself to him-
So he might know him – that even if he asks in a dream that it’s more than I can give-

Though I give my heart – My thoughts – My true self-
If I cannot understand when I dream of God-
I am not so full of me to not realize I’m not enough

copyright 2016- M. Taggart

Ernest Hemingway – A Quote

‘The best people posses a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues makes them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed.’ Ernest Hemingway

 

Don’t let beautiful be destroyed by what was. Christmas is my least favorite holiday. Often bringing my spirits low where I then find myself headed for a silent room. Alone and not wanting company. Now though, much has changed and I look forward to Christmas. I even look forward to Christmas Eve. What makes it beautiful are the people you have directly near you. Not the presents, not the TV commercials with noise asking to purchase, purchase, purchase. Not the ornaments. Not even a decorated tree. What makes it beautiful, to me, is knowing the people with you truly care for you without pause. Without changing of mind. I’ll do my best to not let beauty be destroyed by what was. I hope you’re able to do the same.

Matt

 

East of Eden – Steinbeck

And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. And this I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected. And this I mist fight against: any idea, religion, or government which limits or destroys the individual. This is what I am and what I am about. I can understand why a system built on a pattern must try to destroy the free mind, for that is one thing which can by inspection destroy such a system. Surely I can understand this, and I hate it and I will fight against it to preserve the one thing that separates us from the uncreative beasts. If the glory can be killed, we are lost. – John Steinbeck. East of Eden.

I found this to be the most powerful paragraph in the book. Much later in the book he followed this thought up with-

Can you think that whatever made us –would stop trying?

Some writers write to re-read their own words.  Others write humbly then hope and pray another will find them useful. I find Steinbeck’s words most useful and I wish I could shake his hand.

The Longest Stairway – Odd Walking Thoughts

It was the longest stairway. Its length ran from the sky to lower than the ground. Constructed of granite; its origin is unkown. We descended, lower than the clouds. Here we found the steps now hung ragged; we were alone. We could no longer be lead lower than the ground. We asked the wind, ‘How do we reach our place?’ The wind howled and crumbled more of our footing.