Truth

When I open my front door it’s nice. My back door, nice. When I go into town, nice. Had pizza with Gavin at a pub this afternoon. Nice. Idk what media is doing. I do actually. But they can’t change my front door. My back door. Or my reality.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

On the Sevens I look. Often, they look back. Sometimes when I’m driving I’ll catch a few of them waiting to be seen. And when they are, they are seen forever as a reminder; much like the reminder in the wind. Sometimes silent, the spirit is like that. So we watch the wind and how the movement of leaves push thought into a tangible something. It could even be a footprint. The one closest to the leaf that just landed and the traveling to the leaf brought a self to a new moment; when the clearing of the mind was set free. Pick up the leaf.

-M. Taggart

Poem

I dislike fear mongering
Hate tactics
Manipulation
The cover of the Narcissistic wings spreads far, so far indeed, that the puppets aren’t aware
of their distasteful puppeteering, only that they’ve claimed salvation to the world.

-M. Taggart

Poem

I was meant to write,
I believe;
not to do the other.
I didn’t pick
that path. It’s been
placed in front of
me, an unquestioned
dream-come-true.
So, I’ll walk it
with unmoving faith.
Because that’s me.
That’s always been me.

-M. Taggart